Title: In Memory's Wake
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Disclaimer: No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Through trial and hardship, Snape and Harry have finally found each other. But as Snape's demons reemerge, can their tenuous relationship survive? And when the unthinkable happens, Harry begins to wonder whether Snape wants to forget or needs to.

This story is the sequel to and opens four weeks after 'Light on the Dark Side of Me.' Not HBP/DH-compliant.




Story Warnings: Slash (m/m), angst, non-con/rape, explicit sex, language, violence

Chapter Warnings: non-con/rape, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation



In Memory's Wake

It was not something he would soon forget. Flying off the handle and snapping at Snape. Now Harry had a detention.

And not just any detention. A Friday evening detention held during the first Quidditch match of the new term. Ravenclaw was a tough team to beat, but Hufflepuff had promised victory with the reassignment of its Seeker. As the Gryffindor Seeker and Captain, Harry Potter had been especially anxious to evaluate the competition.

He knew Snape's choice of holding his detention during this pivotal game was no coincidence. When it came to Harry, the man was practically an artist at deducing and delivering the most painful punishment. And over the years, Snape had succeeded in making too many moments of Harry's tour at Hogwarts miserable. Now, in the second term of his seventh year, Harry cursed the Auror requirements once more, which mandated he take a N.E.W.T. in Potions.

Realizing he was already two minutes late, Harry quickened his pace, taking the steps leading down to the dungeon corridor two at a time. He winced as he caught sight of who was heading toward him, Draco Malfoy, the very cause of his detention in the first place. Malfoy had hexed his cauldron, causing it to explode and coat half the classroom with whatever putrid potion they had been brewing. Of course his explanations to Professor Snape of that fact had fallen on deaf ears.

Malfoy, surrounded by his usual cronies, was heavily bundled in a coat and clearly on his way to the game. He did not miss the chance to further provoke his nemesis.

"Not going to the game then, Potter?"

Harry didn't bother with a reply.

"It must really suck, Potter. I hex your cauldron and you end up with the detention."

A couple of years ago, a couple of months ago even, Harry would have been incensed by Malfoy's attitude. But now, Malfoy was nothing more than a nuisance to him. He stepped past the trio of Slytherins and made to continue down the hall without a word.

But Malfoy was not to be deterred from his goal of starting a fight with him. The blonde-haired boy stepped in front of Harry and goaded "You just can't stand it that I always get my way."

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug.

Apparently his indifference only fueled Malfoy's anger. "Admit it, Potter, you hate it that no one gives a damn anymore about that Boy-Who-Lived tripe." Malfoy leaned in and continued smugly, "Now I'm the one getting all the attention. I don't know if you've heard, but my father is planning a gala for my eighteenth birthday. Everyone's going to be there, the Minister, the Board of Governors, half of the Quidditch All Star team. In fact, Professor Snape just owled to tell me he wouldn't dream of missing it. You can't tell me that doesn't drive you crazy!"

This Harry could not let alone. "That's rich! Like I'd ever want to be that greasy bastard's favorite."

"You watch your mouth," Malfoy spat, clearly angered by the insult against his Head of House.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that," Harry muttered cynicallyand turned to walk away. Now he was at least five minutes late.

Almost instinctively, Harry felt the hex leave Malfoy's wand. He hadn't even turned around, or heard the curse Malfoy had fired in his direction. But that didn't matter. Concentrating on his magic, and with just the slightest touch to the wand in his pocket, Harry managed to conjure a shield reflection charm, a complex piece of defensive magic that the other boy was clearly not expecting. The curse rebounded off of Harry and hit Malfoy squarely in the chest, throwing him violently against the wall.

When Harry turned around, Malfoy was lying in a heap on the floor, trying to collect himself. Crabbe was staring at Harry incredulously and Goyle had a look of absolute terror in his eyes at the thought that Harry might do the same to him. Harry couldn't help but smirking at them, but the smirk was instantly wiped off his face at the next voice he heard.


Oh crap.

A dark figure in billowing robes had emerged from the end of the hall as Crabbe and Goyle were pulling a stunned looking Malfoy to his feet.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," the unmistakable voice drawled.

"What?" Harry protested. "But sir, he—"

"I don't care to hear your excuses, Potter."

"Thanks, Professor," Malfoy responded, as he dusted off his robes. "Potter just attacked—"

"I don't much care to hear yours either, Mr. Malfoy."

