Fic: Consequences (1/5)
Feb. 26th, 2006 09:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asimplechordTitle: Consequences
Chapter: 1/5
Pairing: HP/SS, reference to past HP/SS/HG, HG/other in future
Warnings/Genre: smut, angst, romance, now HBP-compliant
Rating: NC17
Length: ~3500 words
Archived: Not yet, but will eventually make it to OWL and Ensnared. I'll link there when they are.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own these characters. If I did, as I've stated before, Snape would be busily seducing Harry instead of running off with Death Eaters.
Summary: Repercussions of the splinch-swap continue to be revealed.
The previous installments of this story are The Splinching of Severus Snape and The Morning After.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilyeyes for her input on this installment. :)
Long years of habit made it impossible for Severus to lie abed, inactive, once he had fully awakened. This morning, in particular, his plans had him in motion almost immediately after opening his eyes. Allowing himself only a brief moment to savor the warmth of the body at his side, he slid from the bed – their bed, now – and headed to the door, scooping his robe from the tangled pile of clothing on the floor and donning it before exiting the bedroom. Down the hall and down the stairs he went, heading to the kitchen, where he filled the kettle with water for tea and coffee. While it heated, he gathered the breakfast items he had requested from Dobby the night before, piling them onto a tray. After checking that the Everlasting Freshness Charm was working, he poured the water into the teapot and French press, levitated the tray and headed back upstairs.
Back in the bedroom, he let the tray come to rest on Harry’s bureau and stood for a long minute admiring his lover. Harry had kicked off the blankets in his restless movements. He lay half on his side, his face buried in his pillow, one knee crooked and fallen forward to the mattress, so that the expanse of his back was visible, the jagged scar that curved up his hip to the small of his back exposed.
The sight of that scar had Severus pausing, contemplating the role it had played in bringing them to their current situation.
*****
When he and Draco fled Hogwarts in the wake of Dumbledore’s death, Severus had hated no one as much as he hated Harry Potter. After showing Draco a guest bedroom, he had retreated to his Potions lab, where he had vented his rage and sorrow in a fury of broken glassware and spoilt ingredients. Exhausted, spent, he had dragged himself to his bedroom, only to find Fawkes awaiting him, a bottle of what looked like the swirling contents of a Pensieve gripped in his talons. The blasted bird wouldn’t leave him until he had emptied the memory into his Pensieve, and eyed him commandingly until Severus surrendered, leaning forward and immersing himself in the silvery stuff.
The memory was Dumbledore’s, of course; it consisted entirely of the old man’s own commentary, including his regrets and sorrow for not seeing what the circumstances of Severus’s youth had pushed him to do, and an apology for the acts he had forced Severus to commit in the name of the Order. The memory ended with the headmaster entreating him to help Potter on his path to adulthood, not simply as an ally against the Dark Lord, but as a human being. When he emerged from the Pensieve, Severus was bitterly amused that Albus’s last words, as his last thoughts on the Tower, had been about Potter.
He ignored his old friend’s final plea for several months, pushing it to the back of his mind until Potter arrived at Spinner’s End, close to collapse. Luckily, Draco had found a safe haven with his mother and departed, or the situation might have been grave indeed. Severus assumed that Potter, barely able to raise his wand, meant to disable or kill him, but the boy’s attempt at casting a spell had drained the last of his strength; Severus dodged the weak flash of spell-light as Potter stumbled to the door and fell against it, sliding down to the floor in a heap.
After disarming the boy, he cautiously approached.
“Going… to finish me off, Snape?” he had slurred.
“Be silent, you foolish child. What have you done to yourself?”
By then the idiotic Gryffindor was unconscious. Heaving a deep sigh, Severus levitated the slim form to the same bedroom Draco Malfoy had occupied. When Potter didn’t rouse after being deposited on the bed, Severus became worried. When he checked, the boy had a raging fever. He lifted the disturbingly light body and disrobed it, intending to spell him clean and apply an antipyretic charm. Removal of the boy’s robes, though, revealed that one side of his shirt and trousers were soaked with blood; Severus removed the shirt, only to find a bandage soaked through, covering a jagged, festering wound. The infection, along with the emaciated form had made his hardened heart twinge in sympathy.
“What have you gotten yourself into now, Potter?”
