WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

Title: Visiting Hours, or, Severus Snape the Slytherin Sex God's Scintillating Sex Salve
By: Lady of Arundel
Email: ladyofarundel@yahoo.com
Pairing: SS/??, SS/??, SS/??, SS/??. Sev gets a couple of visitors - it'd spoil the story to let you know exactly who in advance.
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Everyone whose names you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. I, ahem, own the alleged "plot". Nurse Martin exhibits a shocking resemblance to one of my old high school English teachers. Don't know how that came about. :-)
Summary: Severus has a little accident while doing research. Craziness ensues.
Notes: Dear God, I know not where this came from. Wait, I do - it's all part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest, a response to scenario 9, "Snape is injured, and spends time in St Mungo's. Someone goes to a lot of trouble to visit him."
AKA four PWPs in poor disguise. Telanu's now famous challenge also makes an extended appearance, as do vague references to at least half a dozen other challenges, not to mention four pairings. It's my first slash, my second Harry Potter fanfic, and probably could count as four separate lemons all rolled into one. It was going to be short and adorable and then my muse appeared out of nowhere and bashed me over the head. Repeatedly. This is the result. Don't forget to check out the additional note or two at the end. No peaking, now!

Potion Making was the ultimate form of magic.

It was every field of the art. It was transfiguration, it was herbology, it was charms; it could destroy, it could heal. A potion could divine the future, at least as well as could any crystal ball or tarot reading. From careful, learned analysis of a potion and its formulation one could learn volumes about the history of magic. Through dedicated examination of the relationships and correlations among potions and ingredients one could unravel the very creation process at the root of all magic.

A potion was magic itself.

Such were the musings of Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as he added a second pinch of shredded boomslang skin to the cauldron of bubbling yellow liquid before stirring the potion with five smart flicks of the wrist.

Another pinch and five flicks later he leaned in close enough to sniff the mist wafting from the cauldron. A pleased smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he set aside the boomslang skin and cautiously reached for the vial of crushed frozen Ashwinder egg.

As it was a Saturday afternoon and all the students would be in Hogsmeade or on the quidditch pitch or decidedly anywhere other than the potions wing of the dungeon, Severus had decided to take advantage of the moment of peace and work on his own research. At the moment he was exploring the interrelation between various potions derived from a base of stewed lacewing flies. Severus steadily held the vial of Ashwinder at an angle, gently tapping the vial with his wand so that tiny, measured amounts of the crushed egg sifted into the cauldron below. The Ashwinder was to be added until the concoction turned a shade of cerulean blue, as a higher concentration would destabilize the potion. Severus leaned closer, tapping in slow measured movements, oblivious to everything beyond the liquid now suggesting a hint of sea-foam green.

Oblivious, for instance, to the owl that suddenly swooped through an open window of the classroom.

Oblivious, that is, until same said owl landed on the Potion Master's shoulder and fondly nipped his ear.

Thinking back, Severus couldn't quite clearly remember the sequence of events which followed. He remembered letting out something of a high-pitched shriek - thank Merlin he was alone or he would never have lived it down - as he was caught completely off-guard by the owl. He remembered the frightened owl quickly taking flight at Severus's first sudden jump, an owl he later registered as the owl belonging to his lover, the scroll tied to its leg no doubt containing the logistical details concerning their rendezvous later that night. At some point, although he still cannot remember precisely when, at some point the vial must have slipped from his surprised hand, the Ashwinder egg tumbling uncontrolled into the frothing substance below.

What he remembered quite vividly was the massive explosion that followed.

Severus must have been unfortunate enough to have had his mouth open at the time of the incident - most likely gaping from the shock of having botched a potion for the first time in decades - and therefore inadvertently swallowed some of the substance. Severus looked down at himself in dismay, his skin and robes absolutely coated with potion.

A decidedly pink potion.

"Oh fuck me!" He managed to spit out before slumping into unconsciousness.

Little did he know.

Something of a contented smile flitted across Severus Snape's countenance as he settled into the new bed. After an agonizing battle with the doctors of St. Mungo's he had finally managed to convince them he was well enough to be downgraded from critical condition and moved out of the critical care ward.

Which meant out of the care of Nurse Martin, a witch in her late 50s who stood at six feet tall and was built like a cross between a giant and the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Nurse Martin, who had the hots for Patient Snape.

Thank Merlin for the magical medical emergency button by the bed.

Severus had come to an hour or so after the explosion. Being a rather private person, and judging that he had remained in relatively one piece, Severus had rapidly dismissed the notion of visiting the hospital wing. Therein lay his first mistake...well, second, if one counted the potion explosion itself. Resolutely ignoring the queasy rolling of his stomach (third mistake) he had cleaned up the thick goop coating himself and the laboratory with a wave of his wand (fourth mistake), read and replied to the scroll offered on a slightly-trembling owl leg, and elected to make the requisite appearance in the Great Hall.

Fifth mistake.

Although dinner had only just begun the Great Hall had been extremely crowded with boisterous students upon his arrival. Severus had swept through the main doors and took his usual place at the high table. He had been lost in his own thoughts - trying to reason out how much Ashwinder egg had gone into the potion to make it hot pink - until he suddenly felt the distinct sensation of being watched. A moment later and he had realized that the hall had fallen completely silent. Severus froze. He had remembered to check his appearance in one of the mirrors outside of the hall and everything had seemed in order. So why did he have the suspicious feeling he was being stared at?

