A/N: Thanks to Lori for the beta on this! Gift fic for tbt93
"Powdered Moonstone, Anderson, not crushed Moonstone."
Snape stalked menacingly up and down the aisles, occasionally issuing a command, or a scathing insult.
Harry, who'd somehow become Snape's teacher's assistant this year, thanked the gods he wasn't sitting among the cowering students.
From his position beside Snape's desk, he had a fantastic view of the entire room. But, only one person held his rapt attention. The professor scowled at another shaking third year, and Harry studied every line on the man's face.
Snape looked older, without a doubt, but the set of his shoulders told the story of a man who'd had a weight lifted. He moved with more grace, and carried himself like the relieved hero he was. He also, surprisingly, no longer tormented Harry. Harry even had a suspicion the professor may have actually requested Harry to be his assistant.
Each returning Eighth Year student was assigned a Professor to assist them during one class period each day. Some of the more talented students had been given apprenticeships as well. Harry was apprenticing in DADA. He was pretty sure that at the end of the year, he'd be offered a teaching position, as Professor McNeil was resigning. He and McGonagall had discussed the possibility, and Harry was seriously considering it. He would have to give up his dream of being an Auror. But, after the war, he wasn't really sure he wanted to continue fighting. He also had another reason for being interested in calling Hogwarts home. Harry glanced up to see Snape eyeing him from the back of the classroom.
"Potter, those papers will not mark themselves." Snape said.
Grinning, Harry replied, "Oh, I don't know, I think I could charm the quill to-"
"Potter, mark the papers, and do so in a proper manner, please."
Harry still wasn't used to the way Snape had begun talking to him. 'Please' and "Thank you" were often used, and rarely was the man hateful with him. It was nice. No, it was more than nice, and was one of the main reasons Harry found it difficult to concentrate when the man was nearby.
The rest of the class passed smoothly, and Harry was almost finished marking, when the students began to leave. Technically, he could leave with them; he only belonged to Snape for the length of his last class. But, as usual, Harry stayed behind to finish, and it had everything to do with the way Snape relaxed once the door shut after his last student vacated the room.
Snape removed his outer robe, leaving him in a black button down and equally black trousers. He pushed his sleeves up, revealing tightly corded arms, as he began selecting potion ingredients. Harry marked the remaining papers quickly, and stood up, moving toward Snape.
"Anything I can help with?"
"You are dismissed, Potter. You may join your insipid peers, and engage in whatever idiotic activities you partake of in your free time."
Snape started to chop the root he was holding, never once looking directly at Harry. It was disheartening, this odd behavior. While Snape was nicer to him, less biting with his insults, he was also more distant when they were alone. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it.
"I really don't mind helping, Professor. We both know I can't brew, but I'm not horrible with measuring and preparing. I… I really would like to help. Otherwise, I'll just go back to my room and sit around by myself."
Snape harrumphed, but passed Harry the scales and a knife.
"Do try not to cut yourself. And, if my brewing is interrupted by galloping Gryffindors bursting in to rescue you, I will not be impressed."
"Oh, there's not much chance of that. Hermione and Ron are entirely too entangled with each other to notice my absence."
Harry moved closer to Snape, but only because he needed to be able to reach the ingredients better; he chose to ignore the idea of working from the other side of the table.
"Feeling sorry for yourself, Potter?"
"Not really, I'd rather be here with you anyway." Harry said, carefully weighing the powdered Moonstone that had been prepared by the last class, and trying not to blush.
"I find that particularly difficult to believe. Surely there is some pretty, nubile, air headed girl who would be more than pleased to fill your free time."
"Yeah, probably, but I'm not really interested." Harry's hand shook, and he spilled a bit of dust on the table.
Snape dropped a few lacewing flies into a softly simmering cauldron, then he turned to face Harry.
"If you continue to make a mess of my work station, you will find yourself banned from my classroom."
"Sorry, Professor." Harry quickly cleaned up the powder, depositing it back into the container.
"That is enough, Potter. If you insist on further irritating me with your presence, I have a task I believe even you incapable of ruining."