After cleaning the boy and treating his wound, Severus re-settled him on the bed, and made himself comfortable in the chair at the bedside to wait for his recovery.
The first sign of consciousness was a whispered, “Thank you.”
Potter seemed confused but grateful, and not at all aggressive.
“Is it not your plan to avenge the headmaster’s death?” Severus prodded.
“No, that’s not why I came here. I-I-When Dumbledore died, he left me a Pensieve and a letter,” Potter started. “Did you receive one, too?” When Severus nodded silently, he continued, “I ignored its message while I was looking for the Horcruxes, but now I’m down to the last one – Nagini. I know the spells to banish the bit of Tom’s soul that she contains, but I need help killing her first. And I have to be there, so that I can kill Tom before he can make any more Horcruxes. So I need someone to help me poison Nagini.” Here Potter stopped and gazed at Severus, asking the question only with his eyes.
“We can discuss the plan in more detail after you tell me how you came by the wound on your side. Dark magic was lingering in it, and it will likely scar; you came perilously close to losing your life.”
“Ravenclaw’s dagger. Its resting place was spelled so that there was a replica, and contact with either the replica or the true dagger triggered the other to fly to its defense. I just barely managed to avoid being impaled.”
“Ravenclaw’s dagger? You’ve destroyed it, then?”
Potter described the discovery and destruction of all the Horcruxes save Nagini and the Dark Lord himself. Listening attentively, Severus was impressed in spite of himself. Finally Potter mentioned that Granger had been convinced that Snape could and would help with Nagini, reminding him of Dumbledore’s final communication. Her urgings had brought the Boy Who Lived to his doorstep, and his illness had laid him low enough to allow them to communicate without their usual animosity getting in the way.
Together, with a great deal of bickering and not a few traded insults, they planned the death of Voldemort’s familiar and Voldemort himself. A few short weeks later, the Dark Lord had been vanquished, all charges against Severus dropped, and Potter had astounded the wizarding world by refusing the Ministry’s offer of an Aurorship pending completion of his NEWTs. Instead, the boy had vanished into the Bonham School for Medimagic with nary a word to the public.
Months passed. Severus went back to teaching Potions at Hogwarts; he had less interest in the Defense Against the Dark Arts than his detractors had always suspected, and with the curse lifted, Remus Lupin was able to resume teaching his specialty. If Severus occasionally wondered about the boy who had once been the bane of his existence, he never let on. Then one morning a snowy owl swooped into the Great Hall during breakfast and came to a stop in front of him. Conversation at the head table screeched to a halt; everyone there recognized Hedwig, and wanted to know why Harry Potter was corresponding with his hated ex-Potions master. Severus retrieved the letter from the bird’s grasp and fed her a strip of bacon, telling her there would be no immediate reply.
That evening, after his classes were finished, Severus opened the letter, which had his name scrawled in messy script on the envelope.
Obviously, Granger had again shown him the most feasible of his options. Severus pondered having Potter owe him, rather than the other way around, and decided to agree. Picking up his quill, he scrawled a note on the bottom of the parchment and sent his own owl, Galen, off with it.
That Saturday was the first of Potter’s true remedial potions classes. They had involved a great deal of sniping and several attempts at brewing that had been hazardous to both of their lives, including one that ended with an argument and a partially destroyed potions laboratory. Still, when Potter passed his end-of-year exams, Severus was sorry to see the end of the lessons. Potter, however, appeared the following Saturday with a bottle of scotch as a thank-you, and the transition from student and teacher to friends began.
*****
A snort from the bed brought Severus out of his musings. I ought to be appalled by his snoring and drooling on the pillow, but somehow even that isn’t as off-putting as it should be, he thought. Doffing his robe, he climbed back into bed and moved close to Harry, pressing against the cool skin. Automatically Harry shifted again, moving closer to the warmth aligned with him. He slid his left arm over Harry’s waist and pulled him more firmly backward, nuzzling behind Harry’s ear before suckling gently at his earlobe.
“Mmm.”
