
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/243472.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      OOC, naive!Harry, clueless!Harry, Teacher-Student_Relationship, Slash,
      Pre-Slash
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-22 Words: 7224
****** The Sexual Awakening of Harry Potter ******
by Eriador117
Summary
     Written for the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-
     Fest
     at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm but it got lost :-(
     Challenge: Wve IX: The Coming Out Challenge, fic must deal with
     "coming out" in some fashion (could include a variety of issues
     including sexual orientation, relationships, etc.)
     Brief mention of child abuse.
Notes
     JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, Severus Snape and all other characters
     within that unvierse, I'm just borrowing them for a while. ;-)
The Sexual Awakening of Harry Potter
Part One
At the end of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Lord Voldemort made a fatal mistake. He attacked Harry's family, sending Death
Eaters on a raid to the Burrow, holding Molly, Arthur, Fred and George as
hostages, hoping to flush Harry out.
It worked, but not in the way Voldemort had hoped. Harry had never known such
rage, he was livid at how Voldemort used innocent people as a way to get to
him. Voldemort hadn't stood a chance, neither had the twenty Death Eaters who
were with him.
Raw, elemental power surged through Harry as he cast the Avada Kedavra that
finally succedded in killing the Dark Lord once and for all. The reason Avada
Kedavras hadn't worked on the creature before, were becuase there was so much
hate behind them. That day in the Weasleys' orchard, it was Harry's love for
the Weasley family that had finally defeated the Dark Lord.
But Voldemort's defeat was not without its price. Harry was sure that before
his demise, the Dark Lord had cursed him, for he knew of no other explanation
for what was happening to him.
It would be his last summer at the Dursleys', he still needed his aunt's blood
protection due to the other Death Eaters still at large and for once in his
life Harry was glad that it fell to him to do the laundry at the Dursleys'. It
was a lot easier to hide the evidence when it was up to him to wash the clothes
and sheets. He didn’t want to explain what was happening to Aunt Petunia or
Uncle Vernon, it was bad enough as it was. A few days shy of his seventeenth
birthday and he was back to wetting the bed! It was embarassing, more than
embarrassing and he dreaded it happening at the Weasleys', he'd been invited to
stay for the last two weeks of the holidays.
At least he would be of age then and able to do magic outside of school, a few
scourgifiy spells and hopefully no-one would be any the wiser.
Two weeks after his birthday, Ron arrived to take Harry to the Burrow where he
would stay until school started. Harry was elated to be leaving at last. He
didn’t know how much longer he could take Dudley’s knowing smirks every time
Harry did washing, but at least he hadn't tattled to Petunia and Vernon that
Harry was wetting the bed like a toddler.
Harry was a little worried when they reached the Burrow. He seemed to be
wetting the bed more and more frequently and he did not want that to happen
when he was in Mrs. Weasley’s house. He would be mortified. Harry blushed as he
ate the rest of his dinner. As always on his first night there, dinner was a
veritable feast that could put Hogwarts to shame. He drank very little with his
dinner, hoping that less liquids might help with his problem.
Maybe it had been caused by worry, for in his fortnight at the Weasleys', he
woke up dry every morning and was even smiling as they got their trunks packed
on the final day.
"God, how can you be so chirpy this early?" groaned Ron as he turned over and
clutched his pillow over his eyes to block out the sun streaming through a gap
in the curtains.
"I'm going back to Hogwarts and I won't have to see the Dursleys ever again,"
smiled Harry, tugging Ron's pillow away. And he seemed to have stopped wetting
the bed, something else he was very pleased about, even if he couldn't tell
anyone else the reason why.
"You're pleased to be going back to school?" queried Ron. "Have you forgotten
it's NEWTs this year? We'll have so much work to do."
Harry shrugged. He didn't really mind, now that Voldemort was gone he was going
to try and study more, he wanted to do well in his exams, even though he wasn't
really sure that he wanted to become an Auror anymore. He was fed up with being
in fear for his life all the time and if he was an Auror, he knew he would
still be looking over his shoulder all the time. No, a nice quiet job
somewhere, that's what he wanted. As of yet, he had no idea what that nice,
quiet job might be.
"Breakfast!" Molly Weasley called shrilly from the bottom of the stairs.
Remembering how worried he was at the end of last term, the sound was one of
the most wonderful things Harry had ever heard.
