Title: A Slow Seduction
Author: Shara Lunison
Summary: Severus was always entranced by those eyes. Green, just like hers. When Harry glimpses the hint of a smile, the game is on. Who will win at this slow seduction?
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: This is a re-post of an old story that I deleted a while back. Nothing has changed, except the header. Please read and review!
When Severus had first seen those green eyes he had been arrested with the memory of another face- the face of someone he had always held dear. His childhood love had long since been stolen away from him, first by Potter, and then by the Dark Lord. But when those eyes had first looked upon him he had felt his heart thumping wildly in reaction and for an instant, he believed that she had come back to him. That this time, he could take back his spiteful words and make things work.
And then the boy had flinched, reaching a hand up to rub the scar on his forehead. Severus' gaze focused on that last remnant of his former master and scowled. The boy was nothing more than a spoiled little hero who cared about nothing but fame, he was sure. He forced himself to ignore the boy's size in relation to his year-mates or the gaunt hollows in his cheekbones. Instead, Snape set about tormenting the boy, trying to force the big-headedness out of him while he was still young.
He hadn't expected those green eyes to snap at him, or to be talked back to. Students simply did not talk back to Severus Snape. The anger in those orbs drew him in until once more he believed he was looking at Lily. Coppery red hair framed that oval face, and the thin wire-framed glasses magnified…
Glasses? He had screamed at the boy, enraged that he would dare behave so like his mother. Severus took twice as many house points as he normally would and when the boy looked as though he would argue and bring back that painful visage to Severus' sight he had added a week of detentions, relieved rather than triumphant when that shut the boy up.
But a part of him continued to tempt fate by goading the young Potter. Whenever an opening became available he seemed unable to ignore it, waging a constant war with the Gryffindor. He had lost count of the number of detentions he had given. And it enraged him when Potter would simply do the work that was asked of him, with no complaints. Severus told himself it was because the idea of the boy being willing to work didn't fit in with his image of the attention seeking Boy-Who-Lived, but again it was that part that wished to see the eyes snap. And if he had paid any attention to his own excuse, he would have realized that the boy was not at all what he had thought.
When the Dark Lord had returned, Severus had been well rewarded by his master for insinuating himself into Dumbledore's Order. Little did Voldemort know that it was in fact the Death Eaters that Snape was spying on. With the return of the dark side, he absently began to notice that Potter was rubbing his scar more than usual. He had made the mistake of mentioning it to Dumbledore.
When the brat's fifth year began Dumbledore started to avoid Harry's eyes. He told only Severus that he feared the Dark Lord would try to reach for himself through the boy. And in return for that secret, he ordered Snape to begin teaching the Boy-Who-Lived the art of occlumency. That is where his problems with the boy at last came to a head.
Disgusted at the thought of seeing Potter being pampered and fawned upon, he had not bothered to tell the boy how to shield his mind during the onslaught. However counter-productive his methods, he was later grateful for his lack of foresight in the matter. Potter's memories shocked him. Finally forced to come to face with the fact that Potter was not doted on, but was in fact notoriously abused by his family, Severus again resorted to anger and violence. He ripped into the boy's mind over and over, almost not caring any longer whether Potter learned occlumency or not.
And then had come that fateful night when Draco had called him away. He left to settle the disturbance in his common room and when he returned and found Potter viewing a memory in his pensieve, he was enraged. He knew- he just knew that it was his very worst memory. He followed the boy in and pulled him out, but not before his horrible little secret had been viewed.
Severus could not recall ever having been so enraged. It was an anger fueled by fear, by hurt, by shame, and by guilt. Holding Potter by the neck of his robes he could see in those terrified green eyes that the boy did not even realize what he had seen. He thought the memory had been placed in the pensieve because of what his father had been doing to Snape. But it was the one word that Severus had spoken in that memory that made him hide it away. Mudblood.
He hid it because that was the day he had lost Lily for good. Not because he was any better or worse than James Potter, but because he had squandered her friendship, her support- he had thrown away all of it for his petty schoolboy rivalry.
Snape could barely recall throwing the boy out of his office, or downing the bottle of firewhisky he kept on the mantle in his quarters. The only image he could ever call up from that night was a pair of wide, terrified green eyes surrounded by wire-framed spectacles. He had finally, after four years of struggle, managed to separate Harry Potter from Lily Evans. And still those eyes haunted him.