Harry woke gradually, enjoying the warmth; the movement of Severus’s hand from his waist to his hip and then to his groin brought him to full awareness. He bucked back, and Severus’s stirring cock was pressed into the crease of his arse, drawing a quiet moan. Harry’s head turned, his lips seeking, and Severus leaned over a bit to grant his wish. Kissing Harry gently, enjoying the rasp of stubble on skin, he continued his exploration, propping himself up on one elbow and using the other hand to palm Harry’s growing erection before drifting up the torso to tweak his nipples to hardness. Harry turned slightly, pressing his hips backwards as he twisted so that he could hook one arm around Severus, pulling him so that his head and upper body were hovering over his own. This left Severus’s torso and hips pressed to Harry’s back.
Never parting their lips for more than a breath, they continued the kiss, letting lips, tongue and teeth play while bodies rubbed and hands strayed. When Severus arranged them so that his cock could slide between Harry’s legs, pressing against his scrotum, Harry anchored one hand in Severus’s hair, pulling him back to his mouth; at the same time, his lower body moved in an imitation of sex, while Severus’s free hand continued stroking up and down Harry’s body. As his arousal built, Severus moved from gentle caresses of Harry’s torso, penis and balls to vigorously working the now turgid length in his fist. When his fingers moved again to the testicles and then the soft skin behind them, Harry lifted his leg, exposing himself. Severus whispered a spell and then his cool, oily fingers were there, circling and then penetrating. As soon as he thought Harry was ready, he ordered him to hold his leg up and was sliding in, right where he wanted to be.
For a long while their coupling was gentle, with just enough motion to keep both men stimulated, enjoying the closeness and arousal without urgency. Eventually Harry pushed backward, urging Snape to up the pace of his thrusts. When he angled his hips to brush Harry’s prostate with his movements, the leisurely lovemaking morphed into an urgent need for release. The clutch of Harry’s tight muscles around him and his groans of encouragement spurred Severus; in the end, to get purchase for the rough motion he needed, Severus rolled Harry onto his stomach. Straddling one leg, he moved faster and harder, fisting Harry’s hard cock and worrying his earlobe. When Severus felt Harry spasm around him and erupt onto his hand, he spiraled into his own release.
Severus remained where he was, sprawled across Harry’s back, catching his breath. When he finally moved, it was to shift his weight slightly and nuzzle the tender ear beneath his lips. Before completely withdrawing and moving, he whispered, “Happy birthday, Mr. Potter.”
“Definitely happy,” was Harry’s reply, in a contented hum.
After a quick clean-up, they breakfasted together, discussing the day’s plans. Harry was off-duty for the day, and, other than picking up a book he had ordered from Flourish and Blotts, had no specific plans until dinner. Molly Weasley had asked if he wanted a birthday party; when he demurred, she had offered to host a family birthday dinner. Harry and Severus had discussed it and decided that his birthday dinner would be their first outing as a couple. The Weasleys knew that they were friends – most of the Order did – but this would be their first semi-public appearance since becoming lovers.
Severus had agreed for a variety of reasons, but his main motivation was irritation over the speculation that had started after the Daily Prophet had published a picture of Harry and Hermione leaving St. Mungo’s together. They had been just steps behind Severus exiting the hospital on the morning after their splinching, but he had not appeared in the photo. Harry had been deluged with mail – Howlers, Screamers, and normal fan mail – applauding or decrying his apparent choice in mates. The Weasleys had been among those suspicious about their explanation, given Harry’s long friendship with the young woman they had always assumed would be marrying their youngest son. Severus’s appearance with Harry at this family gathering would allay their fears and stake his claim on their black-haired adopted son.
The only activity of note for the morning was the reception of birthday gifts from absent friends. Harry received a birthday letter from Remus - he was doing werewolf research in Rumania. Charlie Weasley sent his regards, and reminded Harry to tell his parents he would be home for Christmas. Along with a cheap trinket, Ron Weasley had written Harry, telling him that he was seeing someone new in Vienna and that he had only just sent a letter informing Hermione. The rest of the Weasley family and Hermione would bring their gifts to dinner.
Once that was taken care of and Harry’s book retrieved from Diagon Alley, Severus entertained them both by seducing Harry (not that it took a great deal of effort) in every public room of the house that struck his fancy. After interrupting them once, Dobby absented himself from the place for the duration.
*****
Dinner at the Burrow was uneventful – no pranks, no surprises, and no insults or odd looks at Harry and his date. Hermione arrived late, looking pale and nervous. She mentioned to Harry that she needed to speak with him, but that it could wait until later.