***
Harry's hand shook as he settled his potions ingredients on his table. It was
their first lesson back and Snape had not even bothered to greet the advanced
class, just waved his wand at the blackboard and the list of ingredients and
the instructions for today's potion, Calming Draught, had appeared there.
"You may begin," he'd said and then left them to it. There were only twelve
students in all, three from each house and everyone had to work on their own.
There was no chance of getting any hints from Hermione this year, not that
Harry had expected it. Harry's hand wasn't shaking because of Snape's lack of
greeting, or even concern for the class, he'd never expected concern from the
man before. No, Harry was shaking because it was happening again. His first
night back at Hogwarts he'd woken up to damp sheets again and he was seriously
toying with the idea of going to see Madam Pomfrey.
But what if it was a curse? The nurse might not be able to deal with Dark
Curses. His best bet was probably the new Defence Against the Dark Arts
teacher, Professor Colburn, who'd they'd had since sixth year, but the man
seemed terrified of his own shadow and Harry did not have enough confidence in
him.
There was only one other person he knew who had experience of Voldemort's Dark
Curses and that man was sitting at the front of the classroom, scrawling red
ink across some poor unfortunate's essay, his face set in a grim line. Harry
gulped and turned back to his potion. Just because Voldemort was now gone, that
did not mean that the Potions master was suddenly going to become friendlier to
Harry and he tried his best to forget about it. Maybe it wasn't a curse and
things would get better on their own.
Too late, Harry realised he'd just added chopped centipede instead of millipede
to his potion. As explosions went, it wasn't nearly as spectacular as Neville's
had been, just a small whoosh as his potion evaporated to nothing.
"Potter," Snape sneered as he looked up from his marking. "You will write me a
three foot essay on why you should always read the instructions. To be handed
in first thing on Friday."
"Yes, sir," said Harry miserably. He felt even worse when the class finished
and he was the only one who'd been given any homework. It was quite a feat in
itself for Snape not to give homework.
***
As the weeks passed, Harry got more and more stressed. Their work was piling
up, had he told Ron he was looking forward to this year? Not only that, but his
problem wasn't going away and he was noticing more and more things wrong with
him, he was now almost sure it had to be a curse and he was going to have to
get over his embarrassment and talk to Snape about it. Maybe Snape would know
the counter-curse or a potion to cure it.
He decided to go and talk to him after the Halloween feast, for this could not
go on much longer or Harry was heading for a nervous breakdown.
***
Snape sighed as he settled back into his favourite wing back armchair, a book
in one hand and a glass of firewhiskey on the small table by his elbow. The
fire was roaring in the hearth, the lanterns were lit and he was looking
forward to an evening free of marking (he'd been well caught up) an evening
just for himself. He'd just lifted the glass to his lips when there was a
rapping on his outer office door.
He smacked the glass back down on the table and stormed out to berate whoever
had been so foolish as to incur his wrath this evening. Couldn't he have one
evening of blessed peace? He swung the door open, mouth agape in surprise when
he saw Harry Potter standing there, looking red faced and decidedly nervous.
"Potter? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in your dormitory pigging
out on chocolate frogs or something? It is Halloween, you know."
"Yes, sir. I know. I wondered if I could talk to you about something?" The boy
shifted from foot to foot and wouldn't look him in the eye.
"If you need counselling, Mr. Potter, I suggest you seek out your Head of House
or our dear Headmaster, both I believe are better equipped to deal with teenage
angst than I."
"I think Voldemort cursed me," Potter said quickly before Snape had a chance to
close the door.
Snape arched an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be talking to Professor Colburn, then?"
Potter snorted and it was the boy's obvious feelings on the Defence teacher's
incompetence in the subject, that finally had Snape curious enough to invite
him into his office. The door to his private chambers was ajar but with a quick
flick of his wand, Snape had closed it.
"Sit," he pointed to the chair opposite his desk, the one usually reserved for
miscreant students. The boy sat down, twisting his hands nervously on his lap.
"So, what makes you think you've been cursed, Potter?" For despite himself he
was very curious. Potter had defeated the Dark Lord and twenty Death Eaters on
his own, armed with nothing more than his wand and his righteous indignation.
How had Voldemort managed to curse him?
"It started over the summer," said Harry, his face an alarming shade of red. "I
- I started wetting the bed, I'm too old for that, aren't I?"
