
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1001724.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Severus_Snape, Ron_Weasley
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Quidditch_Series
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-05-30 Words: 3202
****** Hearts and Bludgers ******
by The_Jester_Erebus10
Summary
     Sequel to Catching the Snitch. Harry still can't keep his mind off of
     Snape. What's a Chosen One to do?
“You alright, mate?”
Harry grunted and popped a piece of chocolate in his mouth while Ron
scrutinized him, his freckled face scrunched up with effort.
“Mmph,” Harry replied, opening his Quidditch book and turning it to a random
page. While the origin of the Golden Snitch was fascinating to a degree, he
still found his mind wandering to other things.
He blinked as he imagined long fingered hands running over his thighs, and soft
lips placing scalding kisses on his neck. Before he could stop himself, Harry
let out a low moan.
Ron’s eyes widened.
“Er…the chocolate’s really that good?”
Harry shrugged. The last thing he wanted was for Ron to find out his feelings
for Snape. Harry cringed. Ever since last week’s events, he found that Snape
was never too far from his thoughts. This didn’t disturb him much, since he
lusted after the man even before their encounter, although he hadn’t wanted to
admit it. But now, every time he so much as glanced at his professor, not only
did he instantly harden, but his heart leapt in his chest and he felt little
butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. It wasn’t just lust anymore, he
realized. He was completely and utterly infatuated. Oh sweet Merlin. He had a
crush on Severus Snape.
………………………………
“Today we will be practicing more defensive spells,” Snape stated, his smooth,
velvet voice burning a path under Harry’s skin. Harry trembled and tried to
concentrate on the text before him as Snape paced back and forth in front of
the class, his robes billowing around him majestically. It was no use. Scenes
flashed through his head, fantasies, of Snape violently claiming him against
the wall, of him passionately kissing Harry as he carried him off into the
sunset. That last one confused Harry. He vaguely understood his attraction to
his teacher, and he secretly harbored fantasies in which Snape chained him to
the dungeon wall and had his way with him…but the tenderness in the way Snape
held him afterward in his dreams, the way he clutched Harry to him
protectively, was enough to make Harry feel uneasy with himself. Snape wasn’t
soft, or tender, or caring. ‘Harry, my boy, you’re setting yourself up for a
fall,’ he thought to himself.
“Mr. Potter!”
Harry started, his knees hitting the inside of the table painfully.
 
“Perhaps you can share with us what is so interesting to you,” Snape sneered.
“Obviously your silly daydreams are more important than your studies. Ten
points from Gryffindor and detention with me tonight.”
Harry felt his face heat up under the intensity of Snape’s glare. So many
different emotions rushed through him at once—nervousness, excitement,
arousal…his entire body was on fire now.
Snape smirked and turned around to sit back behind his desk as Harry flushed.
And to think that this was only the first class of the day.
The rest of the day, Harry went through possible scenarios of what could happen
that night at detention. Would Snape even acknowledge that anything had ever
happened between them? Would he…touch Harry? Kiss him? What if nothing
happened?
The end of the day rendered Harry a sweaty, incoherent mess. He blamed it on
the treacle tart and stress when Hermione and Ron expressed their concerns. Oh
god, oh god. Harry stared at the clock on the wall while trying to swallow the
dry lump that formed in his throat. He looked like he had just ran a marathon,
and felt as if he had been run over by the Hogwart’s Express as he trudged down
to Snape’s office, which was still down in the dungeons. His heart was a
bludger, beating itself out of his chest, there were a hundred snitches trapped
in his stomach, flittering about…
Harry wrung his hands nervously as he stood beside the office door. He could do
this he couldn’t do this he could do this he couldn’t do this he could-
“Potter, stop dawdling and come in.”
Harry gulped noisily.
Snape was on a ladder, inspecting some of his jars full of ingredients.
Glancing at Harry, he set one of the vials of toad’s blood he was holding back
on the shelf and climbed down.
“Well, boy, come in all the way.”
Trembling slightly, Harry moved out of the doorway and closer to Snape himself.
“Ummmm….”
“Mr. Potter.” Snape gestured to the spare chair in front of his desk. “It seems
something has been distracting you from my class. I do not abide students who
do not pay attention, as you well know. Now-”
“But it’s you!” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.
“Pardon me?”