As always, gifts from the Weasleys included homemade sweets and a new Weasley jumper, and the twins had included a large package of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes good for Harry’s personal use. Hermione, as usual, gave Harry a book, this time on Muggle behavioral theory. Severus’s gift was the one he appreciated most, and not only because it came from his lover: it was a spelled journal for recording spells and other therapies he devised for healing.
After all the cake had been consumed and tea drunk, gift wrap collected and gifts stacked for transport, Harry kissed Molly’s cheek in thanks and headed home with Severus in tow. Hermione followed them to Grimmauld Place, since she hadn’t wanted to talk in front of Weasleys.
When they were settled in the sitting room, Harry opened his mouth, intending to console Hermione about Ron’s defection, but she spoke before he could.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
Utter silence greeted her announcement.
“I’m sorry, I thought you said you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I said.”
“How did that-”
“The usual way: we didn’t practice safe sex.”
“Forgive me for being crude, but I was under the impression that you and Mr. Weasley used some form of birth control. Why did you not inform us of this at the time?”
“We-I did, I took the Potion.”
When understanding dawned, Harry groaned in dismay. “It’s hormonal, time-released. It stops ovulation, but your ovaries were not in the body that had the hormones. They had enough time to ovulate, and for the egg to be fertilized, then it implanted.”
Hermione nodded miserably. The three of them sat there in silence for another period.
“You’re sure, or you think you’re pregnant?”
“I took a home test, and it was positive. I haven’t seen a mediwitch, but I have an appointment with a Muggle doctor tomorrow. I wanted to tell you, just in case, because if I am, it’s one of yours. You deserve to know and to be involved in any decisions.”
“Do you want one of us-” Pausing, Harry exchanged a glance with Severus before continuing, “-me to go with you?”
“No, not yet. But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to come back and discuss it afterwards. I mean, if there’s something to discuss. I mean-”
“Okay, we understand. We’ll be here.”
*****
“There’s no doubt I’m pregnant. About seven weeks along. But there is no way yet for the doctor to tell for certain the identity of the father. Ideally, I’d like to wait until the baby is born. That is… well, I realize we haven’t had a long time to think about it or discuss it, but I think I’d like to have it. Keep it, that is.” Hermione’s nervousness was obvious in her nearly babbling commentary.
Severus had no objection to this, in theory. He had never expected to have children of his own, so he had put the possibility out of his mind. Harry had never considered offspring; he’d always thought that he’d have children someday in the far-off future, but it had seemed less likely after he’d fallen for his Potions master.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to go to a mediwitch or Healer? I am not qualified in that specialty, and I’m personally involved anyway, but I’m sure there are magical methods that could reveal the fetus’s paternity.”
“Mainly I don’t want to go to a magical medical facility because I’m recognizable. Remember what happened after our last visit to St. Mungo’s? It would be a thousand times worse if someone knew I was seeing a Healer who specialized in birthing.”
Both men agreed that it was her decision, as long as she took proper care of herself, and they agreed that they would let her consider her options for a few days before making any further plans.
After Hermione left, Severus withdrew to the study. He was worried. If the baby were Harry’s, would he want to be with Hermione, to marry her and give the baby his name officially? Would he, Severus, be left alone? He didn’t think he could go back to the cool solitude and isolation of his dungeons and his potions. It had taken quite some time and effort to adjust to the presence of the rambunctious Gryffindor in his life, and he had done so almost without realizing it. But now he feared a return to ‘friend’ status, despised the idea of a return to the silent, undisturbed stillness that his life had been before Harry had insinuated himself into it.
Severus brooded on the topic for hours, and was in a foul mood when he went to bed alone. When Harry came to bed, he slid in and curled up behind him, pressing his cheek to Severus’s shoulder blade.
“It doesn’t matter what happens with Hermione or whose baby it is, Severus. I’m in love with you.”
Severus turned in Harry’s arms and wrapped him in a fierce, desperate embrace.
Chapter 2.
As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
Chapter: 1/5
Pairing: HP/SS, reference to past HP/SS/HG, HG/other in future
Warnings/Genre: smut, angst, romance, now HBP-compliant
Rating: NC17
Length: ~3500 words
Archived: Not yet, but will eventually make it to OWL and Ensnared. I'll link there when they are.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own these characters. If I did, as I've stated before, Snape would be busily seducing Harry instead of running off with Death Eaters.