When he finally came to terms with what he had done, he found he felt quite as bad about scaring Potter away that night as he did for betraying Lily. Not to mention that he had promised Albus that he would teach the boy how to guard his mind. He knew, once more, that he had failed to do right, and the sin weighed on him more than any of the terrible deeds he had been forced to perform in the Dark Lord's service.
He worked up the courage to seek the boy out and explain himself. To apologize. He could hardly believe that he would let his control slip so far- but it was a desperate need that could not be assuaged with any excuse. Harry must be told everything.
Severus eventually managed to search him out in the hospital wing. Potter was always getting hurt in one way or another, and Madame Pomfrey generally insisted that her patients stay overnight, no matter how small the damage done to their bodies. He should know, she had threatened to tie him to a hospital bed often enough.
Snape slipped in after curfew, slinking silently up to the bed in the far corner near the windows. It was an unspoken agreement among the teachers that it was "Harry's bed". He almost lost his resolve when he saw that the boy was asleep already. The Boy-Who-Lived seemed so peaceful lying there. Without his glasses his face looked even more like Lily's, and he feared that if those eyes were to open and look at him it would be his undoing.
Frowning at his thoughts, he unconsciously ran a hand through the silky black hair that lay in a tangled mess across the pillow. Harry Potter was not the same as Lily. He knew that. But still he wondered what it would be like if those eyes were to look on him with love.
His hand stilled. He had wondered that about Lily as well. But this was Potter. True, Severus had come to admit that Harry was nothing like his father, but he had thought he would always love Lily. He had certainly managed to love her since they were children, and loved her even now though she had been dead 14 years. Yet still there was Harry.
Severus looked down at the sleeping form next to him. He didn't understand his sudden feelings of protectiveness and caring. Though he had realized how wrongly the boy had been treated, both by himself and his adoptive family, there was no explanation for this- affection.
He sat heavily in the chair beside the bed, holding his head in his hands. Snape was unsure of his motives, or even in his intentions for acting on them. Was it simply a need to care for the son that Lily had left behind? A parental urge? Looking at that innocent form he could almost believe it. But then his eyes found the soft lips, the long lashes, and the thick fringe that Harry used in vain to try and hide his scar. Smiling softly at his own idiocy, Snape knew that his thoughts were far from parental.
So that just left love. He was not in love yet, he knew. But if those eyes were to look at him just right, he would be lost. Shivering slightly, he wondered if it was simply the eyes that kept him entranced. First Lily, now Harry. He did not dwell on the question of when Potter had become "Harry".
Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the first flicker of the boy's eyes until he was looking into sleepy green orbs.
"Professor?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I see you are awake." Snape did his best to quell his emotions back into control. The last thing he needed was for Potter to get a sense of what he was struggling with.
"You look… worried." Harry observed, frowning at the darkly clad man sitting beside his bed. He could not recall Severus Snape, menacing bat of the dungeons, ever looking anything but, well, menacing.
Damn. Severus thought. "That is none of your concern, Potter." He barked out loud, before wincing internally as he heard his own voice. He sounded so harsh, so cruel. He remembered that he had come here to apologize before his thoughts had run away with him.
Harry had stiffened at his words, affronted. "I was just concerned, Professor. Next time I'll keep my comments to myself." He snapped back waspishly.
This time Severus really did wince. "I am sorry. I did not mean…" Realizing how weak he sounded, he stood and began to pace at the foot of the bed, spurred on as he felt Harry's eyes watching him with concern.
After several minutes of silence broken only by the sound of Severus' shoes, he stopped and gave a heavy sigh as he turned to face Harry. "I came up here to apologize to you, Mr. Potter. I believe I may have acted cruelly to you during our last meeting. While you had stepped out of bounds, my reaction was also unacceptable. It is very important that you learn to occlude your mind, and if you are agreeable I would like to continue our lessons." He grimaced as he admitted, "Properly this time."
"Did Professor Dumbledore make you come up here and do this?" Harry asked curiously. He couldn't imagine anyone but the Headmaster being able to eke this much humbleness from the Potions Master.
"No." Severus said shortly. His lips twitched as he observed Harry's raised eyebrow. "He did ask me to try to convince you to continue the lessons, but he did not order me to apologize. That was my choice."
He was startled by the wide grin that Harry gave him. Dear Gods, the boy would be his undoing yet! He focused on the boy's words, "In that case, I accept your apology and I suppose I should try the lessons again as well. And I'm sorry, Professor, for invading your privacy like I did. I really didn't intend to see the memory, I just leaned in a little too close…"
"That is enough, Potter." Severus said, not unkindly. "Your apology is also accepted." And then he allowed a smile, a true smile, to turn up the corners of his lips for what felt like the first time in years.