"But sir," Crabbe accused, "he just did some sort of Dark magic."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Snape scoffed. "Potter wouldn't know Dark magic if it bit him in the arse."

Harry frowned at that proclamation, but said nothing.

"Now, the three of you, straight off to the game," Snape said, gesturing at the three Slytherins. "And you Mister Potter," Snape added in a low menacing voice, "You're with me."

Malfoy threw him a victorious smirk, but Harry didn't care. He knew very well that Malfoy was still wondering how he'd been the one to end up lying helplessly on the floor.

As they made their way into the classroom, Harry seethed at the unfair loss of House points. "Sir, Malfoy tried to hex me; I just blocked it. He's the one who should lose points!"

"This is the second time in as many days that you have spoken out of turn, Potter. Who precisely do you think you are?"

Snape did not let Harry answer, however, but continued mockingly, "Oh yes, I remember…the star of the Wizarding World. The Boy-Who-Always-Gets-His-Way."

"I do not always get my way!" Harry replied furiously.

"And yet, you continue to interrupt me, you insolent boy. Your arrogance never ceases to astonish. You think you know better than everyone else; you always have."

The words seemed to spark an idea in Snape's mind, as a smile suddenly touched the corners of his mouth. It was not at all a reassuring sight.

"If you feel so confident to repeatedly question my judgment, perhaps we should see if you can do better." Snape pointed to his desk and said, "Go and sit up there then."

Harry glanced over at the Professor's desk. "I'm fine here, sir," he declined.

"Go and sit," Snape ordered in a low voice that convinced Harry it was best not to argue.

However reluctantly, Harry obeyed, taking the three steps up onto the dais on which the desk sat. He stood there uncertainly.

"Does this satisfy your megalomania, Potter?"

Snape appeared to have calmed down, but this abrupt change in attitude only further alarmed Harry. "Professor, I don't think I should be—"

"SIT down!"

Harry pulled the chair away from the desk and sat. He had to admit, everything looked different from here. He was looking down on the classroom, and for probably the first time in his life, on Snape. A new experience to say the least.

"Now," Snape continued softly, "do enlighten me, Potter. What punishment would you give yourself if you were in my place?"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Of course it wasn't. It never is," Snape mocked. "And to what of your other infractions over the years? Surely you can't deny your culpability there? Go on and amuse me, Potter. What would you do in my place with your disobedient attitude?"

Harry gulped. He supposed he had to say something. "A detention maybe?" he suggested weakly.

"Ah, but you've had your fair share of those, haven't you? And yet you continue to misbehave and be an insufferable little brat. So tell me, Potter, what would you do now?" Snape asked in a calm tone.

Harry had to admit, this whole situation, Snape's demeanor especially, was really beginning to freak him out. He had no idea what to say.

"No brilliant suggestions, I see. Now you're beginning to appreciate my dilemma, Potter. But I'm still waiting for a satisfactory answer, or I assure you, I will supply my own," Snape threatened.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" Harry said irritably.

"Another detention for your cheek."

Harry sighed angrily.

"Next Saturday," Snape added with a triumphant smirk.

"But sir," Harry protested, "that's a Hogsmeade weekend."


"You're being completely unfair!" Harry snapped.

"No more Hogsmeade for the rest of the year."

Outraged, Harry shot up from the chair. "What?! But this is my last term!" Realizing his error, he reluctantly finished with, "…sir."

"And I fully intend to make it as unbearable as possible for you, Potter."

Harry couldn't believe this! Suddenly he wondered, could Snape even do that? Take away Hogsmeade weekends for an entire term?

"I can do anything I want, Potter."

Harry's mouth fell open. "I…" He hadn't said anything aloud. Was Snape reading his mind?

Snape stared smugly at him in reply.

How dare he?! 'The malicious bastard!'

"For that, Potter, no more Quidditch!"

"What? I didn't say anything!"

Snape sneered, "But you fully expected me to hear it, you arrogant arse."

"You can't take away Quidditch!" Harry exploded.

"Can't I?" Snape said with a vindictive smile. "It's going to be a miserable year for you, Potter. No Quidditch, no Hogsmeade, and detention every Saturday…with me."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh. Did I forget to mention that?" Snape taunted vindictively.

"You sadistic arsehole!…" Bloody hell! He had said that aloud.