Summary: Repercussions of the splinch-swap continue to be revealed.
The previous installments of this story are The Splinching of Severus Snape and The Morning After.
Thanks to
lilyeyes for her input on this installment. :)Long years of habit made it impossible for Severus to lie abed, inactive, once he had fully awakened. This morning, in particular, his plans had him in motion almost immediately after opening his eyes. Allowing himself only a brief moment to savor the warmth of the body at his side, he slid from the bed – their bed, now – and headed to the door, scooping his robe from the tangled pile of clothing on the floor and donning it before exiting the bedroom. Down the hall and down the stairs he went, heading to the kitchen, where he filled the kettle with water for tea and coffee. While it heated, he gathered the breakfast items he had requested from Dobby the night before, piling them onto a tray. After checking that the Everlasting Freshness Charm was working, he poured the water into the teapot and French press, levitated the tray and headed back upstairs.
Back in the bedroom, he let the tray come to rest on Harry’s bureau and stood for a long minute admiring his lover. Harry had kicked off the blankets in his restless movements. He lay half on his side, his face buried in his pillow, one knee crooked and fallen forward to the mattress, so that the expanse of his back was visible, the jagged scar that curved up his hip to the small of his back exposed.
The sight of that scar had Severus pausing, contemplating the role it had played in bringing them to their current situation.
*****
When he and Draco fled Hogwarts in the wake of Dumbledore’s death, Severus had hated no one as much as he hated Harry Potter. After showing Draco a guest bedroom, he had retreated to his Potions lab, where he had vented his rage and sorrow in a fury of broken glassware and spoilt ingredients. Exhausted, spent, he had dragged himself to his bedroom, only to find Fawkes awaiting him, a bottle of what looked like the swirling contents of a Pensieve gripped in his talons. The blasted bird wouldn’t leave him until he had emptied the memory into his Pensieve, and eyed him commandingly until Severus surrendered, leaning forward and immersing himself in the silvery stuff.
The memory was Dumbledore’s, of course; it consisted entirely of the old man’s own commentary, including his regrets and sorrow for not seeing what the circumstances of Severus’s youth had pushed him to do, and an apology for the acts he had forced Severus to commit in the name of the Order. The memory ended with the headmaster entreating him to help Potter on his path to adulthood, not simply as an ally against the Dark Lord, but as a human being. When he emerged from the Pensieve, Severus was bitterly amused that Albus’s last words, as his last thoughts on the Tower, had been about Potter.
He ignored his old friend’s final plea for several months, pushing it to the back of his mind until Potter arrived at Spinner’s End, close to collapse. Luckily, Draco had found a safe haven with his mother and departed, or the situation might have been grave indeed. Severus assumed that Potter, barely able to raise his wand, meant to disable or kill him, but the boy’s attempt at casting a spell had drained the last of his strength; Severus dodged the weak flash of spell-light as Potter stumbled to the door and fell against it, sliding down to the floor in a heap.
After disarming the boy, he cautiously approached.
“Going… to finish me off, Snape?” he had slurred.
“Be silent, you foolish child. What have you done to yourself?”
By then the idiotic Gryffindor was unconscious. Heaving a deep sigh, Severus levitated the slim form to the same bedroom Draco Malfoy had occupied. When Potter didn’t rouse after being deposited on the bed, Severus became worried. When he checked, the boy had a raging fever. He lifted the disturbingly light body and disrobed it, intending to spell him clean and apply an antipyretic charm. Removal of the boy’s robes, though, revealed that one side of his shirt and trousers were soaked with blood; Severus removed the shirt, only to find a bandage soaked through, covering a jagged, festering wound. The infection, along with the emaciated form had made his hardened heart twinge in sympathy.
“What have you gotten yourself into now, Potter?”
After cleaning the boy and treating his wound, Severus re-settled him on the bed, and made himself comfortable in the chair at the bedside to wait for his recovery.
The first sign of consciousness was a whispered, “Thank you.”
Potter seemed confused but grateful, and not at all aggressive.
“Is it not your plan to avenge the headmaster’s death?” Severus prodded.