The look in Harry's eyes at that smile made his breath catch in his throat. There was a dawning understanding there, as though the pieces of the puzzle had finally come together enough for the picture to be seen. But beneath that was a flicker of something that Severus' emotions decided to label as hope.
Breaking his gaze away from Harry's, Severus murmured a good night before walking to the end of the ward. He paused to look back before slipping out the door, "I will expect you at my office tomorrow evening at 7. Do not be late."
After he had left, Harry collapsed back onto the pillows and let out the breath he had been holding since the man had started walking away. He had been absolutely captivated by his teacher's smile. Harry had never seen Snape relax in any way, yet with that small smile years had fallen from his face- he had seemed, for the first time in Harry's experience, approachable.
He could readily admit that although the Potions Master had been unfair when dealing with Gryffindor and with Harry himself, the man had never treated him with the same awe and amazement that most people heaped upon him. He could even, if he thought about it, admit that he had always appreciated that. Potions classes were the one part of his day where he could be just Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, the Slytherins tended to ruin that opportunity at every chance.
Now into his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry had been learning some truths about himself. With Cedric's death, Cho had at last returned his feelings, and their brief relationship had been an unmitigated disaster. The one kiss that he had managed in all his short fifteen years had been a sloppy wet mess that left him absolutely cold. After the end of the doomed relationship, Harry had begun to wonder if, perhaps, it wasn't simply Cho's tears during their romantic endeavors, but himself.
He had begun to pay more attention to his reactions to people, both male and female. It wasn't long before he realized that his gaze would linger a little too long on one of his dorm mates in the showers, or that when changing after quidditch practice he always did so while facing the room while the others would face their lockers. He had tried to convince himself that he just appreciated the male form or that he was jealous of so-and-so's muscles, but then Draco Malfoy of all people had shattered his excuses.
It had been a dare made by Blaise Zabini. Malfoy had set out to find Harry just before curfew and caught him returning from the library with a book Hermione had asked him to go fetch. Expecting to be attacked, Harry had drawn his wand, only to find his wrists slammed into the wall above his head and a pair of lips pressing against his own. He was too surprised at first to do anything and by the time he had the forethought to react, his body refused to do anything but continue kissing the other boy.
Although slightly surprised by the response once he had pulled away, Malfoy had simply grinned cheekily at Harry as he released his wrists, saying, "You're welcome," before chucking him under the chin with one knuckle and walking away.
Harry had stayed slumped against the wall until Snape had billowed up to take points and give detention. In the end he had walked back to Gryffindor tower in a zombie-like state, not quite able to understand his reaction yet.
In the morning, of course, his mind had cleared and he treated his morning erection as he thought of those very male lips on his own.
He hadn't turned back since.
When he had been ordered by Dumbledore to begin the occlumency lessons with Snape, he had been horrified. The idea of all his thoughts and memories being available to that man had made his skin crawl. And in many ways, his fear was justified. Snape had been his usual cantankerous self. But he had also surprised Harry. Even after viewing memories of his less than stellar childhood, the man hadn't said a thing. He also hadn't treated Harry any differently than he always had.
It was then that Harry had begun to think of Snape as a real person instead of his greasy git of a Potions Professor. He began to wonder if it was all just an act. If, in fact, Snape simply had a role to play as Voldemort's right-hand-man and extended his role to cover all aspects of his life, so that no falsehood could be found.
And he wondered what the real man was like.
Harry had been sure that his fantasies of a man who smiled and laughed- someone who joked- had been just that: fantasies. But then there had been that smile, and now Harry was left imagining so much more. And somehow, the first thing he wanted to see was that smile turning wicked. He wanted to see the gleam in the man's eyes. And worst of all, he wanted those smiles for himself. No one else should be allowed to see them.
Frowning, Harry realized with dawning horror that he was attracted to his Potions Professor. The irritable, greasy, sarcastic, horrible man with a caustic sense of humor- and he wanted him all to himself. He actually chuckled when he realized that everyone would gladly let him have the man- though he was sure they'd all question his sanity.
Grinning up at the ceiling, Harry considered his plan of attack. He didn't question his attraction any longer, having learned with Cho that there often wasn't an explanation for these things. You either loved or you didn't. He wanted the Potions Master, and by Merlin he was going to have him, or he wasn't the Boy-Who-Braved-The-Potions-Master's-Ire.