Maintaining his composure, and preparing his best glower, Severus slowly raised his eyes from the table surface.

To find that everyone, everyone was staring at him. The majority of the girls and a good number of the boys sat wide-eyed and blushing with mouths open gawking at the Potions Master. He definitely recalled seeing the shimmer of drool dripping from Draco Malfoy's lips. Heated whispers broke the silence, and Severus could have sworn he heard a few whistles and maybe even a catcall or two.

Slowly he turned his head to regard his fellow professors, all of whom had also fallen silent. The feral feline gleam in Minerva's eyes and Hagrid eagerly licking his lips stood out most prominently in his memory.

In retrospect, he swore he had seen something akin to lust in old Professor Binns's ghostly eyes.

The mental puzzle pieces finally clattered into place...

Frozen Ashwinder Egg!

Which, among its other uses, happened to be a main ingredient in love potions.

With that realization Severus had quickly stumbled to his feet - stomach definitely getting queasier by the minute - and bolted for the side door.

His mind had flown at an even faster pace than his feet as Severus scurried to the Hospital Wing.

Ashwinder egg, Ashwinder egg...commonly used in love potions...combined with a lacewing base and boomslang skin...both components of polyjuice potion... plus a myriad of other ingredients...thick, pink paste...Bloody Hell!

Sweat beading on his forehead - not just from his sudden sprint - Severus had reached the hospital wing just in time to collapse into the shocked, yet pleased, arms of the matron.

As it turned out, Severus's accidental addition had resulted in a topical concoction that should not have been swallowed. As a consequence of having unintentionally choked down several mouthfuls of the stuff Severus had fallen into a feverish state of unconsciousness for a week and a half, during which the decision had been made to move the Potions Master to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Once Severus had been lucid enough to explain what had caused the mystery illness the doctors had been able to work to ease the Potion Master's suffering. However, since Severus had disposed of all remnants of the potion - the Fourth Mistake - it had finally been decided that the safest course of treatment was to let the ingested potion run its course rather than risk dangerous interactions with the unknown substance in his system. The topical effects Severus would have to cure on his own through experimentation once he returned to Hogwarts.

The decision for Severus to remain at St. Mungo's been more out of his own scarlet embarrassment than Poppy's inability to handle his treatment.

For while as a digested substance the potion had markedly adverse consequences common to the consumption of most poisons, as a topical ointment it had decidedly....different effects.

Such as Martin, the Love-Sick Matron.

Severus's physical appearance had not changed much, but somewhere in the mix between the polyjuice and love potion bases - plus wasn't that faerie pheromone he had added before the knotgrass? - Severus had happened upon a rather interesting invention. The ointment had subtly smoothed the unwanted lines of tension from years of spying on the Dark Lord and teaching potions to the likes of Longbottom (the latter being by far more stressful), but that was the potion's tamer side effect.

The more interesting side effect was that Severus's very presence was enough to drive anyone of a willing persuasion mad with desire. For Severus.

Therefore the...incident...in the Great Hall. (Otherwise known as the Fifth Mistake.)

Then there were the potion's effects on his own system, essentially destroying anything remotely resembling physical or mental control over his own actions when it came to sex.

Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. If he could figure out the exact formula he could bottle it and become fabulously wealthy. Well, more fabulously wealthy than he already was, Snape family fortune and all that. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.

Severus Snape the Slytherin Sex God's Scintillating Sex Salve.

Had a nice ring to it, if he did say so himself.

With fame and fortune in his prospects, and now having been moved out of the critical ward and away from the clutches of Nurse Martin (an all-lesbian and solidly-heterosexual male medical team had been specially assembled to care for the Potions Master and a private room assigned), Severus Snape had to admit he was feeling fairly good.

He rearranged his blankets and glanced around his new room, eyes alighting on the small card propped on the bedside table beside a vase of lilies.

Visiting Hours: Daily 12-21.

Severus grinned to himself as he felt a certain side effect of a certain topical potion coming on.

Definitely feeling...content.

He had a letter to write. It had been three weeks, after all.

"Class dismissed. Oh, Mr. Longbottom, may I have a word?"

Sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins gathered their belongings and rushed from the Potions classroom. Since Professor Snape's accident Potions had been taught in the abstract only and the professors covered the class in rotation. The preceding double session had been overseen by the Headmaster himself.

As the classroom cleared Neville approached the front desk. "Y-yes, Headmaster, sir?"

"I have spoken to the professors about your request and believe I have found a suitable solution," Dumbledore smiled as Neville's eyes lit with interest. "It seems Professor Lupin is willing to accompany you to St. Mungo's, as he it seems he has some business to attend to in the area himself." Quite willing, the headmaster mused to himself. "This Saturday, if you are able. Professor Lupin requested that you to go to his office after classes to discuss the details."

A huge smile spread across Neville's face. "Thank you! Thank you, sir!" The boy was nearly bursting with excitement.

"Go thank Professor Lupin. That will be all."

Albus chuckled as Neville gathered his things and nearly bounced out of the Potions classroom with barely-contained glee.

Well, there's a first time for everything.

Indeed.

By the time Neville caught up with his classmates they were back in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione already had her books and scrolls out and was doing work, completely focused on writing her essay for History of Magic. Ron also had his books and scrolls and was pretending to do work, completely focused on Hermione writing her essay for History of Magic. Harry, meanwhile, had just received an owl and was detaching a scroll from the proffered leg when Neville came bounding through the porthole.

Ron had previously made the mistake of asking Hermione what she was writing her essay on, although judging by his dreamy expression he didn't seem to mind all that much.