“No, that’s not why I came here. I-I-When Dumbledore died, he left me a Pensieve and a letter,” Potter started. “Did you receive one, too?” When Severus nodded silently, he continued, “I ignored its message while I was looking for the Horcruxes, but now I’m down to the last one – Nagini. I know the spells to banish the bit of Tom’s soul that she contains, but I need help killing her first. And I have to be there, so that I can kill Tom before he can make any more Horcruxes. So I need someone to help me poison Nagini.” Here Potter stopped and gazed at Severus, asking the question only with his eyes.
“We can discuss the plan in more detail after you tell me how you came by the wound on your side. Dark magic was lingering in it, and it will likely scar; you came perilously close to losing your life.”
“Ravenclaw’s dagger. Its resting place was spelled so that there was a replica, and contact with either the replica or the true dagger triggered the other to fly to its defense. I just barely managed to avoid being impaled.”
“Ravenclaw’s dagger? You’ve destroyed it, then?”
Potter described the discovery and destruction of all the Horcruxes save Nagini and the Dark Lord himself. Listening attentively, Severus was impressed in spite of himself. Finally Potter mentioned that Granger had been convinced that Snape could and would help with Nagini, reminding him of Dumbledore’s final communication. Her urgings had brought the Boy Who Lived to his doorstep, and his illness had laid him low enough to allow them to communicate without their usual animosity getting in the way.
Together, with a great deal of bickering and not a few traded insults, they planned the death of Voldemort’s familiar and Voldemort himself. A few short weeks later, the Dark Lord had been vanquished, all charges against Severus dropped, and Potter had astounded the wizarding world by refusing the Ministry’s offer of an Aurorship pending completion of his NEWTs. Instead, the boy had vanished into the Bonham School for Medimagic with nary a word to the public.
Months passed. Severus went back to teaching Potions at Hogwarts; he had less interest in the Defense Against the Dark Arts than his detractors had always suspected, and with the curse lifted, Remus Lupin was able to resume teaching his specialty. If Severus occasionally wondered about the boy who had once been the bane of his existence, he never let on. Then one morning a snowy owl swooped into the Great Hall during breakfast and came to a stop in front of him. Conversation at the head table screeched to a halt; everyone there recognized Hedwig, and wanted to know why Harry Potter was corresponding with his hated ex-Potions master. Severus retrieved the letter from the bird’s grasp and fed her a strip of bacon, telling her there would be no immediate reply.
That evening, after his classes were finished, Severus opened the letter, which had his name scrawled in messy script on the envelope.
Snape,
I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m studying healing. A significant part of my first-year grade depends on Potions knowledge, and I was unfortunately unable to complete that course during my abbreviated final year at Hogwarts. Would you be willing to help me catch up on any information or brewing that I missed during my quest to destroy Voldemort and the Horcruxes? I’d be willing to compensate you for your time.
HP
Obviously, Granger had again shown him the most feasible of his options. Severus pondered having Potter owe him, rather than the other way around, and decided to agree. Picking up his quill, he scrawled a note on the bottom of the parchment and sent his own owl, Galen, off with it.
That Saturday was the first of Potter’s true remedial potions classes. They had involved a great deal of sniping and several attempts at brewing that had been hazardous to both of their lives, including one that ended with an argument and a partially destroyed potions laboratory. Still, when Potter passed his end-of-year exams, Severus was sorry to see the end of the lessons. Potter, however, appeared the following Saturday with a bottle of scotch as a thank-you, and the transition from student and teacher to friends began.
*****
A snort from the bed brought Severus out of his musings. I ought to be appalled by his snoring and drooling on the pillow, but somehow even that isn’t as off-putting as it should be, he thought. Doffing his robe, he climbed back into bed and moved close to Harry, pressing against the cool skin. Automatically Harry shifted again, moving closer to the warmth aligned with him. He slid his left arm over Harry’s waist and pulled him more firmly backward, nuzzling behind Harry’s ear before suckling gently at his earlobe.
“Mmm.”