"What age are you now? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Seventeen. I shouldn't still be wetting the bed, should I?"
"And have you noticed anything else?" For Snape had a sudden suspicion that
Harry wasn't wetting the bed, at least not in that sense.
The boy nodded and blushed deeper. "I - I - there's hair growing, down there
and it - it gets hard sometimes, it aches and I just want it to stop!" Harry
was almost in tears now and Snape felt all the breath leave him in an instant.
Harry Potter, a seventeen year old, did not know what was happening to his
body? Had no-one told him about this before?
"Potter, you aren't cursed. What is happening to you is perfectly natural, it
just means that you are growing up and becoming sexually aware. Granted it does
seem you are a bit later than most, but it has always affected people
differently. You are having what are called nocturnal emissions or sometimes
wet dreams, all boys have them and men too, to some extent."
"Wet dreams? So I am wetting the bed?"
"No, no. That's just an expression. It's a different fluid that comes out, your
semen, your seed. Surely you've noticed that? You know, when you've
masturbated?"
Harry stared blankly at him and Snape was at a loss. Dear Merlin, did the boy
know nothing? "What's that, sir?"
"You really don't know? Wanking? Jerking off?" Snape detested crudeness, but he
guessed the boy might have heard some of those expressions from his friends at
least.
Harry shook his head, still with that blank gaze.
"Did your relatives never tell you about the facts of life, Harry? Where babies
come from?"
"Oh, that," said Harry smiling. "Yes, my Aunt Petunia told me, you send in an
order to the hospital, telling them whether you want a boy or a girl and then
you go and collect them. The order takes nine months."
Snape had seen many things in his days as a Death Eater, but he had never felt
as shocked as he did then, when confronted with what was obviously a completely
innocent, completely untouched seventeen year old virgin. How had Harry gone
through his life without discovering about sex or the pleasures that his own
body could give him?
"What age were you when you asked about the babies, Harry?"
"Oh, about five or six, I guess."
"And you never asked again?"
"No, why would I? She'd already told me the answer, hadn't she?" Doubt had
crept into Harry's voice now.
"She told you an answer that to her was acceptable for the age you were, but
Harry, she lied to you. It seems that Hogwarts has been remiss in not having a
sexual education class on the curriculum. We had always assumed that parents or
guardians would have let their children know what would happen to them at
puberty and beyond."
"It sounds like I could do with a class like that," said Harry.
"Would you - would you like me to teach you?" Merlin what he was doing? He'd
never taught a sexual education class in his life, but he could not deny that
he wanted to be the one to instruct the boy in this. As an educator, he just
couldn't let Harry's ignorance go on for much longer and he had to admit even
if only to himself, that he too would enjoy the lessons. It was so rare that he
actually taught something they wanted to learn. "Or maybe you could have a word
with Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, I couldn't talk to her, Professor. You would do that for me, sir?" he
asked, wide-eyed, like the innocent he was.
"I would, Harry, but these lessons would have to be private, no-one else must
know about them, not even your friends."
"I could say I'm doing remedial Potions again."
"Very well, Harry. We'll have our first lesson on Monday evening after dinner.
Seven o'clock. Don't be late."
"No, thank you sir, thank you," said the boy almost bouncing from the chair in
his pleasure.
Snape wondered at his enthusiasm in something so mundane as extra lessons, even
if they were of the sexual variety.
***
Harry had barely any appetite for his dinner on Monday evening. His tummy was
fluttering madly, as if somehow a snitch had lodged inside there. Swallowing
anything was difficult, his mouth was so dry. What was Snape going to teach
him? Was Harry finally going to be able to understand those jokes that had the
other boys roaring with laughter, but just left Harry feeling confused and left
out?
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he glanced up, knowing
immediately that Snape was staring at him, his black eyes glittering in the
candlelight. His skin felt weird, almost as if he was itching all over, but it
wasn't quite as defined as that. As he returned Snape's gaze, he felt it again,
that strange, hard throbbing between his legs and he had to stifle a gasp. He
quickly took a gulp of pumpkin juice, but he drank it too fast and ended up
coughing most of it over his hands as he tried his best not to drown the whole
table.