Harry didn't respond to Snape's jab, and, instead, followed him into his office. Harry often joined Snape in his office at the end of the day. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they traded friendly insults, and every now and then, they would share a drink. Those were Harry's favorite times, because, for a short while, he could pretend Snape might actually be interested in him. He could pretend they were friends, or that they might possibly be more.
"I would like for you to arrange the texts on the far shelf. I have recently acquired some new material, and they need to be sorted into alphabetical order."
Harry nodded, and set about straightening the books.
The worked in silence, Snape pouring over essays, and Harry trying to remain focused on his job.
Organizing the shelf wasn't going very well for Harry. As much as he loved being alone with Snape, it also unnerved him. He was sure, at some point, he'd give his feelings away. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Harry knew Snape was gay. He was also pretty sure that it'd been a while for Snape. So, it wasn't inconceivable that Harry might stand a chance because of pure desperation. He wouldn't even ask for more than one night. He just wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by Snape, held by Snape, fucked by Snape.
"Mister Potter, I see that, in the span of ten minutes, you have managed to shelf exactly three tomes. Perhaps you would be better off joining your friends after all." Snape said, but he didn't make Harry leave. Instead, he dug out the bottle of scotch he kept tucked in the bottom drawer of his desk, and poured them both two fingers.
Harry downed his quickly, and diverted his eyes from Snape's neck, as it worked to swallow the alcohol.
"Well, do sit down. If you insist on staying, and cannot perform a simple task, at the very least, you can afford me a bit of company, lacking though it may be in intelligent discourse."
Feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol on his empty stomach, Harry grinned and said, "Maybe we shouldn't talk."
Staring into the remaining contents of his drink, Snape asked, "How do you propose we pass the time?"
Harry slid into the chair in front of Snape's desk, and held out his glass.
"Oh, I have a few ideas, but first, I think another drink is in order."
He'd been buzzed enough in Snape's presence before to hint, in a very roundabout way, at what he wanted. But, he'd never been pissed enough to say it outright. He was sure, with just a bit more liquid courage, he'd finally be able to ask, and appease his curiosity - if Snape was willing.
"Are you absolutely positive you need another drink? It would seem that you are slightly inebriated already. That is rather odd, considering you have imbibed very little scotch."
Snape poured Harry another splash, capped the bottle, and returned it to his desk drawer.
"Haven't had anything to eat today."
"That would explain your current state. I do have, on hand, a Sobering Draught, should you have need of it. I will not carry you to dinner."
Harry hadn't really had enough to drink to feel very bold, but he wanted to get the idea out there. So, ignoring the blush that warmed his face, Harry blurted, "What about your bed? Would you carry me there, if I asked?"
Snape quickly pulled himself up, ramrod straight, and looked at Harry, seeming to see directly into his soul.
"Mister Potter, would you care to repeat that?"
Harry leaned forward, a very serious expression on his face, "You heard me perfectly well."
Snape stared at him for several long minutes, before speaking. When he did finally open his mouth, Harry was confused by what he said.
"You would…?" Snape nodded, and Harry concentrated very hard, through the bit of fog in his brain, to remember what Snape was referring to. The moment he did, his hold on the arms of the chair tightened, and his jaw dropped in disbelief.
"Really?" Harry squeaked.
Snape nodded again, and very slowly relaxed, sipping at the last of his drink, and watching Harry carefully.
This was the moment Harry had been waiting for, but he was frozen, unable to process this new knowledge that Snape really might be interested.
Snape raised an eyebrow, as he set his glass aside, but didn't say anything. So, Harry found his voice, and nervously asked, "What are we waiting for?"
"I am waiting, Mister Potter, for you to actually ask the question. Otherwise, we can attribute this conversation to the alcohol, and go to dinner."
Harry stood a bit too quickly, and braced himself on the desk while he waited for Snape's office to stopping spinning. Once the spinning stopped, he smiled softly at Snape.
"Could we go to bed now? Together? I mean, if you were serious, that is."
"Have you ever known me to joke about matters such as this?"
"Well, we've never really discussed matters such as this before, so I don't know."
Harry saw Snape stand; he saw Snape moving toward him. But, for some reason, he was startled by the warm arms that encircled his waist, and the hard body that pressed gently into him.