Snape was up the stairs so fast, Harry had barely seen him move. The next thing Harry knew, Snape had grabbed and shoved him down against the desk, slamming his chest hard against the wood.

"I'm going to make you regret ever opening that foul little mouth of yours, Potter," Snape spat menacingly.

Harry was still trying to catch his breath from the force of the impact. He struggled to get up but Snape was holding him down with a firm grip on the hair on the base of his neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape pulling a large paddle out of his desk drawer.

"Pull down your trousers," Snape ordered.

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "What??"

"You heard me, Potter."

Harry did not move. There was no way in hell he was going to let Snape spank him!

And then, "Ow!" Snape had hit him! And very hard at that.

"Your trousers, right now!"

"But, sir…" Harry pleaded. Harry turned his head and caught sight of Snape, who looked positively murderous.

"Don't make me ask you again."

Harry complied, his throat suddenly tight. This was absolutely mortifying. But he knew better than to defy the man. He pulled down his trousers carefully, adjusting his boxers to make sure they didn't slip down. He couldn't believe Snape was actually going to spank him. And judging by the cruel smirk on his face, he was going to enjoy it as well. This was bad. It was made worse still when Harry heard Snape lock and ward the classroom door.

"I should have done this ages ago," Snape hissed, before delivering the first blow.

The strike was so forceful it shoved Harry into the desk.

"You deserve a caning for the trouble you've given me," Snape growled.

Another blow. Oh god it hurt!

"I'm so sick and tired of your disrespectful attitude… you arrogant little whelp!"

Another blow – this one even harder.

"Bloody hell," Harry spat out under his breath in lieu of a scream, determined not to let Snape know how much this hurt.

"Language, Potter," Snape admonished with an air of amusement. "Should I add that to your list of infractions as well?"

Harry would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain. What the hell else could Snape possibly do to him? The blows rained down along with Snape's insults with stunning intensity. Harry's eyes prickled with tears as he tried to stifle his gasps at the ache in his reddened backside.

After what felt like hours, but must have been a few minutes at most, Harry was beginning to wonder if Snape had let up. Either that or he was just becoming used to it, the pain now transforming into a dull ache as his body flooded with endorphins. The motion of his body against the sloped desk now familiar, almost comforting.

In one insane moment, Harry thought that this wasn't actually that bad and hoped the spanking would be enough to satisfy Snape. Hoping that after this, Snape would forget or forgive the rest of the punishments – loss of Quidditch and Hogsmeade, and detentions every Saturday. But Harry knew better. This was Snape, after all. And given what he had said to the man, he realized he would be lucky to get out of the dungeons in one piece.

Another few blows with the paddle, these against the back of his thighs, sent a whirling heat up into him. Realization caused his face to burn bright red. He was becoming hard. It couldn't be! In a panic, he squirmed to get away, but Snape held him steady. Each stroke that hit him now forced his body to slide against the smooth wooden surface of the desk, only serving to expand his problem. His face was on fire now. He tried desperately to rationalize what was happening. He was a hormonal teenager after all, and this sort of thing was prone to happen. But how humiliating!

Harry quickly recognized, however, that the understanding of the why could wait for another time. Right now he had a major problem, and he had to focus on figuring out a way to hide it when Snape finished spanking him.

Another minute later Snape stopped, and Harry heard him throw the paddle aside.

"Have you had enough?"

"Yes sir," Harry managed to reply after clearing his throat. Thank god this was over. Thank Merlin Snape hadn't noticed! To think he'd originally planned on petitioning Snape to lighten his sentence. Now he just wanted to get out of here as fast as humanly possible.

In a choked voice, Harry asked, "Can I go now, sir?" And then added hastily, "I'm sorry for what I said before…it won't happen again."

"I'm quite sure it won't, Potter."

Harry waited, but Snape still had not dismissed him, or given him permission to pull up his trousers. "So can I go then?"

"It seems that we now have a new problem, Potter."


"That rod between your legs."

Harry winced in shame and instinctively reached to pull up his trousers, but Snape stilled him.

Merlin this was too embarrassing!

"How interesting," Snape began with an almost pensive air, "the Golden Boy enjoys spankings."

Please let this be the worst nightmare ever, Harry thought.

"This is quite the surprise. To think, I thought I was punishing you, and here you have you been enjoying your detention all along."