Knowing he wasn't going to be able to eat much more, he excused himself and
headed back to the dorms. He took a shower before going to see Snape. It was
bliss having baths or showers at Hogwarts, there was always enough hot water
and there was no-one pounding on the door, complaining that he was a lazy,
wasteful freak and why was he washing anyway? He would never be clean, he was
just a dirty freak who ruined all their good towels and if he didn't get out
right this minute it was the belt for him again...
Harry shuddered and shut off the water, he could almost hear the swish of the
leather as the belt came down, but it was over now. Those things were no more
than memories, none of them could ever hurt him again. Sometimes he still had
nightmares about what had happened to him in that awful house, but after
Voldemort's visions, they were pretty easy to deal with.
He put away his uniform, instead putting on a pair of jeans and a blue checked
shirt. He'd gone on a shopping spree with the Weasleys once he'd finally left
the Dursleys' for good and now he had a whole new wardrobe. Clothes that were
clean, that fitted him and he was determined to get some use of out of them
before he might grow out of them. Surely he was due a growth spurt soon?
He combed his hair, trying to tame it into submission, but it was a futile
task, it was as wild as ever and he gave up in the end. Harry didn't quite know
why he was wearing his new clothes and trying to look his best for Snape, it
wasn't as if the man didn't know that Harry's hair never lay flat, would the
man even notice his attire? It was a lesson, that was all, but Harry had the
distinct impression that these lessons were ones he didn't think the headmaster
would approve of. Not that he would ever find out, as Harry wasn't going to be
stupid enough to tell anyone. He was bursting with curiosity and he knew that
if he told anyone, then the lessons would cease and Snape would never trust him
again.
Harry's hands were clammy as he made his way down to the dungeons and he wiped
them on the thigh of his jeans before he knocked the door of Snape's office.
"On time, Potter. I like that. Come in," the man swung the door forward so that
Harry could enter the office. Harry headed towards the chair by the man's desk,
but Snape continued walking even further back and stopped, looking back over
his shoulder at Harry. "Since these lessons are not on the curriculum, I
thought it might be better if we continued them in my private chambers. Of
course if that makes you uncomfortable or you would prefer to have these
lessons from someone else..."
God no, it was humilating enough already that Snape knew how clueless Harry was
when it came to sex, he didn't want anyone else knowing.
"No, sir. I'd like you to teach me, I don't mind."
"Very well. Follow me." Snape muttered something and Harry saw the wards around
his door shimmering gold before the door swung open on its own. Harry stared at
the man's back as he followed him in to the man's private domain. He wondered
if any other students had been here before him, if Snape had given these
lessons before. The thought brought a strange ache to his throat. He hoped he'd
been the only one.
The living room was cosier than he expected, dominated by a large red brick
fireplace which seemed to take up most of one wall. The fire crackling in the
grate gave the only illumination in the room, but there were lanterns placed at
various points along the walls. Snape cast a quick spell and the two lanterns
nearest the fireplace flared into life, almost startling Harry out of his skin.
Snape smiled and the action took years off him, Harry had never seen him smile
before. "Don't be frightened, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you. Have a seat,"
Snape pointed to the sofa, Harry sank into gratefully, his knees had suddenly
turned to water and watched as Snape settled himself in an armchair by the
fireplace. "Would you like anything to eat, to drink? I noticed you didn't eat
much at dinner."
"No, thank you, sir. I - I was too nervous to eat at dinner," he admitted. Some
of the nervousness had left him now that he was actually here and Snape hadn't
tried to do - well, anything really, even though Harry wasn't sure what doing
things might involve. His hands were getting clammy again.
"I'm curious, Harry. How have you managed to remain ignorant of sexual matters
until now, brought up as Muggles as you were? I thought it was all pervading in
the Muggle world."
Brought up? Dragged up by the scruff of his neck more like it. "It may be, sir,
but I never saw much of the Muggle world besides Privet Drive and my primary
school. I was not allowed to watch television or read magazines and things.
They only ever gave me the books that they bought for Dudley and there was
nothing about sex in them."
"Did your primary school not have a sexual education class?"
"They did sir, but the Dursleys had sent a note to the headmistress that I was
to be excused from it, they said I was too young to know."
"And your friends never told you what was said in the lecture?"