Harry woke gradually, enjoying the warmth; the movement of Severus’s hand from his waist to his hip and then to his groin brought him to full awareness. He bucked back, and Severus’s stirring cock was pressed into the crease of his arse, drawing a quiet moan. Harry’s head turned, his lips seeking, and Severus leaned over a bit to grant his wish. Kissing Harry gently, enjoying the rasp of stubble on skin, he continued his exploration, propping himself up on one elbow and using the other hand to palm Harry’s growing erection before drifting up the torso to tweak his nipples to hardness. Harry turned slightly, pressing his hips backwards as he twisted so that he could hook one arm around Severus, pulling him so that his head and upper body were hovering over his own. This left Severus’s torso and hips pressed to Harry’s back.
Never parting their lips for more than a breath, they continued the kiss, letting lips, tongue and teeth play while bodies rubbed and hands strayed. When Severus arranged them so that his cock could slide between Harry’s legs, pressing against his scrotum, Harry anchored one hand in Severus’s hair, pulling him back to his mouth; at the same time, his lower body moved in an imitation of sex, while Severus’s free hand continued stroking up and down Harry’s body. As his arousal built, Severus moved from gentle caresses of Harry’s torso, penis and balls to vigorously working the now turgid length in his fist. When his fingers moved again to the testicles and then the soft skin behind them, Harry lifted his leg, exposing himself. Severus whispered a spell and then his cool, oily fingers were there, circling and then penetrating. As soon as he thought Harry was ready, he ordered him to hold his leg up and was sliding in, right where he wanted to be.
For a long while their coupling was gentle, with just enough motion to keep both men stimulated, enjoying the closeness and arousal without urgency. Eventually Harry pushed backward, urging Snape to up the pace of his thrusts. When he angled his hips to brush Harry’s prostate with his movements, the leisurely lovemaking morphed into an urgent need for release. The clutch of Harry’s tight muscles around him and his groans of encouragement spurred Severus; in the end, to get purchase for the rough motion he needed, Severus rolled Harry onto his stomach. Straddling one leg, he moved faster and harder, fisting Harry’s hard cock and worrying his earlobe. When Severus felt Harry spasm around him and erupt onto his hand, he spiraled into his own release.
Severus remained where he was, sprawled across Harry’s back, catching his breath. When he finally moved, it was to shift his weight slightly and nuzzle the tender ear beneath his lips. Before completely withdrawing and moving, he whispered, “Happy birthday, Mr. Potter.”
“Definitely happy,” was Harry’s reply, in a contented hum.
After a quick clean-up, they breakfasted together, discussing the day’s plans. Harry was off-duty for the day, and, other than picking up a book he had ordered from Flourish and Blotts, had no specific plans until dinner. Molly Weasley had asked if he wanted a birthday party; when he demurred, she had offered to host a family birthday dinner. Harry and Severus had discussed it and decided that his birthday dinner would be their first outing as a couple. The Weasleys knew that they were friends – most of the Order did – but this would be their first semi-public appearance since becoming lovers.
Severus had agreed for a variety of reasons, but his main motivation was irritation over the speculation that had started after the Daily Prophet had published a picture of Harry and Hermione leaving St. Mungo’s together. They had been just steps behind Severus exiting the hospital on the morning after their splinching, but he had not appeared in the photo. Harry had been deluged with mail – Howlers, Screamers, and normal fan mail – applauding or decrying his apparent choice in mates. The Weasleys had been among those suspicious about their explanation, given Harry’s long friendship with the young woman they had always assumed would be marrying their youngest son. Severus’s appearance with Harry at this family gathering would allay their fears and stake his claim on their black-haired adopted son.
The only activity of note for the morning was the reception of birthday gifts from absent friends. Harry received a birthday letter from Remus - he was doing werewolf research in Rumania. Charlie Weasley sent his regards, and reminded Harry to tell his parents he would be home for Christmas. Along with a cheap trinket, Ron Weasley had written Harry, telling him that he was seeing someone new in Vienna and that he had only just sent a letter informing Hermione. The rest of the Weasley family and Hermione would bring their gifts to dinner.
Once that was taken care of and Harry’s book retrieved from Diagon Alley, Severus entertained them both by seducing Harry (not that it took a great deal of effort) in every public room of the house that struck his fancy. After interrupting them once, Dobby absented himself from the place for the duration.
*****
Dinner at the Burrow was uneventful – no pranks, no surprises, and no insults or odd looks at Harry and his date. Hermione arrived late, looking pale and nervous. She mentioned to Harry that she needed to speak with him, but that it could wait until later.