It was worth it, Harry thought, to see the look of shock on Snape’s stoic face.
“I-I can’t-I just can’t,” Harry muttered. Snape’s eyebrows were positioned even
higher on his forehead.
“Please, enlighten me,” Snape mocked as he sat down behind his desk, folding
his hands before him.
“It’s you,” Harry found himself saying, “everything about you, I can’t explain
it…it’s just, there is…so much I want…”
“Tell me what you want,” Snape whispered, his smoky voice husky and setting
electric sparks through Harry’s veins.
“N-no.”
Snape’s onyx eyes penetrated his own, the black orbs like glimmering jewels
hiding a secret treasure locked deep within….oh, Harry wanted it, wanted to
release the passion, wanted to be set free, if only for a few moments.
But Harry shook his head.
Snape frowned.
“Enough of this nonsense, Potter. Get to work scrubbing the floor.” He pointed
to a bucket that was placed by the far wall.
“But sir-”
“You are a foolish boy, Potter,” Snape hissed, “if you think that last week’s
incident has changed anything between us. Do you think of us as lovers, now? We
are nothing of the sort. I want you to get these ridiculous notions out of your
head. You were doing me a service, that is all.”
“I didn’t think anything like that!” Harry retorted, while his heart sank down
to his shoes and shattered. “I just thought I could do something more
productive for you, for detention, that is.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Snape inquired, staring at a certain part
of Harry’s anatomy that was currently straining against his trousers.
“Er…” There was so much he wanted to do; he didn’t know which he wanted the
most.
“Um, eh…take…me?” Harry stuttered, staring at his feet.
Snape smirked, and Harry fumed silently. Clearly the man was enjoying this.
“What was that, Potter?”
“DAMMIT, JUST TAKE ME!” Harry screeched, his eyes bugging out and his unruly
hair standing on end. “Have me on the desk, have me against the wall, have me
on all fours on the floor, I don’t care right now!”
He chanced a glance at his professor, whose mouth was slightly ajar. After a
few seconds, Snape composed himself and arched a single brow. “Is that really
what you want?”
Harry blushed fiercely and nodded, inwardly cursing himself for being so open
with Snape of all people. He closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt something brush
up against him from behind, and he instinctively stiffened.
“Relax,” came the soft, silky murmur, and a pair of hands ran up Harry’s arms,
to his shoulders, and began kneading his muscles and flesh. Harry let out a
sigh and leaned back into Snape’s body. Oh, this felt so good...
“Shall we retire to the bedroom?” Snape whispered, his breath tickling the side
of Harry’s face like a gentle breeze as he nibbled on his ear. “Or would you
like me to take you on all fours on the floor, as you so eloquently phrased
it?”
“I don’t care,” Harry moaned, as those elegant hands slid lower and began
caressing his backside. It felt as if there was lightning dancing underneath
the surface of his skin, setting every nerve aflame with a hot, white fire. He
shivered in ecstasy as his body sang to Snape…Harry twitched and shuddered as
the feelings of bliss cascaded through him, filling him up and overflowing
until he was drowning in the sensations. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted
up, and he realized that Snape was carrying him. The next moment he was placed
gently down on a soft bed. Harry glanced at his surroundings. They were
obviously in Snape’s bedroom, though Harry was unaware how they had gotten
there. Perhaps there was a door that connected the bedroom and Snape’s office,
but it didn’t matter, not when Snape was right there, whispering beautiful
words in Harry’s ear, tweaking Harry’s taut nipples with his expert
fingers...ohhhhhh.
Harry snaked one hand between their bodies and squeezed Snape’s groin,
massaging the huge bulge that tented his pants.
“Ah!”
Snape cried out, arching his back and thrusting his hips forward, and Harry
quickly unzipped the man’s pants, releasing Snape’s cock from the confines his
trousers. Harry delicately ran one finger over the leaking tip of Snape’s
erection, savoring the erotic gasps and purrs Snape uttered, the sounds that
he, Harry, had evoked.
“Enough,” Snape growled as he pressed down on Harry, his body molding with the
contours of Harry’s own body. “You bad, wanton boy.” He nuzzled the side of
Harry’s face affectionately as he slid his hand down Harry’s form, ripping off
Harry’s pants and boxers in one fluid motion. Harry gasped as the cool dungeon
air hit his own burgeoning erection.