"No, sir. I - I didn't have any friends." All the other children had been too
scared of Dudley and his gang to make friends with Harry. God, could he sound
any more pathetic? This wasn't how he imagined the evening turning out, he
didn't want the man to feel sorry for him. That ten year old little boy was
long gone, wasn't he? Much to his horror, Harry felt tears prick at the corners
of his eyes and he blinked frantically trying to clear them before his teacher
saw.
"Harry, what is it?" aked Snape, moving from his chair and kneeling in front of
Harry. "Are you frightened of our lessons? Do you think I might hurt you?" He
pulled Harry's hands away from his lap and wrapped them in his, so much larger,
so much broader hands.
"No, sir. It isn't that. I was just remembering some things." Harry tried to
get his crying under control, remembering too the beatings he'd received when
he cried. They'd told him they were trying to toughen him up, when all Harry
had wanted was to be held and comforted, like he'd seen Aunt Petunia do with
Dudley. Dudley was never beaten when he cried, but was rocked and sang to in
Aunt Petunia's arms. Arms that never had a loving touch for him, only anger and
pain.
Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realised Snape had moved to
sit beside him on the sofa, the first he was aware of it was when the man had
wrapped his arms around him. Harry tensed up at first, he'd only ever been
hugged once before that he remembered, by Molly Weasley after the Tri-Wizard
Tournament and it took a while for him to relax his body. Snape rocked him,
whispering to his hair. "Ssh, Harry. It's all right, they can't hurt you now."
Harry turned his face and buried it in the man's robes, unable to stop crying
for such a long time. His tears were soaking the man's robes and that made him
feel even worse. His throat was aching and eventually he just couldn't
physically continue, his tears just dried up and he lay with his head against
Snape's chest, hearing the loud thud of the man's heart beneath his ear. "I'm
sorry," he said, his voice muffled by the man's clothes. They smelled of lemon
and newly mown grass and Harry found it comforting, it was almost as if he was
hiding there.
"What are you sorry for, Harry?" asked Snape gently and Harry had never heard
such a soft tone from the man and certainly not directed at him before.
Harry lifted his head, but he still couldn't look at his professor. "For
crying. For getting your robes dirty."
Snape put a finger underneath Harry's chin and tilted it up to face him.
"Listen to me, Harry. There is nothing wrong with crying, everyone cries
sometimes. It is nothing to be ashamed of, but they made you ashamed, didn't
they? Your family?"
"They're not my family!" Harry said indignantly. "I hate them! I never want to
see them again!"
"You're of age now, you won't have to." Snape wrapped his arms around him again
and Harry felt himself relaxing into the touch much earlier this time. "Has no-
one ever hugged you before, Harry?"
"Mrs. Weasley has, but not until then. If Dudley cried, Aunt Petunia would let
him sit on her lap, I wanted that too, I didn't understand why if I cried they
beat me but would comfort Dudley. It wasn't fair."
"No, Harry, it wasn't. I saw some of what they did to you during our Occlumency
lessons, if you want to talk about it at any time, I'm quite ready to listen."
"Thank you, sir. I - I think I'd like to go back to my dorm now, sir. Can we
have the lessons some other time? I don't feel up to it tonight."
"Of course we can, Harry. We don't just have to talk about sex, we can talk
about whatever you want, but if you're tired, we can arrange another lesson for
later in the week. How about Thursday? Seven o'clock again?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, that would be fine." The man released his hold on Harry
and he stood up, walking Harry to the door and Harry walked back to his dorm.
 
Part Two
Snape could hardly wait for Thursday night and the start to their lessons. He
wondered if Harry had discovered a preference for boys or girls yet, or if he
was unsure of that as he was in everything else. During the rest of the week,
he made sure to stare at Harry every meal time, loving the boy's blush when he
realised he was being stared at. Did it arouse him, this attention? Did he even
know what arousal was? He mentioned he'd been hard, but it sounded like the
young man didn't know why.
Harry arrived on Thursday at five minutes to seven and a few moments later, he
was ensconced on the sofa again. This time, Snape sat down beside him rather
than take the armchair. Harry's breath hitched at once and there it was, that
delightful blush again.
"Have you ever kissed anyone, Harry?" Snape asked without preamble.
"Once. A girl when I was in fifth year. Well, actually, it was her who kissed
me."
"Did you like it?"
He shrugged. "It was okay."
"Did it arouse you?" Snape asked then, his disappointment on hearing that it
was a girl who had kissed him rapidly giving way to hope. An okay kiss didn't
sound like it had rocked his world.