"No," Harry managed through what sounded very much like a sob.

"No? You haven't been enjoying it?" Snape asked sarcastically. "I think this," Snape continued, as he reached across and grabbed Harry's erection through his boxers, "…says otherwise, don't you?"

Harry gasped and managed an affronted, "What are you doing?" but his body betrayed him.

"My my…we are a twisted young man, aren't we?" Snape taunted.

"Please, sir," Harry managed through his shock, "I'm sorry."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were being deliberately disobedient."

"I swear I'm not…" Harry made another effort to pull up his trousers, but was once again stopped by Snape's hand on his back.

"What is it that's got you so…bothered?" Snape asked, his tone almost analytical in nature, as though he were not in the least surprised that Harry had had this reaction. "Is it the…stimulation, or perhaps it is the humiliation of it."

Harry swallowed roughly.

He felt Snape take a step closer behind him and lean forward, his breath tickling the shell of his ear as he spoke, "Do you like this, Mister Potter? Being spanked in the middle of my classroom? Being humiliated? Is that what has you suddenly so…attentive?"

Harry throat tightened at Snape's words. The truth was, he had no idea…but he didn't care. He just needed to get out of here.

"If you want to leave," Snape said harshly, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "you'll have to answer my question." A pause, and then Snape added in a somewhat different voice, tinged with more curiosity than malice, "I'd like to know."

Harry didn't know, and even if he did, he certainly couldn't think straight enough to formulate an answer.

"Well, which one is it?"

When Harry did not answer, Snape prodded, "Surely it can't be your greasy, ah…what is it you said, sadistic arsehole of a Potions professor?"

Harry took a slow breath and then shook his head.

"No, I didn't think so."

"Can I go now, sir?" Harry asked, raising himself up.

"You are not yet dismissed, Potter," Snape snapped, and pushed Harry back down against the desk. The pressure crushed his arousal against it, and despite himself, Harry let out a moan. He was so hard.

Snape leaned forward, and his voice sounded almost sympathetic, but Harry knew better. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Hell yes, it hurt.

"I can take care of it for you…"

What? Harry started at that. Snape couldn't have just said what he thought he said. With growing anxiety, Harry pleaded, "Please, sir, I think I just need to go to bed."

"That wasn't intended as a question, you insolent boy."

And not a moment later, Snape's hand snaked its way into his boxers.

Harry reeled. Part of him wanted to run, get his wand and hex Snape. The other part, however, was responding with groans and heated gasps as Snape worked him like a master, rubbing his length with sure, firm strokes.

He heard Snape chuckling behind him, no doubt enjoying his submission, but by now Harry was too far gone to care – the sensations swimming over him were too exquisite. Snape was twisting his hand on each upstroke, delivering an intensity of sensation that was almost painful, but not quite. It was driving Harry to the brink of madness. And in that moment, it didn't matter that Snape was the one doing it. He needed this; he needed this so badly.

Harry could feel Snape pulling his boxers down, but by the time he was coherent enough to protest, Snape had already pressed a slick finger inside him. Harry started, releasing a squeak at the sudden penetration and tried to move away. But Snape held him still and intensified his heavenly stroking.

And suddenly, a burst of lightning surged through him as Snape touched him just so. Harry howled at the sensation, releasing a string of incoherencies under his breath. He was aware that he was moaning, and loudly at that – it left him mortified at how good this felt.

Snape was cackling behind him now, enraptured in perverse glee. "Still going to argue you aren't enjoying yourself, hmm? Look at the wanton little slut you are, writhing on my finger." A pause, and then he asked suggestively, "Would you like it to be something else, Potter?"

The thought sent a frisson of fear straight down Harry's spine, but he was almost there. Not a moment later, Harry came, shuddering shamelessly as he grasped the far edge of the desk to steady himself against the force of his climax.

His body slumped against the desk in exhaustion. It took only a moment before his head cleared enough to realize what had just happened. What had just happened…with Snape. Oh god! His body curled up in shame.

He could hear the creak of a chair behind him, and knew that Snape had taken a seat.

"This has been quite the illuminating detention, Potter."

Quite. He needed to get out of here and obliviate himself as soon as possible.

"You may stand up, Potter."

Finally! Harry wanted to pull up his trousers, but he knew Snape wanted to twist every last ounce of humiliation out of him before allowing him to do so, so he waited.