"Allow me to put your fears to rest."
Then, Snape was kissing him. Harry's head spun again, as he was leaned back and thoroughly snogged. Snape pressed his tongue against the seam of his lips, and Harry opened under the assault. The slick slide of Snape's tongue inside his mouth was glorious. Snape mapped his mouth, leaving no spot unexplored, kissing him passionately.
In all the times Harry had imagined being with Snape, he never actually thought about kissing the man. He'd just never thought it would be an activity Snape would be inclined to engage in. But, here he was, being proven so very wrong. Snape moaned, when Harry grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him closer, and let him have complete control of their kiss.
When they parted, Snape looked him in the eye, asking, "This is not just the alcohol, is it? You have wanted this for some time."
Harry could only nod, and Snape reached up, running his fingers softly down Harry's cheek.
"As have I. I believe we should adjourn to my bedchamber; this is not an appropriate venue for what I have in mind."
Harry allowed himself to be tugged through the door behind Snape's desk. He barely noticed the sitting room, and focused solely on the bed once they were in Snape's bedchamber.
Snape's fingers worked quickly, unbuttoning Harry's shirt, and mumbling his appreciation for Harry's chest and stomach. With every button that popped, Snape seemed to grow more hurried and excited. Harry wriggled, laughing when Snape's fingers brushed over his ribs.
"Hmm, ticklish, are we?" And, Snape's wicked grin, and seductive drawl was enough to make Harry's heart race.
Snape pushed Harry's shirt to the floor, and lightly ran his hands down Harry's sides again, his grin growing larger when Harry shivered and giggled.
"Very interesting, indeed. However, sadly, I will have to leave this exploration for another time." Snape said, as he leaned in to nibble at Harry's ear. Snape's fingers tightened their hold on his sides, dragging Harry even closer.
"You are delectable." Snape murmured, as he worked his way down Harry's neck, moaning softly every time Harry arched into him.
"God, why did we wait so long to do this?" Harry asked, finally reaching up to tug at Snape's clothes.
"You seemed perfectly content to undress me with your eyes, rather than ask for what you wanted." Snape answered into Harry's neck.
"How was I supposed to know you would say yes?" Harry's voice broke, as Snape found one of his nipples, and sucked it into his mouth.
Harry gave up on trying to unbutton Snape's shirt, and ripped it open, "I'll fix that later, promise."
Snape trembled and sighed, as Harry's hands wandered over his chest and back. Harry explored thoroughly, all the while moving them toward the bed.
"Remove your trousers, and lie back." Snape instructed, stepping back, and watching as Harry obeyed.
Harry's hands shook slightly, as he dropped his remaining clothes to the floor. He lowered himself to the bed, eyes trained on Snape's face, and reclined, holding himself up with his elbows. Snape's eyes traveled the length of Harry's body, finally resting on his hard, dripping cock.
"Beautiful." Was the only thing he said, before lowering himself to his knees, and running his hands softly up Harry's thighs. Snape's fingers played delicately over Harry's lower body, teasing him, and coaxing needy whimpers from him.
"Please…" Harry begged, lifting his arse, trying to press his arousal into Snape's hovering hand.
Just as Snape lowered his hand to provide pressure to Harry's cock, a loud pop sounded through the room, startling them both.
"Oh!" Squeaked the house elf that had appeared, "Mimsey is being very sorry to disturb. But, Master Harry did not come for breakfast, then Master Harry missed lunch, and now, Master Harry is missing dinner. Mimsey is being very worried for Master Harry. Mimsey is bringing Master Harry and Master Snape some food."
Harry covered himself quickly, and despite being very annoyed at being interrupted, laughed at the way Mimsey referred to them. He was always 'Master Harry' to the house elves, but they never dared use Snape's first name.
Snape scowled heavily at the little elf, but motioned for her to leave the food on the bedside table. She withered a bit under his hard glare, but almost defiantly marched to the table. She left the tray she'd prepared, and popped out with one final smile and wave to Harry.
Grumbling, Snape opened the lid of the tray, and studied the contents.
"Well, at least the sniveling creature brought enough for both of us." Snape's eyes moved from the tray to Harry, and back again, a calculating look came over his face.