"Arouse me? I'm not sure I understand, Professor."
"Ah, our first lesson, then, Harry. Arousal is when you get excited by thinking
of sexy things or doing them with someone. For men, it means their cocks become
erect." Harry was still giving him that blank, wide eyed look. "Penis? Prick?
What do you call it, then?" he asked exasperated, waving his hand in the
direction of Harry's groin. Harry blushed even harder as realisation dawned.
"Aunt Petunia only ever called it my thing," he admitted. "I never really
called it anything else."
"I see, I must say Harry that I am appalled that a young man such as yourself
was left in ignorance for so long."
"So when - when my prick gets hard, that's an arousal? And how do you stop it
doing that? What if you don't want to get hard?"
"You don't like it when you get aroused, Harry?" asked Snape in a voice
steadier than he would have thought it. Their conversation was having an effect
on his own prick. He quelled his arousal with pure force of will, he intended
these to be lessons, not seductions, no matter how tempting that thought might
be. Snape stood up and moved to the armchair, putting some distance between the
two of them.
"No, it hurts. I don't like it when that happens."
"Sometimes it can hurt, especially if you don't help it along," Snape glanced
at Harry's groin and the tell tale bulge there. "Are you hard now, Harry? Were
you hard when the girl kissed you?"
"N- no, not like this. I don't know why it's happening now."
"Do you know how to take care of it?"
"Take care of it?"
"Masturbation, Harry. What every young man should know. It means to give
pleasure to yourself, to touch yourself," Snape waved his hand at his crotch.
"To touch yourself there."
Harry almost yelped and jumped up from the sofa. "No! That's not allowed!
You're not allowed to touch me there!"
"Harry? I'm sorry, I did not mean to upset you. You don't have to masturbate if
you don't want to."
"It's not allowed," said Harry, almost to himself. "Aunt Petunia said there
were bad men who would want to touch me there and I must never, never let
anyone touch me there. She - she beat me when I scratched myself there, said I
was dirty and that I mustn't ever touch myself there unless it was for washing.
But I was itchy, what was I supposed to do?"
"Harry, you're allowed to touch yourself to feel pleasure, it isn't wrong to
have feelings in your body. Masturbation helps you prepare before you find
someone to fall in love with. You can practice what feels good to you, what
brings you pleasure so that you'll be better able to enjoy things with a
partner. Do you think I'm a bad man, Harry? Like the ones your aunt warned you
about?"
"I don't know, sir. I was a child, I didn't really understand what she was on
about."
Snape didn't quite know how to expalin to Harry about abuse and rape, when the
youth didn't even know what actual loving sex between two people was yet. If
anyone knew about their lessons, then he might very well get fired, but he
could not just let Harry's lack of knowledge about this subject slide. Most of
the wizarding children would have learned all about it in primary school, it
was mandatory education in wizarding primary schools and parents or guardians
could not remove the children like at the Muggle primary school, as it was
considered an integral part of growing up in the magical world. Considering how
many spells and potions required sex magic the subject of sex was considered
just as important as anything else for young witches and wizards. Maybe they
should re-instate classes at Hogwarts, especially if the Muggleborns were as
ignorant as Harry seemed to be.
Snape conjured a few books and pamphlets and handed them to Harry. "I'd like
you to read these, Harry and if you would still like to continue our lessons,
come and see me on Sunday night, all right?"
"I will, thank you sir."
***
Harry started reading the books later that night, once everyone else in the
dorm had gone to sleep, soft snores from four other beds alerting him to that
fact. They seemed geared to younger ages than his, but by the end of So Your
Body is Changing he had some more idea of what was actually happening to him.
Puberty, if a bit later than all of his friends. The wet dreams were explained
as was why he had hair growing in places where it hadn't been before.
Harry felt a bit foolish that no-one had bothered to tell him all these things
before. He started on the next book, You and Your Body: What Young Witches and
Wizards Need To Know. This was one was more detailed, obviously aimed at
teenagers rather than children. There were sections on arousal, hormones, how
babies were conceived. Harry read that chapter again just to make sure, they
were kidding, right? He was supposed to - to stick his prick inside some girl?
And this was meant to be arousing? Nope, no arousal happening with him.
And then his face flushed. Ron and Hermione had been dating for a while now,
did they do that?