"...we often fail to realize it but the vast majority of the innovations that wizarding Britain prides itself as its own were once imports of or inspired by the Roman Empire, and back then wizards and Muggles were completely integrated - how else do you think they built things like the coliseums and the aqueducts, magic, Ron! Honestly! Anyway, where was I, oh right, so there's this museum and archeological site called Fishbourne that has tons and tons of artifacts from the Roman days, both wizard and Muggle, and-"

Neville skidded to a halt by his friends. "Professor Lupin said he'd take me!"

Hermione stopped her tirade to flash Neville a supportive grin.

Ron scowled.

Harry looked up from where he sat, sprawled across the overstuffed chair. "Oh, 'lo Neville. That's great! When are you going?" The truth about Neville's parents had become popular knowledge the year before.

"Professor Lupin said he needed to go to Chichester - that's where St. Mungo's is - on Saturday anyway for personal business and said he'd be happy to take me along."

Harry tilted his head, considering for a moment. "Hey 'Mione, isn't that Fishbourne place with all the ancient Roman wizard stuff right outside of Chichester?" Sirius, now free, had moved into the general region. "I could have sworn hearing Sirius mention it over the summer."

Hermione's eyes lit up and cheeks flushed with excitement. "You're right, Harry! Neville, do you think Professor Lupin would let me go with you? I've been absolutely dying to go to Fishbourne! They have this -"

Ron cut in and interrupted he, much to everyone else's relief. "Harry and I could come, too, if you want, so you can split up and not have to all stick together. That way 'Mione can go to Fishbourne and Neville can visit his mum and dad and one of us can go with each of you, that way Professor Lupin wouldn't have to worry about anyone being off on their own while he was off doing whatever it is he needed to do."

Neville turned this over in his mind a moment before grinning a huge smile. "I'll ask Professor Lupin straight away!" With that, Neville dashed back out the portrait hole.

Shrugging, the trio returned to work.

Saturday had dawned bright and sunny, the perfect day for a little excursion.

Lupin, Neville, Ron, Harry, and Hermione arrived in Chichester at noon.

They all agreed to meet back by the Market Cross by five o'clock and soon Professor Lupin, who seemed a little paler and tenser than usual, had left the students to their own devices after a thorough lecture on safety.

As expected, Ron had hastily volunteered to go with Hermione to explore the Roman ruins at Fishbourne, leaving Harry paired with Neville.

While Harry was interested in exploring the High Street Neville insisted that they leave for St. Mungo's immediately, and who was he to argue - it was Neville's outing, after all.

After grumbling his thanks to the delivery wizard and struggling to find a spot for the latest vase of flowers (this time a rather eccentric combination of Yellow Acacia, Syrian Mallow, and Lemon Blossoms), Severus settled in for a good sleep as his visitor wasn't to arrive for another three hours.

Life as a potion-induced Sex Symbol was hard, after all.

"P-professor? Professor Snape, Sir?"

Strike that, make that expected visitor wasn't due to arrive for another three hours.

Severus rolled his eyes behind closed lids and groaned.

Sensing the boy was just standing there - and not trusting the boy unsupervised in a room full of medical equipment - Severus opened his eyes.

Neville Longbottom had inched his way into Severus's private hospital room, hands nervously clenching the cuffs of his robes, tongue nervously running over dry, slightly-parted lips, and eyes opened wide and unblinking.

In all, it was almost as if Severus were back home in his Dungeons.

The only difference was that today the unblinking stare was a little more pronounced and the eyes were a little wider so he could more clearly see the emotions reflected within.

Good gods, not Longbottom as well.

Suddenly the boy's ineptitude in Potions made much more sense.

As did a certain incident involving Longbottom, a bogart, and a dress.

Severus almost blushed.

Almost.

"Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, have you come to disturb me from my convalescence just to gape like a fish out of water or did you have some productive purpose in mind?"

Neville had shuffled his way to the professor's bedside. "I-I w-was here anyway v-visiting m-my parents and...and I-I j-just thought I-I would s-see how you w-were get-getting on."

Just as he was subtly straining to reach the magical medical call button so he could be rescued from this stuttering circle of hell, Severus Snape made quite an interesting discovery.

He discovered incontrovertable evidence of why the Sorting Hat had not been off its rocker when it sorted Neville Longbottom into the House of Gryffindor, home of the brave (and land of the dim-witted).

For, as Severus has been plotting his escape, Neville Longbottom had tried to make a move on Professor Severus Snape.

Without even having Snape dressed in drag as further motivation.

'Tried', since Severus assumed the boy's intention had not been to trip over the dressing gown that had accidentally fallen off the arm of the bedside chair, thus pitching forward, arms flailing, and landing square in the Potion Master's rather sensitized lap.

Then again, maybe that had been the boy's chosen method after all, since he didn't seem in any hurry to remove himself

Severus had to grudgingly admit that least the boy had identified his strengths - blaring incompetence and clumsiness - and had run with it.

Well, he would grudgingly admit that in retrospect as he was currently frozen in shock and horror.

At least that was the only way Severus could later explain why he simply lay there as Neville, no doubt suffering from another bout of Gryffindor courage (read: ill-planned and ill-advised tomfoolery), managed to tug down Severus's blanket and tug up Severus's hospital gown and expose Snape in all his hard, pulsing glory.

That last embarrassing detail Severus would pin completely on the potion.