"Now," Snape continued, "sit down."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, turning his head slightly around.

"Eyes front, Potter!"

Harry obeyed, but by now was hyperventilating. He had seen enough. Snape seated in the chair, his erection jutting out from his opened trousers.

This wasn't happening. This could not be happening.

"Sir, I'm sorry I said those things you earlier. I was way out of line. But please don't—" Harry began frantically.

"Potter, I've had enough of your pathetic apologies. Now you best do as you are told and sit."

"Please, sir, I've never…" Harry couldn't finish the sentence.

But if he was hoping to inspire Snape's sympathy, he was deadly mistaken.

"A virgin?" Snape asked disbelievingly, his voice on the edge of laughter. "You've got to be kidding me, Potter." A pause and then Snape was deadly serious again. "But then let this be your first lesson in sex: don't ever expect satisfaction without being prepared to give it in return."

Harry turned around, hoping to reason with Snape but froze at the heated violating gaze on Snape's face. Harry's stare dropped and his eyes bulged at what he saw.

"Turn around!" Snape bellowed.

Harry obeyed at once, his stomach now twisted in knots.

"Professor, I'm begging you—"

"Begging, eh? Would you prefer to get down on your knees instead then?" Snape asked darkly. "That might be a nice preamble."

Oh god.

Snape began to laugh. It was not at all pleasant…harsh, almost cruel.

"Professor, please don't make me…"

"Don't make me ask you again, Potter, or you will regret it."

He didn't want this. First of all, this was Snape. Second, he'd heard the first time was supposed to hurt, and dear god Snape was huge. And weren't you supposed to prepare for this sort of thing? No, Harry realized, he really did not want this. Surely Snape didn't really intend of forcing him. It seemed that way sure, but he was probably just being cruel – drawing out this tortuous charade as long as possible to prolong Harry's terror. There was no way he would actually rape a student.

"Sir, I—"

True to his word, Snape was on feet in an instant. He wound a fist in Harry's hair and yanked him roughly back against his chest.

Harry grit his teeth as Snape pulled him back, forcing him to bend backwards so far, he found himself balancing on the tips of his toes.

As though he'd been reading Harry's mind earlier – maybe he was – Snape said, "Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not simply drawing this out as a threat. I can't believe you'd think me that kind, Potter. No, you're going to do this. Consider it…the rest of your punishment. A duly deserved one at that." Snape's voice lowered to a silky whisper, "I myself have been wanting this for a very long time, and I will not be deprived of this golden opportunity. Now sit down!"

Panicked, Harry scrambled towards his robe, trying to find his wand.

"I have it, Potter. It's no use."

Somehow that made it real. His wand had been taken from him. Snape wasn't playing games. He intended on doing this. He struggled harder this time.

But to no avail. Snape tightened his grip further, causing Harry's eyes to tear. His mouth was right next to Harry's ear as he spoke. "Stop fighting and do what I say. Don't make me pull you down," Snape threatened. "I assure you, I would enjoy it very much. You, on the other hand, would not."

Harry was heaving deep breaths as he took in Snape's words. And yet he seemed to be suffocating.

"Do you understand?" When no answer came, he snapped, "Yes or no?"


Snape released him and slowly moved to sit back in the chair. Grabbing hold of Harry's hands, he placed them on the arms of the chair.

"Spread your legs and bend your knees."

Reluctantly and slowly, Harry did as he was told.

"Now sit."

Harry took a moment before complying, trying to figure a way out of this, but quickly realizing he was out of options. Snape would make good on his threat, and then he'd end up badly injured. Harry took a steadying breath and began to sit as slowly as possible, trying not to think about what was happening.

The next thing he knew Snape had snaked a hand under his shirt and began to tease his nipples. When Harry felt the resultant waves of arousal sweep down his body, he tried to blame it on teenage hormones, on the adrenaline coursing through his body. But he realized that Snape was right. He was twisted.

When Harry first felt Snape's erection against him, he jerked away. But he was quickly stilled by Snape squeezing his left nipple between his fingernails, eliciting a mewl of pain from him as he wondered if Snape had drawn blood. With far too much skill, Snape held him firmly with just one arm.

"Not nearly as eager as you were before I see. Where's that Gryffindor courage?" Snape mocked.

Harry remained silent.

"Sit down," Snape ordered.