The chapter on boy's arousals was much more interesting and Harry settled
himself back on his pillows as he read.
Some of the words seemed to imprint themselves on his brain.
The penis fills with blood.
Erection.
Heartrate increases.
Clear fluid appears on the tip of the penis, this helps as a lubricant to aid
sexual intercourse.
Frequent ejaculation is necessary for healthy sexual function. If a male does
not partciapate in intercourse or masturbation, nature will lend a helping hand
and spontaneous ejaculation will occur during sleep. (See page 47 for more on
nocturnal emissions and masturbation.)
Harry swallowed and turned to page 47. Reading about what happened to boys was
certainly having an effect on his own body and he wished now that maybe he'd
allowed Snape to show him what to do to take care of it, no matter what his
aunt had said. The book didn't seem to think that touching there was wrong, but
Harry was still worried about touching himself there. His aunt's words on that
long ago day were still having an effect on him and even just thinking of it,
had his penis flaccid once more.
He finished the book, trying to absorb all that he had read. His parents did
that? That's how babies were made? But why was reading about girls and their
bodies not affecting him like reading about the boys did? There were a few
tasteful illustrations of both men and women, but Harry found himself drawn to
the pictures of the men again and again. They all looked so big compared to him
and he wondered if he would ever grow at all there, or would that part of his
body remain small like the rest of him?
He sighed and settled down to sleep, promising himself that in their next
lesson he would ask Snape to teach him how to masturbate, Aunt Petunia could
just stick it.
***
Harry shrunk the books and put them in his pocket before heading down to the
dungeons. Ron was off somewhere with Hermione and Harry was deliberately trying
not to think what the two of them might be up to. The castle was quiet for a
Sunday night and he narrowly avoided Filch and Mrs. Norris near the staircases.
Snape's door opened before Harry had even knocked and Snape stood there, waving
him in. "I see the student has returned," said Snape with just the hint of a
smile. Snape sat down in the armchair and Harry sat down on the sofa, what he
was coming to think of as their regular spots.
"So, did the books explain everything you needed to know, Harry?" asked Snape.
"About babies and things, yes," agreed Harry. "And about sex, I can't believe
no-one told me about this, not even Ron."
"Perhaps they assumed you knew?"
"Maybe," agreed Harry. "Sir - I - I was wondering, if there might be something
wrong with me."
"Because you hit puberty late?"
"No, it's not that." Oh, God, how was he going to explain this without
explaining it? "Um, er, in the books it explains about arousals and hormones
and all that and how I'll eventually want to start seeing girls and have
children with them. I - I don't think I'll ever like girls like that."
"You're young, Harry and everything probably seems a bit scary and confusing at
first. You've plenty of time before you need to worry about finding a
girlfriend and everything."
Harry blushed now and looked at the floor. "Um, no, sir. I don't think I'll
like girls ever. When I was reading the books, nothing happened when I was
reading about the girls, but um, when I read about the boys I - I got aroused.
Is it normal? To like other boys the way some people like girls?"
"I suppose it depends on your definition of normal," said Snape. "There are
some who consider it an abnormality. There are so few wizarding folk left that
most of us are expected to marry and have children, but there are some who find
themselves attracted to their own sex and it is tolerated. I say tolerated, but
it isn't something one broadcasts to the whole world as there is still a lot of
prejudice in that area."
"So people would treat me differently if they knew I was attracted to boys and
not girls?"
"I'm afraid so, Harry. This isn't an easy path to travel, having to hide who
you are from your friends. Of course they may accept it, I may be doing them a
disservice by imagining that they wouldn't. I'm probably putting my own
experiences onto you."
"So - so is that why you've never married, sir? You're like me?"
"It is, but I would appreciate it that nothing of this is spoken outside these
chambers. It could quite easily lose me my job."
"They'd fire you because of that?" Harry asked, appalled. "That's terrible!"
"But the truth nonetheless. It probably wouldn't go down to well if our lessons
were discovered either, a student alone with a teacher and if it was discovered
that I was also a homosexual, well you can almost imagine the rest."
"Homosexual?" asked Harry.
"Sorry, that means someone who likes other men. The Muggles also use the term
gay. Heterosexual is someone who is attracted to the opposite sex. Have you any
other questions, Harry?"
"I - I was going to ask you about masturbation, but I don't want to get you
into trouble."