Severus's tendency to walk on the wild side, a rather Slytherin trait indeed, chose then to rear its ugly head - as it were - when he made no move to prevent what happened next.

Neville took Severus's bobbing erection into his mouth. Completely. And swallowed.

It was a testament to the mind-altering abilities of the potion (that, or the shock) that Severus allowed the boy he considered to be the most inept, bungling, hopeless, and accident-prone student ever to grace the halls of Hogwarts - and he meant ever - to squirm himself into this potentially-perilous arrangement with Severus's most precious parts.

On the other hand, they were already in a hospital with skilled medical attention a mere button-press away.

Long fingers tangled themselves in Neville's hair as Severus let out an approving yowl.

Neville spread Severus's thighs farther apart and began to lick the quivering shaft in long, slow, wet licks from sac to hilt to tip before sucking and nibbling his way down again and repeating the process.

Chubby fingers began to attend to his balls, rolling them and kneading them while periodically putting divine pressure on that aching spot just behind his sac.

Severus tightened his grip on Neville's hair, writhing and whimpering like a puppy.

Neville's astoundingly-skilled mouth finally took Severus's cock back within its hot confines, just the swollen head, and sucked as if he were devouring a Sugar Quill. Whimpers turned into howls and pleading cries as Severus tried to thrust himself into Neville's mouth. Neville, however, refused to be rushed and only took more and more and more of Severus's pulsing, jumping, straining erection an aching inch at a time, sucking hard enough that, when his vision was not blocked by too many stars, Severus could see the outline of his cock clear against the hollow of the boy's cheek.

If that wasn't enough to make the older wizard come, the plump, slick finger that suddenly slid into his arse was.

Slamming his cock down Neville's eagerly-awaiting velvet throat Severus came so hard that he nearly lost consciousness. When he recovered and had managed to sit up partway, and once Neville had detached himself from the deflating prick he had still been contentedly nursing, Severus and Neville simply stared at each other.

Severus Snape had discovered Neville's true talent.

And a good educator should reward such talent.

"T-ten..." he stammered, gulping for air, "Ten p-p-points to Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom."

"We need to have sex right now."

Severus continued to read the Daily Prophet, not sparing the speaker a glance until he had finished the article, folded the paper, and neatly set it and his reading glasses between two newly-delivered vases of Quince and Queen's Rocket. After a rather awkward silence Neville had taken his leave about a half hour ago to visit his parents, leaving Severus behind in his hospital room working to block all memory of the previous hour.

"You were saying, Lupin?"

"We need to have sex right now."

"Why don't you come in and take a seat."

By the time the door had a chance to swing closed the usually calm, relaxed, and irritatingly-serene Remus Lupin had launched himself across the room and into the bedside chair. The chair in which he now sat, gripping the armrest so that his knuckles were ivory white.

"We need to have sex right now."

Having long been on the receiving end of that particular phrase, increasingly so after his little accident, it's shock value had long ago worn off.

Severus's eyes rolled heavenward and he sighed, mind beginning to wander away from the present conversation.

Remus began to fidget in the chair, left leg tensely bouncing. Severus finally bit. So to speak.

"Why?"

"Because I have a date with Sirius in a half hour."

"Why can't you have sex with Black?"

"Because it's your fault."

"It's my fault you have a date with Black or that you can't have sex with him?"

Apparently Severus should have been playing closer attention after all since he was now thoroughly confused.

"NO! It's your fault I need to have sex, so we need to have sex right now."

"You can't wait thirty minutes? I knew werewolf hormones were something but Merlin, Remus, there has to be something you can take for that. I know there's-"

Severus was interrupted as Remus pounced, pinning him to the bed at the shoulders and thighs.

"Will you shut up and listen to me for a minute you cold-hearted, bloody bastard!"

Now that was a little uncalled for.

"I'll have you know that I am the sole and legal heir of the Snape family fortune, born five years and four months after my parents wed, thank you very much."

"ARRRGGGG!!!" The hands of superior strength previously gripping his shoulders seemed to be edging towards his throat.

"Lupin, you seem a little on edge."

Not to mention a tad out of character.

"Listen up," Remus hissed through clenched teeth, "I'm only going to explain this once. Something you added to that little experimental potion of yours or something that combined once in the potion or whatever seems to have invoked an amplified reaction due to my lycanthropy. Poppy thinks it's the combination of the Ashwinder and whatever pheromone you added in combination with the werewolf pheromones. And since I have an incredibly-sensitized sense of smell, I can still smell the potion throughout the castle, even though you're bloody half-way across the bloody country." By this point Remus was frantically shaking the dark-haired wizard. By the shoulders, thankfully, and not the neck. "It's been like this since I saw you in the Great Hall and the full moon is in four days so it's only been getting worse. It's been three weeks, Severus, I've been uncontrollably aroused for three weeks! Of course I'm 'a little on edge!'"

Oh.

Well, that made sense.

He suffered from a similar reaction himself, although he had been mercifully unconscious for half of the time.

"So we need to have sex right now. Got it. What's the problem with Fido?" Severus licked his lips and sneered. "Or, perhaps more appropriately, Lassie."

An unsteady hand ran through gray-flecked sandy hair. "Sirius and I are at a difficult place right now in our relationship - we're just beginning to put the pieces back together."

Remus threw himself off Severus and started pacing erratically. Severus remained reclined on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. He watched the werewolf in silence, lips pursed and eyebrows slightly arched as Remus began to gush.