"Hmm, lie back down again, Potter."
Harry didn't argue, and gasped when Snape pulled a little bowl from the tray, walking toward Harry grinning devilishly.
"You know, there is something to be said for having one's dessert before the main course." Snape purred, before dropping a dollop of whipped cream in the middle of Harry's chest.
Harry hissed as the cool cream landed on him, but moments later, there was a warm tongue greedily lapping it up. Snape continued to smear the sticky mess over Harry's body, quickly cleaning it with his mouth. Harry couldn't contain his moans, as he was exposed to the cool, then hot sensation over and over again.
"Delicious," Snape declared, smearing an extra large portion of the cream on the head of Harry's cock.
Harry mewled, as Snape set about devouring his throbbing cock. Nothing had ever felt as wonderful as Snape's mouth felt, moving slowly up and down Harry's length, his tongue swirling around the tip and dipping just under his foreskin.
The bowl clattered to the floor, but Snape didn't seem bothered by it, as he wet a finger, and slipped his hand under Harry. Snape probed gently at him, seeking entrance. Harry was lost to the feel of Snape's finger pressing into him, the warmth of Snape's mouth wrapped around him. He tossed his head, groaning his pleasure, pushing back into Snape's hand, then forward into his mouth. Merlin, he couldn't decide which felt better. Suddenly, Snape raised his head from Harry's groin, and pulled his hand back, making Harry cry out in distress.
"Shh, I just need to Summon something." Snape did, and in moments, the finger was back, and was slick enough to push into Harry's body painlessly. Harry relaxed accepting the intrusion, and wanting so much more.
Snape moved quickly, preparing Harry thoroughly, as Harry scrabbled at Snape's shoulders crying out brokenly and desperately. And, before he knew it, Snape was leaning over him, pressing into him, filling him so slowly, but so completely. Harry moaned, spreading his legs as far as they would go, inviting Snape deeper, needing all of him.
His passage stretched around Snape's cock, and every movement, every thrust set Harry on fire. Snape's hands moved over Harry's body, playing with his nipples, splaying over his chest, and finally settling on Harry's hips, gripping them tightly.
"Oh God!" Harry cried out, as Snape changed angles, hitting his prostate relentlessly.
Snape's face was alight with pleasure. He bit harshly at his bottom lip; his eyes were riveted to Harry's face, pupils blown wide. Every thrust seem to force a grunt from him, and Harry knew he was very close.
When Harry reached down to touch himself, Snape stopped moving, then he growled as if it hurt him to do so. Grabbing both of Harry's hands in one of his, Snape pinned them to the bed above Harry's hand, and leaned on them for leverage, as he wrapped his other hand around Harry's aching prick.
It was over far too soon after that. Snape's hand, his cock, the way he was looking at Harry so intensely, so completely focused on Harry, proved to be more than he could withstand. Snape stroked him perfectly in time with the movement of his hips, and Harry's orgasm wouldn't be denied. It coiled in the pit of his stomach, like a snake ready to strike, then burst forth, slithering quickly through his body like lightening, erupting between them messily.
Harry rode out the aftershocks, writhing under Snape, as he continued to pound into him, picking up his pace, barreling toward his release.
"Guh!" Was the only sound Snape made, as he stilled, then jerked several times, emptying himself into Harry's willing body.
Endless moments later, Snape's soft prick slipped from Harry's body, and they both moaned as sensitive flesh slid against sensitive flesh. The cooling sweat on Harry's chest gave him a chill, and he shivered.
"I think it advisable to get you into a warm shower. Then, I believe you should eat something. After that, I would like to sleep."
Harry turned his head toward Snape, surprised at the implications of what the man had just said.
"You aren't kicking me out?"
"And, just why, pray tell, would I do that?"
"Oh, I thought… I was sure this was a one time thing."
Snape glared at Harry, mouth twisted into a frown.
"Would you prefer it that way?"
Harry hurried to assure Snape, "No, not at all. I just didn't think you'd want-"
"Do not think; leave that to people more suited for the endeavor. Now, please, join me in the shower."
Harry wasn't about to turn down that offer. He didn't know how long this would last, or how serious it would become, but he wanted to find out.