As always, gifts from the Weasleys included homemade sweets and a new Weasley jumper, and the twins had included a large package of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes good for Harry’s personal use. Hermione, as usual, gave Harry a book, this time on Muggle behavioral theory. Severus’s gift was the one he appreciated most, and not only because it came from his lover: it was a spelled journal for recording spells and other therapies he devised for healing.
After all the cake had been consumed and tea drunk, gift wrap collected and gifts stacked for transport, Harry kissed Molly’s cheek in thanks and headed home with Severus in tow. Hermione followed them to Grimmauld Place, since she hadn’t wanted to talk in front of Weasleys.
When they were settled in the sitting room, Harry opened his mouth, intending to console Hermione about Ron’s defection, but she spoke before he could.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
Utter silence greeted her announcement.
“I’m sorry, I thought you said you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I said.”
“How did that-”
“The usual way: we didn’t practice safe sex.”
“Forgive me for being crude, but I was under the impression that you and Mr. Weasley used some form of birth control. Why did you not inform us of this at the time?”
“We-I did, I took the Potion.”
When understanding dawned, Harry groaned in dismay. “It’s hormonal, time-released. It stops ovulation, but your ovaries were not in the body that had the hormones. They had enough time to ovulate, and for the egg to be fertilized, then it implanted.”
Hermione nodded miserably. The three of them sat there in silence for another period.
“You’re sure, or you think you’re pregnant?”
“I took a home test, and it was positive. I haven’t seen a mediwitch, but I have an appointment with a Muggle doctor tomorrow. I wanted to tell you, just in case, because if I am, it’s one of yours. You deserve to know and to be involved in any decisions.”
“Do you want one of us-” Pausing, Harry exchanged a glance with Severus before continuing, “-me to go with you?”
“No, not yet. But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to come back and discuss it afterwards. I mean, if there’s something to discuss. I mean-”
“Okay, we understand. We’ll be here.”
*****
“There’s no doubt I’m pregnant. About seven weeks along. But there is no way yet for the doctor to tell for certain the identity of the father. Ideally, I’d like to wait until the baby is born. That is… well, I realize we haven’t had a long time to think about it or discuss it, but I think I’d like to have it. Keep it, that is.” Hermione’s nervousness was obvious in her nearly babbling commentary.
Severus had no objection to this, in theory. He had never expected to have children of his own, so he had put the possibility out of his mind. Harry had never considered offspring; he’d always thought that he’d have children someday in the far-off future, but it had seemed less likely after he’d fallen for his Potions master.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to go to a mediwitch or Healer? I am not qualified in that specialty, and I’m personally involved anyway, but I’m sure there are magical methods that could reveal the fetus’s paternity.”
“Mainly I don’t want to go to a magical medical facility because I’m recognizable. Remember what happened after our last visit to St. Mungo’s? It would be a thousand times worse if someone knew I was seeing a Healer who specialized in birthing.”
Both men agreed that it was her decision, as long as she took proper care of herself, and they agreed that they would let her consider her options for a few days before making any further plans.
After Hermione left, Severus withdrew to the study. He was worried. If the baby were Harry’s, would he want to be with Hermione, to marry her and give the baby his name officially? Would he, Severus, be left alone? He didn’t think he could go back to the cool solitude and isolation of his dungeons and his potions. It had taken quite some time and effort to adjust to the presence of the rambunctious Gryffindor in his life, and he had done so almost without realizing it. But now he feared a return to ‘friend’ status, despised the idea of a return to the silent, undisturbed stillness that his life had been before Harry had insinuated himself into it.
Severus brooded on the topic for hours, and was in a foul mood when he went to bed alone. When Harry came to bed, he slid in and curled up behind him, pressing his cheek to Severus’s shoulder blade.
“It doesn’t matter what happens with Hermione or whose baby it is, Severus. I’m in love with you.”
Severus turned in Harry’s arms and wrapped him in a fierce, desperate embrace.
Chapter 2.
As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-26 11:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 12:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 08:36 am (UTC)Just a bit of concrit: you don't need to write down "flashback" and "back to present", just use the row of asterisks. Your writing is good enough that what's going on is clear.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 01:02 pm (UTC)Mione getting pregnant...
I'm currious to see how this all plays out..
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 09:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-28 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-28 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-31 04:11 am (UTC)