"I mean, we were separated those twelve years he was in Azkaban and before that we weren't exactly on the best of terms, I mean we each thought the other was the spy and secretly serving Voldemort for which we were about ready to curse the other to hell on sight, no offense intended, Severus, and then Sirius got free but then he was on the run and then there was the war and then the trial and now," Remus momentarily came up for air, "Now we finally have the chance to just spend time together and get to know each other again and I can't bloody well meet him for tea and start madly humping his leg before we've even gotten beyond the basic pleasantries."

Severus secretly suspected the mangy animagus would probably be the one doing the mad humping on the first date but wisely kept that observation to himself.

All the same, the werewolf did have a valid point.

Plus, to some degree, it was his fault.

Which could be turned into delightful profit by marketing the salve.

"So you just want to use me for sex."

An frenzied nod to the affirmative.

Eh, why the hell not.

Sometime later, after resolving Remus's little 'medical emergency', Severus awoke to the sensation of someone slipping under his bed covers, spooning him from behind.

Someone who was gloriously naked, slightly out of breath, and whose form was heart-flutteringly familiar.

Severus turned his head and black eyes met smiling green ones.

Harry nestled closer, tightening his arms around Severus. "I missed you."

Severus smiled and turned over to face his lover, lips meeting in a chaste kiss. He absently brushed aside unruly strands of ebony, nuzzling the boy's nose with his own. "Missed you, too."

Green eyes lit up as Harry rested his head on his lover's pillow, allowing a leg tangling with Severus's. "Sorry I'm late," he whispered, fingers tracing the line of the other's jaw. "I nearly was caught on the way here. I told you I found an excuse to tag along ..." eyes sought visual confirmation, "We decided to split up...Ron followed Hermione to Fishbourne, of course - hoping for a quick snog between mosaics no doubt - so naturally I volunteered to tag along with Neville, graciously leaving him some time alone with his parents of course," Harry grinned mischievously, Severus's ears beginning to redden, "and I would have gotten here sooner but I had trouble finding out your new room number and then I had to hide because I almost ran into Professor Lupin, funny he was here at the hospital, and..." Harry trailed off, noting the blush burning Expected visitor, his lover's cheeks and the guilty aversion of his eyes.

Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry ...what was I thinking...

Somehow 'I couldn't help it' sounded shallow, even when it was somewhat the truth.

Harry's eyes widened with realization. "No, you didn't! With Professor Lupin!?"

Severus froze and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing the potion and preparing for the inevitable as his heart began to shatter.

Gentle lips suddenly pressed against his own, a tender tongue running along his lips before slipping inside his mouth. Severus instinctively relaxed into the kiss, shakily caressing the gently-probing tongue with his own, wanting to memorize each detail should this be last kiss they ever shared...

Harry broke the kiss and Severus, ashamed, looked away. Fingers caressed his jawbone and tilted his chin, forcing him to meet his young lover's gaze.

"What's wrong? You don't think I'm angry, do you? How could I be upset over what you can't control? It's the effects of the potion, it's effects on both of you. Silly git." Harry smiled as he saw profuse relief wash over Severus's features. He wrapped his arms tighter around the older wizard. Then, with an impish glint in his eyes, he rolled them together so that he had Severus pinned beneath him. Harry pressed himself against his lover, separated only by the flimsy material of the hospital gown.

Severus blinked away the tears that threatened, the potion apparently making him even more maudlin than he usually was when it came to his young lover. Oh, sweet, sweet Harry, what did I do to deserve you...He brushed his lips to Harry's ear, "Thank you...for understanding..."

"You're welcome. It's sort of my fault anyway as Hedwig was the one who landed you in a coma for over a week and all...Besides," Harry confided, nose-to-nose and grinning widely, "the idea of you and Professor Lupin is kind of hot. Very hot." To prove his point he thrust his hips, his arousal unmistakable.

Severus had definitely not seen THAT coming.

"Hot, hmm...?" He slid his arms around the boy above him, one hand caressing the smooth bare back and the other gently stroking the nape of his neck, one of the boy's weaknesses.

"But you better not let Sirius find out about Remus - he'd strangle you. And then where would I be?" Harry teased as he began to steal quick, heated kisses. A moment later he paused and pulled back to look at Severus.

"You blushed when I mentioned I was supposed to be with Neville." Green eyes widened yet again, accompanied by another thrust of slim hips. The hospital gown had by then bunched around Severus's waist so that this time Harry's erection met with Severus's own. Both moaned.

"Him, too! I...I didn't know the ol' boy had it in him," Harry giggled, now grinding himself regularly against the older wizard, hands clinging to Severus's shoulders from beneath and urged silently onward by strong hands gripping his buttocks. "What...what did you do to him?"

"My, aren't you the little voyeur...for your information, I did nothing to Mr. Longbottom." He twisted his hips upwards and elicited a gasp from Harry - who had been suckling the older wizard's throat, enjoying the rumble of the words under his lips and tongue.

Harry skeptically regarded Severus a moment. "Okay, what did 'Mr. Longbottom' do to you?"

Severus grinned. "It seems Longbottom has been hiding his secret talent. Would you like a demonstration?"

A nod and Harry found himself flipped onto his back, knees bent and thighs parted. Long jet-black hair tickled his thighs as Severus attended his straining erection, mimicking Neville's earlier ministrations. Except with even more skill, of course.

He didn't hold the title of Master for nothing.

And except instead of one pair of hands tangling in hair and the other resting on hot thighs here one hand from each set held the other, fingers entwined.