Meanwhile down in his quarters, Severus was once again pacing, but this time he was deep in thought. He was trying to figure out some way of making Harry like him, and subsequently forming a relationship with him. While the logical part of his mind felt that this was immoral, as Harry was still his student and he was old enough to be the boy's father, the rest of him knew deep down that there was no fighting this feeling.
His first thought had been to simply confess. He had immediately discarded the notion out of fear that Harry would be horrified and would run to McGonagall or Dumbledore to inform them of Snape's misdemeanor. Besides, he wasn't a person well suited to confessions of love- and this wasn't love yet anyway.
Next he thought perhaps he might be able to woo the boy with presents and treats. He had nearly banged his own head into the wall, mentally screaming at himself that Potter was not a woman playing hard to get or a dog. He was a boy on the verge of becoming a man. He needed to be treated as such.
So for the last hour he had been plotting his third and final thought- seduction. It would have to be a slow seduction, he knew. He couldn't scare the boy off too soon. Luckily he knew from his godson, Draco, that Harry most definitely preferred males. Squashing his irritation that Draco had sampled the other boy before him, Severus turned to planning. Step one- getting to first base.
Little did he know that Harry was having his own thoughts about seduction upstairs in the hospital wing.
The two men didn't meet again until 7 the next evening. Harry made sure to arrive exactly on time, rapping smartly on the door. He had dressed carefully for the evening, removing his school tie and blazer, un-tucking his shirt and undoing a few buttons at both the top and bottom. He had also attempted to tame his hair. He had been growing it out longer in the hopes that the extended length wouldn't stick up quite so much. He now had it secured in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and while the ends were still short enough that they stuck up in flippy chunks, the effect was now quite wicked- according to Ron and Hermione.
The door opened to reveal a distinctly relaxed Severus Snape. His own hair was free of the potions he coated it in to protect it from the exploding cauldrons that were the norm during the school day. Without it's greasy texture, his hair fells in soft, silky lines around his face. He had also forgone his robes and had even unbent enough to undo the multitude of buttons on his black waistcoat, revealing a white peasant's tunic underneath. He almost smiled as he saw Harry's eyes trace the long 'v' of skin that went nearly to his bellybutton.
Gulping, Harry smiled up at his Professor as he was ushered into the office. The man looked like a sex god. Trying desperately to tear his eyes away from his professor's chest, Harry focused on whatever Snape was saying to him.
"I realize that I did not teach you how to block me out of your mind during our previous attempts. I'm ashamed to say that I was rather irritated with Albus for forcing me into this. However, now that we have agreed to begin again, I believe I should give you some basic instruction before we move on to the practical again."
Harry nodded his understanding and listened as attentively as he could with the man's pale, muscled chest distracting him. There were a multitude of scars there, and he wanted to trace every one of them with his fingers, his lips, his tongue…
"Are you listening to me, Potter?" Snape asked sternly, interrupting Harry's lascivious thoughts. He realized he was drooling.
"Yes, sir, you were explaining about building a wall between my thoughts and reality. I'm just not really sure how to find that position in my mind." Harry jerked his eyes away from the pale skin and met the obsidian eyes instead. He immediately realized it was a mistake. There was a flame burning there that left him breathless, and he barely heard Snape as he murmured, "Why don't I show you?"
The next thing Harry felt was a consciousness slipping within his own. Unbidden, his lustful thoughts came to the surface and even as he blushed on the outside, inside he was triumphant. This was his plan. As soon as Severus entered his mind, confront him with obscene images of the two of them. He firmly believed the man could not possibly be made of stone. It would take a saint to ignore the hormonal drive of a teenaged boy. And, of course, he was hoping that smile the night before had been intended for him because the man actually did care. Harry was leaving a lot up to chance with this one attack. He was still praying that he wouldn't suddenly find himself on his arse in the hallway, when a pair of warm lips descended on his own.
Severus had at first been shocked by the thoughts running through Harry's mind. Then, as an image of himself ripping the clothes from the boy's body flitted past his consciousness like a cavorting sheep dressed in drag, he felt himself harden and without thinking had crossed the room to Harry in three strides. He left the other's mind and the tantalizing images as he crashed their lips together in a fiery kiss.