Suddenly Snape slithered down his body. Harry let out a squeal and jumped in
the air as something laved his entrance. His professor lifted his head and
stared at him with amusement, gently petting the insides of Harry’s quivering
thighs as he chuckled, the deep, rich sound reverberating through Harry’s body.
Snape’s hands moved up to rub Harry’s belly before he crawled down again, this
time sucking Harry into the damp cavern of his mouth. Harry panted heavily,
clutching the bedcovers as that long tongue caressed his hard flesh.
Then it was over before it had even begun. Harry let out a whimper of
disappointment as the sensations ceased, but Snape lifted his head to swallow
his pleas. They kissed…oh, they kissed, and the fire ignited deep inside Harry,
pulsing and feeding off of every stroke Snape made with his tongue, with every
little groan that emitted from the man’s throat. Harry explored Snape’s mouth
fiercely, passionately, as if this fire controlled him now. The man tasted of
herbs and cinnamon and tea…it was so delicious. Harry wanted more. He wanted it
all.
After an eternity of wet kisses, Snape broke off with a gasp and stared down at
Harry, his black eyes like the midnight sky, shining with the pearly sheen of
some secret moon. Harry reached up to touch Snape’s face, to make sure that he
was real, that this really was happening, and not just another fantasy.
Snape caught his fingers and slowly flicked each one with his velvety tongue.
Harry shivered.
“Harry.”
And that voice broke through Harry’s thoughts, the low, silky rumble that
trickled through Harry like molten lava, burning everything it touched. His
insides were a blazing inferno now, and his heart sped up as Snape bent down to
lave Harry’s throat, sucking and biting marks into his tender flesh as his
fingers inched towards Harry’s entrance again. Out of the corner of his eye
Harry saw Snape grab his wand, and heard that musical voice whisper something.
His entrance was suddenly slick and wet.
“Are you sure that you want this?” Snape murmured while grasping Harry’s hard
flesh in one hand and stroking it.
“Yes,” Harry replied, choking on his words as pure pleasure mounted inside of
him, “God, yes!”
Snape took his other hand and gently ran it through Harry’s unruly hair, while
releasing Harry’s erection. His fingers crept lower, brushing Harry’s perineum.
“Oh, you are such a delicious little treat, Potter,” Snape whispered
appraisingly, staring at Harry with a ravenous hunger burning in his dark eyes.
Suddenly, Harry felt something prod his entrance—fingers. Harry bucked and
mewled as the other man prepared him, his elegant fingers twisting inside him.
Then the fingers disappeared, replaced with something much larger and daunting.
Harry held his breath as Snape paused, then, ever so slowly, pushed in, little
by little.
Oh Merlin, it felt as if he were being torn in half.
Snape was inside him, now. A whimper of pain snuck past Harry’s gritted teeth,
and Snape slid his arms underneath Harry’s body so that he was cradling him.
“Shh.” Snape kissed him again, and for a moment, the pain receded slightly so
it was a buzzing in the back of his mind.
Until, that is, Snape started thrusting into him slowly. Harry clenched his
hands until his knuckles were white. Oh god, it hurt so much…
But the pain diminished slightly as the fire burning inside Harry took over his
senses once more. Snape’s cock then hit something inside of him, something that
caused more flames to erupt and the fire to spread. Harry moaned, and looked up
at his teacher, who was in turn staring down at him. Their eyes met, and Harry
was lost, lost, lost in those obsidian depths…he had forgotten who he was, all
he knew were those glimmering orbs that absorbed him completely…Snape was
devouring him with his hungry gaze. Harry let out a breathy sight, and soon
after that he heard Snape groan as he thrusted into him, harder, faster,
harder, faster—
Then Snape purred, and the erotic sound enveloped Harry and heated his insides
even more.