Harry came quickly and overwhelmingly, howling Severus's name.

It had been three weeks, after all.

Harry collapsed against the pillows, gasping. Severus slid up his lover's length, tenderly engaging him in a kiss while trailing his fingers in the seed coating the heaving chest and stomach. Breaking the kiss he softly rolled the boneless boy onto his stomach, parting his thighs with the well-slicked hand. Mouth gaped open Harry cried out and arched against the elegant finger slipping inside his heat.

So, so tight...

A second finger, a third, and then the bunched hospital gown was shed and Harry, still post orgasmic and pliable, lay sated on his side. Now it was Severus's turn to spoon his lover and, one hand flat on Harry's stomach and a knee nudging legs apart into proper position, he slid deep inside the boy. "Oh Harry..." he breathed into the wizard's hair.

Heaven.

He made slow, sweet love to Harry, his Harry, rocking him and cradling him, their fingers entwined and pressed against Harry's stomach, Harry exhausted and lost in the surreal moment, Severus feathering kisses along the smooth line of shoulder and neck, whispering soothing nonsense in his lover's ear. Thrusts and caresses grew more insistent, as did the sweet whisperings.

When it was over they lightly dozed in the same position.

Finally, Harry shifted awake causing Severus tightening his embrace. "I missed you," he spoke into cooling, wild hair. "I love you."

Harry sighed happily, reaching behind him to rest his hand on the older man's hip. "Missed you and love you, too."

A while later Severus brushed sweet kisses behind his lover's ear. "You better go if you don't want your godfather's murder count increased to fifteen," he whispered apologetically. He shifted slightly, the memory of a lupine tongue trailing along his spine as he was taken from behind still fresh. "Make that sixteen."

Harry grinned.

A few hours later a now rather sore Severus Snape hazily woke. To the distinct impression of being watched - a sensation which was quickly becoming, gratingly, all too familiar.

Furthermore, the watcher was sitting on the corner of his bed. On his bed! Severus immediately dismissed the thought - hope - that Harry had somehow managed to return so quickly. Lady Fortune just didn't seem to be in that kind of mood today.

Okay, this was fun for a while, but now it's getting old. Screw the fabulous riches, it's not worth hassle.

Although the whole situation had revealed a brand new side of Harry...

Mentally bracing himself, the wizard cracked open a wary eye, preparing himself for the worst...and immediately sighed in relief.

"Headmaster? What are you doing here?"

Indeed, his mentor, the venerable Albus Dumbledore, dressed regally in dark crimson robes, sat perched on the corner of Severus's hospital bed. Well, that's alright then, Severus mused as he relaxed into the pillow. Back in his days as a spy he would often have to debrief the older wizard from the confines of a bed in the hospital wing, Albus resting against the bed's edge and leaning close in order to hear Severus's strained whispers. The habit from darker days gone by was oddly comforting.

Blue eyes danced behind the half-moon glasses. "To see how you were making out, of course. I was delighted," Albus's eyes twinkled warmly, "to receive an owl this morning from your doctors saying the ingested potion had worked itself out of your system and that you were downgraded from critical condition. Honestly Severus, you didn't believe I would forget about you?" Albus reached out and fondly patted Severus's knee.

Severus, having now managed to pry open his other eye, made an attempt at arching his eyebrow. Merlin, even that hurts...too much sex in one day a sore Severus makes.

"Of course not, Albus. I was merely not expecting anyone." Else, he mentally added. "Isn't it rather late?"

"Trying to rid yourself of me already, Severus?"

"Of course not," came the quick reply. "I was merely...curious. Not that I am ungrateful, but aren't you probably needed back at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, I've only been here for an hour or so, and visiting hours last for another forty-five minutes. Certainly nothing too dire could happened that Minerva can't handle. Mr. Potter's impressive aptitude for mischief withstanding." Attempting not to blush, Severus turned that over in his potion-and-not-to-mention-other-things-addled mind for a few moments.

Eyes abruptly narrowed in suspicion.

"You've been watching me sleep? For over an hour?"

"Naturally!" came the cheerful reply. No further explanation seemed to be forthcoming.

Nevertheless, Severus shrugged of his suspicion - he was just being overly paranoid and rather silly. This was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Venerable Wizard, and Champion of the Light, after all.

"I see you received the flowers. I was quite worried they would spoil."

Eyes popped open and jaw dropped.

The flowers, bouquets and bouquets of every variety that appeared nearly by the hour...Roses, Lilies, Tulips, Lemon Blossoms, all accompanied by the most...intimate...of greeting cards. Harry had denied sending the bouquets, but Severus had just thought the boy was being coy.

"Y-y-you!?! You sent them?!?"

Albus smiled slyly, eyes twinkling as he slid closer to Severus on the bed and slid the hand that had been resting on the younger wizard's knee higher to rest on his upper thigh. Severus could feel the heat and raw power radiating from that hand and gulped. Hard.

Severus was chagrined to note that the strength of his swallow wasn't the only thing. Hard, that is.

Well, Harry understands...that's all that matters.

With an absent wave of his free hand the older wizard closed and locked the door. He leaned forward, close enough that Severus could feel hot breath whisper across his cheek. Albus's glasses slid slightly lower down his nose. "You always knew you were one of my favorites, didn't you Severus? Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Of course, Severus had never been able to deny Albus Dumbledore anything.

If Severus didn't say no when asked to endanger life and limb by betraying the most powerful dark wizard in history on a daily basis for over a decade, why start now?