They both moaned hungrily, and all of Severus' thoughts about taking things slow leaked from his brain as all his blood relocated to his groin. He ground himself against Harry, earning a delighted gasp from the boy. Severus took the opportunity to relocate his mouth to Harry's jaw line, then his ear, then his neck. Growling when his explorations met the stiff cotton of the schoolboy shirt, he grabbed either half of the shirt tails and yanked, popping free the remaining four buttons that had kept Harry moderately clothed. With more skin now available for his inspection, he continued from the neck to the shoulder, kneeling now as his mouth attacked first one dusky nipple and then the other.
Harry was by now a mewling mass of pleasure. He clutched at Severus' head, his fingers carded through the silky black strands of his teacher's hair. He barely noticed as the Potions Master undid the button and zip on his black trousers, but blearily looked down with surprise as he felt the confining restriction around his prick removed. Blushing, he realized that he now stood naked before a very much-clothed Severus Snape. Fortunately, he didn't have much time to contemplate that thought before the older man's mouth closed around him. The wet heat almost immediately undid him, and it only took a few short strokes of Severus' mouth before he felt a fire uncurling in his belly before shooting fireworks to every extremity of his body.
Gasping, Harry's legs gave out beneath him, but Snape was there to catch him, cradling the younger man in his arms. Grinning down at the now furiously blushing Boy-Who-Lived, Severus carried him through an adjoining door that led straight into his living quarters. Another door found them in a bedroom with a large four-poster bed complete with crimson silk sheets and black hangings.
Severus gently lay his lover on the sheets before shucking his own clothes and climbing on top of him. He noticed Harry gulp audibly and gently leaned down to his Adam's apple, causing the boy to swallow again against his lips.
"Severus." The whisper of his name made Snape look up again to see Harry smiling at him. A pair of warm hands reached up to gently caress his face and pull him down for a hesitant kiss. Parting his lips, the Potions Master allowed the boy to explore with his tongue, slowly building the intensity of the kiss until they were waging a war with their mouths. Their hands ran restlessly over each other's bodies, and Severus moaned deep in his throat when a small hand found his throbbing cock.
"Harry!" He gasped, grasping the wrist of that wonderful hand and pulling it away. "I want to be inside you. Please." He pleaded with those wide green eyes and was relieved when Harry just smiled and pulled him down for another kiss.
With one hand, Severus reached into his bedside table and pulled out a jar of his homemade lube. He had made it to cause a warm tingling sensation on contact with the skin. Dipping one finger into the cream, he reached between their bodies and gently inserted the finger into Harry's body, working it around thoroughly before returning for more cream and adding a second finger. This time, he managed to hit the boy's prostate and swallowed the moan that emerged from his lover's mouth with his own. Three fingers managed to reduce Harry to begging, "Sev, please, please, oh God! Please!"
Chuckling, Snape coated his member with the slick solution and placed himself at Harry's entrance. He hesitated, "You're sure this is what you want?" Severus stared down into passion-hazed green eyes as the boy nodded his acquiescence. Not stopping to think any further, he impaled Harry with his length and they both moaned at the feeling of filling and being filled. He paused once he was fully sheathed in his younger lover, waiting for Harry to adjust to the feeling. Finally, Harry regained his breath and rotated his hips against Severus to show that he was ready.
They were quickly lost in the sensations they were creating. Severus made sure to strike the Boy-Who-Lived's prostrate with every stroke, driving the boy into incoherency within minutes. When he felt the first clenching of the muscles surrounded him, Snape reached for Harry's neglected member, roughly stroking him and wrenching a violent orgasm from his lover. The increased pressure around him caused him to follow a few seconds later before collapsing in a heap with Harry on the bed.
"That was… amazing." Harry gasped, still trying to catch his breath. Severus rolled off of him, pulling the younger man into his arms to face him.
"Yes, it was." The Professor gave a small, sated smile as he stroked Harry's cheek. After several minutes he added, "You managed to ruin all of my carefully laid plans."
"Oh?" Harry asked, snuggling into Severus' neck.
"Yes. I was going to seduce you slowly. Tonight's goal was to kiss you without you running away. I daresay I underestimated you." Snape kissed the top of his lover's head.
Harry laughed. "I daresay that's nothing new, Professor." He looked up at the older man. "So, now that I've accelerated your plans, what are we going to do now?"
"What would you like?" Severus' obsidian eyes bored into Harry's green ones.
"You." He whispered. "Just you. I…" Harry looked away again, hiding his face in Snape's chest. "I don't love you, not yet. But what we have is something… important, I think."
Severus smiled as he pulled Harry closer. "No." He said. "It's not love yet, but it's close."