Faster now…Snape was driving into him like a man possessed, he was some wild
beast, claiming what was rightfully his. Harry’s breath came out in short
spurts, and he could feel everything…he could feel Snape’s breath, hot and damp
against his sweaty skin…it felt like morning fog against his fevered flesh, and
he could hear Snape hiss in pleasure above him. The fire trapped inside of
Harry was blazing out of control now, the flames were spreading, and soon,
every inch of him was burning, begging for sweet release. Then, Snape let out
an animalistic growl and pounded into him harder, snaking his hand down Harry’s
body to grasp his erection again. That one touch was all that it took. Harry
screamed as he came, spurting all over Snape’s hand. It was like an explosion
of fireworks all at once, every inch of him humming in pleasure. It sparkled in
the back of his eyes so that he could still see pinpricks of light dance before
him like fairies. Snape was panting and growling, his movements almost frenzied
as he continued to thrust into Harry’s limp form. He stiffened, and pushed into
Harry one final time before he erupted, spilling his seed deep inside of him.
“Oof!”
Harry wheezed as Snape collapsed on top of him.
“Er…professor? You okay?”
Snape didn’t answer. He was still breathing heavily into Harry’s neck,
remaining completely motionless. After a few moments, he let out a long sigh of
contentment, lifted himself up off of Harry’s body and rested next to him on
the bed. Harry turned his head to look at him. Snape’s face was flushed, and
his eyes were sparkling as they met his own. Snape lifted his hand up to stroke
the side of Harry’s face with the backs of his fingers, and Harry leaned into
his touch, warmth pooling in his veins.
Snape yawned then, and stretched out like a cat taking a sun nap. “I believe
it’s time for you to go, Mr. Potter.”
Harry’s face fell. “But--”
“Yes, Potter?” Snape replied, his voice laden with irony.
“Can’t I stay for just a bit longer, possibly? I mean, if it’s not--”
Harry stopped as he glanced at Snape’s stony expression.
“Alright, sir.” Reluctantly he slid off of the bed, and tugged on his clothes.
Snape propped up on one arm to watch him dress, and then beckoned him forward
with one pale finger.
“Do you wish me to heal you?” Snape inquired as he took Harry’s hand in his and
gently caressed it with his thumb. Harry shook his head.
“I’m fine, sir.” He ripped his hand away and headed towards the door, anger and
disappointment hitting him at once. He glanced back one more time to see Snape
watching him, the man’s harsh façade slipping a little and revealing something
else, something tender, and almost…
Harry felt his heart swell just then. He smiled at Snape before stepping out of
his chambers and into his office. He didn’t know when he would be back again,
if ever. But the memory of soft, warm kisses, and beautiful words whispered to
him in the throes of passion, might be enough to carry with him.
But he would never know what it would really be like, would he? He would never
know what it would be like to be loved by Severus Snape. All he had were these
few memories…
Click click click.
The sound of boots clicking on the dungeon floor snapped him out of his
reverie. He turned to look behind him and saw Snape standing there, his robes
buttoned up to his chin, and a sort of vulnerability about him that Harry had
never sensed before in all his years of knowing the man.
“Potter…Harry.” Snape frowned and shifted slightly, but the softness in his
eyes betrayed him. Harry stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, and
suddenly Snape swooped in to meet him, devouring his open mouth with such
intensity that the flames that was licking low in the pit of Harry’s stomach
flared up again, heating all of his insides. His veins were alive with liquid
fire, and he could sense everything…Snape’s hands caressing his back, his
tongue dancing wickedly against Harry’s own. Harry sighed into Snape’s mouth,
and they broke of gasping, staring into each others eyes.
“Severus.”
The name sounded foreign on Harry’s tongue, yet somehow right. Snape quirked
his lips into a rare half-smile.
“Harry.”
Snape glanced back at the door to his bed chambers. “You don’t have to leave
for your dormitory right now. That is, if you don’t want to. You aren’t
obligated…”
Harry pressed a finger to Snape’s lips. “I’ll stay for as long as you want.”
Snape nipped Harry’s finger, then smirked as Harry jerked his hand away in
surprise.
“Yes, as long as you turn in your essay on the usage of nonverbal spells
tomorrow. This does not excuse you, Mr. Potter. Two rolls of parchment.”
Harry grumbled, but the grin that spread on his face contradicted his
complaints. “I know, I know.”
They walked back together, and Snape lay down on the bed. Hesitantly, Harry lay
next to him, and began to take of his clothes again before Snape stopped him
with his hand.
He spoke no words, yet Harry understood, and he climbed in next to Snape, who
pulled him into his embrace. Harry melted into the other man’s lean body with a
sigh.
Yes. He was most truly, madly, deeply infatuated with Severus Snape.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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