Another breath before Harry braced himself against the arms of the chair and started to sit. Instantly, Harry knew he hadn't been ready for the pain. Tears welled up heavy in his eyes, until he could see nothing in front of him.

Harry grunted through the burn, biting his lip in an effort to remain silent. He did his best not to jerk away, the sweat pouring down his face as he took a few deep breaths. He paused for what seemed like an eternity, but oddly enough Snape did not say a word to hurry him along.

When the pain had subsided somewhat, Harry continued to sit, hyperaware of the noises Snape was making. By this point, the man had relaxed his hold on Harry and was groaning in pleasure behind him.

When Harry was almost seated, he quickly wiped the tears leaking out of his eyes before Snape could see them and taunt him further. When he moved to sit all the way down, Snape stilled him with a hand, almost gentle, on his back. "Now back up."

Harry obeyed.

The second time was nowhere near as painful as the first, and as the command came from behind him to move a bit faster, Harry obeyed, no longer wondering why he was listening to everything Snape told him without argument, without struggle.

"Tilt forward just a little bit," Snape instructed.

On the next down stroke Harry yelped, sucking in deep gulps of air as the pressure on that spot inside him sent frissons of pleasure down to his groin. Almost without thought, Harry sped up his movements.

Suddenly a low hiss came from Snape, the words almost affectionate, "Good boy."

Harry felt the strangest sensation erupt in his chest at those words. He couldn't have described it if he'd tried. He kept up his movements, steadily increasing the pace as Snape's moans became louder.

"Faster. That's it…just…like…that. Such a good boy."

Harry thought he should have been gagging then, sick to his stomach at this perverse praise. But his arousal only grew with each passing second. Not from Snape's words – but from infernal, wonderful spot he kept hitting. That had to be it, Harry told himself. It had to be. The tears were falling freely now, but there was no more pain.

"Do you know why I'm having you do this?" Snape asked, his voice strangled and deliberate as if the words required too much concentration to formulate. "Because you'll always remember that you're the one moving up and down on me…"

Harry whimpered in shame before nearly screaming in pleasure when Snape reached around him and took him in his hand.

"And now I see why," Snape said. "You're hard as a rock."

Without warning, Snape stood up, shoving Harry forcefully against the desk, pressing their bodies flush, whispering against his neck. "I was right, wasn't I? You do crave this…being used like this."

Oh god. Goosebumps rose all down his neck at the hot breath in his ear.

"At least the next time such nasty words come out of your mouth…I'll know how to stop them. And you'd like it, wouldn't you?"

Harry groaned and clawed at the wood underneath his fingers.

"…Using you for my pleasure," Snape grunted darkly. "Such a naughty little thing…"

By now Snape had pinned Harry flat against the desk, which was making as much noise as both of them, creaking with each movement. Papers flew and inkwells tumbled, shattering at their feet.

"Such a dirty…dirty boy you are," Snape murmured obscenely.

Harry lost it then, shuddering helplessly against Snape's desk.

Snape did not still his movements for even a second and moments later came with almost a scream.

Snape sagged on top of the young body beneath him for a moment before leaning back and collapsing in the chair behind him, taking Harry down with him into his lap. His arms reached out and closed around Harry, holding him – almost protectively, lovingly.

"Are you alright?"

Harry mumbled an assent as Snape placed a kiss on the back of his neck.

"Is that what you wanted?" Snape asked softly.

"Perfect," Harry managed. "Damn that was…god I love you."

The arms tightened their hold.

"I'm going to pass out now, Severus," Harry warned as he let his head fall back against Snape's shoulder.

Snape chuckled behind him. "I'll take care of you."

Snape whispered a warming charm and planted a series of soft kisses along Harry's brow, lulling him into a deep satiated sleep.

to be continued…

Author's Note: This little role-play scenario is the first chapter of my Sequel to Light of the Dark Side of Me. Harry and Severus are in an established relationship. But I promise much angst! (Could I deliver anything else?) In Memory's Wake opens in late January of Harry's last year. Four weeks has passed since the end of Light on the Dark Side of Me.

While this chapter can easily be read alone, I highly recommend reading the prequel before beginning the rest of the story.

This chapter is censored on this website. To read the full version, visit my profile page which will present you to two options (my LJ or skyehawke).

Thank you to my betas Snapes Nightie and Molvanian Queen-In-Exile for their advice.

Feedback is always appreciated.