Not that, could he manage to remember the words he wanted, he would have been able to answer as he suddenly found his mouth previously engaged. By Albus Dumbledore's lips and surprisingly-limber tongue. The same tongue currently licking at Severus's swollen lips, the one now pressing insistently for entrance into his speechless mouth.

Well, since he wasn't apparently planning on using it anytime soon anyway...

Albus shifted both the position of his body and wandering hand and squeezed Severus's slowly-waking cock through the bedclothes. Taking advantage of the wizard's gasp of surprise Albus triumphantly gained full access to Severus's mouth.

Albus tasted of lemon drops.

Severus decided this would be the perfect time to try one of his young lover's suggestions - although maybe not originally intended in this context - to stop acting like a Slytherin (read: normal, rational being) and try thinking more like a Gryffindor.

In other words: Act first, think later. If ever.

Thus resolved Severus relaxed into the hungry kiss, evidently pleasing Albus as he felt the flash of a smile against his lips before that omnipresent tongue resumed its thorough conquest of Severus's mouth. Between sucking and small gasps for air he fought back with his own tongue, encouraging Albus to shift his body weight fully onto the younger wizard, arching his arousal against Severus's own bulge. Jolts of lightening streaked up Severus's spine.

Brings a whole new meaning to 'wizard's duel', he mused, groaning into Albus's lemony mouth and thrusting his hips upwards and onwards.

Apparently having remastered the art of thought, the rational section of Severus's mind launched one last brave rally.

Albus is like a father figure, he's your mentor, he was once your professor! The section scolded.

Another mental voice - one that suspiciously sounded an awful lot like Lucius Malfoy - whispered, And you're Harry's professor...I don't recall you filing any complaints a few hours ago.

Unbidden an image of Albus and Harry together - as in the of-Albus's-hands-caressing-Harry's-dripping-cock-as-Harry-mewed-and-oh-so-willingly-spread-himself-to-better-serve-the-cause-of-the-Light kind of together - came to mind. A downright incestuous Hogwarts love triangle, it would be. Severus groaned, although his traitorous hard prick, which one would think had gotten itself in enough trouble already, twitched.

The groan quickly dissolved into a lustful moan as a sinfully-talented tongue slid along his raw bone and licked at his earlobe, momentarily satisfied that it had thoroughly ravaged every inch of Severus's mouth.

Well, the man certainly seemed to have years of experience under his belt.

So to speak.

Or not, as Severus once again fell blitheringly incoherent as nimble fingers found his left nipple and rolled, the wet tongue now lapping at exposed neck. Neck and hips arched in unison as a doubled number of fingers sought both nipples and pinched, crushing Severus's aching erection against crushed velvet.

Severus blinked, mentally wondering when the tangled sheets and his hospital gown had been removed.

The tongue paused and blue eyes lifted. "The wonders of wandless magic, Severus." A thrust trapped Severus's cock between his stomach and velvet-wrapped arousal. "Of course, I still find having a wand to be useful, don't you agree?"

"Oh gods, more! Merlin!" was perhaps not the answer Albus had in mind but it was what he would have to settle for as teeth and lips joined tongue to nip and suck and lick and nip at neck and collarbone before honing in on Severus's hard right nipple. And bit.

As Albus alternated between nipples with his mouth and hands Severus finally put his own agile fingers to use fumbling with the fastenings to the elder wizard's robes.

Severus finally managed to draw it open, pushing the yards of velvet off the wizard's shoulders. Albus paused in his ministrations - having continued his journey southward down Severus's taut stomach - to shrug out of the robe, allowing it to pool to the floor and toss his flowing beard over his shoulder before resuming his expedition somewhere around Severus's navel.

Severus paid this little heed, however, too busy drinking in the sight before him.

As it turned out, Albus Dumbledore was indeed great in all things.

The sinful mouth had continued their travels during Severus's little reverie and all thoughts yet again dissolved as a hand positively emanating power and magic squeezed his aching balls and that wicked tongue flicked across the weeping head of Severus's prick. A nose nuzzled black curls and that mouth licked and sucked thighs and sac and everywhere but where Severus needed it the most.

It was then that Albus nearly had a coronary.

Sex he could handle - Albus wasn't one of history's greatest wizards for nothing and was still in his sexual prime - but what nearly offed him was hearing the one word he swore he would never, ever hear tumble from Severus Snape's lips. Never mind hear it screamed.

"PLEASE!!!"

Excellent educator that he was, Albus knew behavioral breakthroughs ought to be rewarded as a means of reinforcement.

"Please Albus, oh please oh pleasealbuspleaseplease...."

Severus had always been one of his most talented protégés.

Severus screamed as his cock went from completely ignored to totally engulfed within a split moment. If Severus had thought that tongue talented before, it worked absolute magic now. His hands clenched silver as he fought the urge to thrust himself deeper down the older wizard's throat, whimpering and still begging as Albus sucked and swirled his tongue along the pulsing length.

So they continued - Albus deep throating Severus's swollen prick, pausing only from time to time to take the dark-haired wizard's balls into his mouth while his hand would continue pumping the leaping cock - until Albus sensed Severus was about to come.

With an agility that by this point should no longer have surprised Severus, that hot devious mouth was suddenly once again upon his, tongue demanding yet tender in sharing the taste of his precome. Severus gave in to the amorous kiss, disrupted only by his own cry as their erections brushed skin-on-skin for the first time. Rocking his pelvis gently, Albus pulled back from the kiss, sliding his lips to Severus's ear, sticky hands stroking wild black hair.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Severus."