"Ask me about it?"
"I - I wanted you to teach me how to do it."
There was silence for a few moments and then Snape laughed, a full throated
chuckle and Harry was amazed at how much younger he looked when he was happy.
"I'm sorry, Harry. That was funny. Most young men your age would have
discovered and explored their own bodies by now, I keep forgetting that you
haven't. Most people just touch themselves and see what feels good."
"Touch themselves? How?"
"By rubbing or stroking. Wait here a moment." Snape disappeared and returned a
few minutes later armed with a peeled banana. Harry gaped at him and flushed,
he knew what that banana was supposed to represent.
Snape made a fist and gripped the banana, rubbing his fingers up and down on
the pale yellow fruit and Harry was mesmerised, watching those long fingered
hands, imagined what they'd feel like on his own skin. "Now, some people are
very senstitive at the tip and like to caress there," commented Snape, acting
on his words and brushing lightly over the top of the banana.
"Of course, some people might prefer to rub against something, rather than use
their hands." Snape glanced over at him and Harry felt himself flush. "Rubbing
their bodies against a pillow or mattress can also feel good. Everyone's
different."
Harry's prick was hard and aching at both the demonstration and the words,
spoken in such a low voice, one that he rarely heard in class and he had to
stifle a moan as Snape caressed the banana as if it truly was a prick and Harry
wanted desperately to try out some of these techniques, now that he had some
idea of what to do.
"Harry, you may use my bathroom," Snape said out of the blue and Harry glanced
up in alarm. Had he been that obvious? "You don't want to go back to your dorms
in that state, do you?" the man asked gently and Harry realised he must have
noticed his erection. "Second door on the right."
"T-thank you, sir," Harry stammered and hobbled to the bathroom, it was
difficult to walk when he was so hard and he closed the door behind him, stood
leaning against it and panting. He unzipped his trousers and fished himself out
of the slit in his boxers and began to stroke like he'd seen Snape do. His legs
felt like rubber and his cock was throbbing, it was slick, what had the book
called it, precome or something? And Harry swirled it around himself, making it
easier to rub faster and faster on his swollen cock.
He felt light headed, his heart beating a frantic tattoo against his chest and
he felt as if any moment he was going to go headlong over a cliff. Harry was
quiet the whole time, conscious of Snape on the other side of the door, but he
felt like he wanted to scream or yell, something to break this tension he was
feeling in every part of him. Almost without him being aware of it, his strokes
sped up, he closed his eyes, the image of Snape stroking flashed behind his
eyelids, but instead of a banana it was Harry's cock he was stroking. Harry
couldn't help the small groan then as he felt something coil low down in his
belly and then suddenly his hand was wet, he was coming, drops of pearl
spurting over his hand as he shuddered against the door holding him up.
He sank down, his legs no longer able to support him. He was gasping,
struggling for breath, he hadn't realised it would be quite so physical, as if
he'd just run a marathon or something and he stayed there for some time, just
getting himself together.
"Harry? Are you all right?" Snape called through the door and Harry thought
that perhaps it was time to come back out now.
"I'm okay," he said, standing up, washing his hands and pushing the door open.
Well, perhaps not that okay after all. He was still lightheaded, he swayed on
his feet, everything greyed out for a moment or two, but Snape held onto him
and led him back to the sofa before conjuring a glass of iced water for Harry.
Harry took a few sips, feeling better already.
"Thanks." He handed Snape back the glass, their hands just touching for the
barest of moments. It was like an electrical jolt shot up his arm. "Professor -
I - I want it to be you who teaches me everything," said Harry, trying and
failing not to blush. They both knew he wasn't talking about schoolwork.
"Harry, I'm flattered, I am, but you are my student and it would not be
appropriate."
"What if I wasn't your student? After I leave school? Would you teach me then?"
"Harry, a year is a long time. You'll probably meet someone and fall in love
and won't need me to teach you anything, you'll have it all figured out by
then."
"I don't think so," said Harry. "I feel - I feel like there's a connection
between us. There won't be anyone else. I want it to be you."
Snape was quiet then, as if he was trying to figure out the best way to let him
down gently. "Harry, if you haven't met anyone and you would still like to be -
taught, then I would be willing to oblige you after you leave school, but only
then."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry smiling. "It's a date."
The End
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