Startling even himself Severus launched himself at his mentor, pushing Albus back so he was kneeling on the bed and descended upon the thick, straining cock with his own eager mouth. As Severus prepared the elder's cock Albus groaned, fucking the sweet mouth with short, barely-contained thrusts.

Severus had always demonstrated great initiative.

"Now, Severus," he breathed, pushing the younger man again onto his back and kissing him deeply, hands sliding downwards and downwards, reaching beyond the begging cock.

With a knowing twinkle in his eye, Albus slid three long fingers into Severus.

"Mmmm...already prepared, I see...ten points to Gryffindor. Apiece."

For the...heck, Severus had lost count...some-teenth time that day, his jaw dropped.

Weathered hands slid back up and fondly but firmly pressed at the backs of his thighs until Sev's knees nearly met his ears. That voice whispered again, "Really, Severus, you should have known by now that very little gets by me."

Severus squirmed, whimpers turning into pleading, open-mouthed gasps as a wet hardness finally nudged his entrance.

A hot tongue caressed his ear. "So beautiful, Severus. I've always wanted you, always. Potion or not. But when I saw you in the Great hall I knew I had to have you." The words barely off his lips Albus thrust powerfully into the younger wizard, easily sliding fully into Severus's tight heat.

Severus screamed.

...And immediately began to thrust his hips to get Albus deeper, harder, deeper, deeper... his own angry prick pinned between heaving stomachs and...oh, was that beard?

Arms and legs reached blindly, frantic to get Albus to screw him harder, faster, deeper, more, deeper, harder, more-more-more-deeper-deeper-OH-MERLIN-that-was-his-prostate-GODS!

That was enough to send him - shove him, shoot him, catapult him - over the edge, spilling hot seed across both their stomachs.

Not for the first time that day Severus was profoundly thankful for the privacy wards placed on all St. Mungo's hospital rooms.

Albus chuckled and purred in Severus's ear, thrusting and sharply twisting his hips as he repeatedly impaled himself to the hilt. Upon returning from his black-edged orgasmic otherworld, Severus's awareness was heightened of the raw magical power that accompanied each powerful plunge threatening to split him in two.

If this is what it felt like to be reamed by the great Dumbledore, perhaps it was indeed time to let The Boy Who Lived have a go on top.

Maybe Albus would sign on as an academic advisor.

Knew you'd come around, piped up the Lucius voice.

As the powerful thrusts into his arse continued, the scientific recess of Severus's mind - back from a long leave of absence - idly wondered whether Albus's impressive stamina was part of the pheromonal effect of the potion or just another manifestation of the magnitude of the great wizard's power.

Then again, it had been a rather long and tiring day for Severus, so maybe he wasn't in the proper mindset to judge.

Proper position? Perhaps.

His cock decided to lodge a protest at the thought of being outdone, quickly hardening yet again (damned potion), now teasingly encouraged by Albus's skilled hand.

The great wizard had shifted slightly so that now his throbbing cock could drive even farther into Severus. A few more thrusts and Albus finally came, hard, flooding and filling Severus past the brim and in turn sending Severus yet again to the stars. Albus collapsed onto Severus and took him into his arms, still buried deep in the other wizard.

Severus lay panting and blathering, a mental and physical puddle.

Albus had barely broken a sweat.

By the time Severus regained a vague awareness of his surroundings he was alone in the bed, dressed, tucked in, and clean. Albus sat, fully robed, in the chair by the bed flipping through the newest edition of Transfiguration Today. Severus tried to speak, mind still spinning, but all he managed was a vague grunt.

As Severus struggled to sit up Albus rose to his feet and gently pressed him back into the pillows. "I want you to lay back and rest, Severus. That's a good boy." He spared a glance in the direction of the enchanted timepiece.

"Well, it's nine o'clock - visiting hours are over and I must go. Get well soon, Severus. Everyone at Hogwarts is eager for your return. Especially a certain Seeker." Albus placed a quick kiss on the tip of Severus's nose, straightened Severus's hospital gown, and was gone.

The End.

A/N1: I'm a SS/HP devotee at heart, so don't ask me WHERE the rest of that came from. Especially since the Albus section was by far the easiest to write (and the one clamoring the loudest to be written). I must be suffering from pent-up-slash-muse-aggression or something. So yeah, Severus kind of experiences a variety of mood swings. I blame that on the potion. I also blame my muse's increasing demands for SS/HP/AD on the potion as well.

A/N2: According to cannon, boomslang and stewed lacewing are important components to polyjuice potion; Ashwinder egg, frozen, is key to love potions and (conveniently for my muse) highly explosive if mishandled.

To the Victorians Acacia (yellow) symbolized "secret love", Mallow (syrian) symbolized "consumed by love", lemon flowers symbolized "zest" (although I chose the later really just as a more blatant hint of foreshadowing), Quince symbolized "temptation", and Queen's Rocket meant "You are the queen of coquettes". Ahem, indeed. (Collier's Cyclopedia, c. 1882) Between that and various HP-world related details (like the potion's ingredients) I think I did more research for this PWP than for my junior honors paper.

A/N3: I decided to lock my muse (a rather persistent and somewhat twisted one that I didn't even know I had until I took this challenge) away for a while before Voldemort or someone else dropped by...oh good gods, my muse heard that and is now trying to break free...anyway, if you're interested in a sequel (since I have NO idea how, or if, this is going to be received) let me know. :-)