Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: torino10154From: entrenous88Title:
That Damnable Cursed MistletoeCharacters/Pairings:
Severus Snape/Harry PotterRating:
Following the request, "Half-dressed, urgent sex with lots of snogging"Other Warnings:
Semi-public sexWord Count:
Severus Snape usually avoids holiday parties. But this season, he's found a compelling reason to frequent them.Author's Notes:
Many thanks to the KK/DD mods for their excellent work running this fest. To my recipient, I hope you like how your prompt "mistletoe" ended up shaping the story.
"Professor Snape," a voice called behind him.
Severus stifled a sigh and turned. Bad enough he had been compelled to attend this holiday party, but now it appeared another guest would forcibly require him to participate in the exchanging of inane pleasantries.
Of course he hadn't meant to put himself in the way of any social encounter that night, much less attend a party. But whilst purchasing books in Diagon Alley earlier in the day he had been confronted by a former student, a Ravenclaw, one Terry Boot. Boot had insisted on shaking his hand vigorously, all the while explaining he simply knew
Professor Snape must have worked for the side of right through everything despite every outward indication to the contrary. Severus had some recollection of Boot's neatly written essays and precise work in Potions, and so at first tolerated the attention with vague replies and nods.
After some time of having his hand wrung and his ear bent on the topic of Boot's recent accomplishments, though, he began to seek a means of escape. When Boot pressed the invitation for his party that evening upon him, Severus had taken it as a welcome method of putting him off and returning to his perusal of texts.
Then as it happened, one of the books he returned home with had been most engrossing. He began it as soon as he had set himself up in his armchair with a mug of milky tea cooling on the side table, and continued reading it throughout the afternoon, until the winter's light faded and the sky grew dark outside his window.
Upon turning to a most enlightening diagram in the eighth chapter, however, his stomach had protested further reading without sustenance of some sort. Unfortunately his cupboard held nothing in the way of a proper supper. As he prepared to leave his flat in an ill-temper to seek out the makings of dinner, his eye fell upon the invitation he had carelessly cast upon the counter. The party was meant to start in thirty minutes hence.
He would arrive early, he decided as he pulled on his cloak, spend a few moments tolerating Boot's no doubt fervent exclamations over his arrival, partake of whatever starters or buffet items were on offer, and then slip away as soon as enough people had turned up to cover his escape.
Initially his plan seemed to go well. He arrived on the scene before anyone else. Boot had a fiancée, a determined young woman Severus did not recognize, who seemed hell bent on playing the good hostess. As it meant her plying Severus with food and drink and not even allowing Boot to extol Severus's accomplishments at length until Severus had eaten, Severus was all for it.
When the doorbell rang announcing another's arrival, Severus took the opportunity to slip into a side room. Once he was finished eating, he planned to listen to make certain there were enough party-goers chattering and bustling about so that his exit would go unnoticed. Then he would sneak out, home to the book awaiting him, and congratulate himself on managing the evening to its greatest advantage.
But of course, one of the attendees had stumbled upon him, and now he would have to make conversation, or at the very least to snap and snarl until the invader, offended, would back off enough for him to depart.
"Potter," he said when he turned, concealing his surprise. For it was Harry Potter who had called his name, and now stood before him, looking nervous and oddly fetching in his holiday jumper.
"Professor," Potter repeated. "You really came. Terry said you would be here, but I didn't think -- how are you?"
This time Severus allowed his aggravation to show. "We're not really going to stand here and exchange inanities, are we, Potter?"
Potter looked faintly irritated. "No, considering it's you, I suppose not, but --"
There was a woman's laugh just outside the room, and they both froze. Oddly it seemed Potter was even less keen than Severus that someone else might come upon this out of the way location.
"You haven't answered any of my owls," Potter said at last when the woman and her companion had clearly moved on. "Nor the letters I sent you in the Muggle post."
"One might imagine from that I do not wish to communicate with you," Severus suggested helpfully.
"Sorry, I can't allow that," Potter returned. His face took on a stubborn expression.
"I beg your pardon, but it can't have escaped your notice that communication requires the participation of both parties. I do not wish to take part, ergo
, you have no say in allowing my exemption or not."
"If you would just listen for a moment," Potter fumed. "It's not pleasantries, or inanities, or anything like that. I've just been thinking a lot about all you've done for me, and I wanted --"
Severus steeled himself for whatever would come next, be it apology or diatribe or cow-eyed sentimentality. He was prepared for nearly any and all of it from Potter, who had been most emotional about Severus's unexpected recovery from Nagini's bite and his exoneration by the Wizengamot.
He was unprepared, however, for Potter looking up, just beyond Severus's head, and getting the oddest expression on his face.
He was completely
unprepared for Potter lunging forward at him, grasping his face in both hands, and kissing his lips.
"What --" Severus attempted to sputter. But the word and movement of his mouth only mashed against Potter's mouth, and somehow they were, ridiculously enough, snogging. Severus's hands went to the small of Potter's back, clutching him and pulling him forward while Potter kept one hand cupping his jaw and the other squeezing Severus's shoulder as he moved surprisingly soft full lips against his.
"What on earth--" Severus exclaimed as soon as he was able to take hold of his senses and pull away.
Potter said nothing, just touched his swollen lips and looked at Severus with wide green eyes, his pupils dilated, his hair standing wildly on end. He looked half-mad, passionate, and confused.
He looked, in short, as though he had been Confunded.
"Who have you spoken to since you entered this dwelling?" Severus asked him harshly.
"Er, no one? Just Terry, and you. Oh, and Terry's fiancée. She mentioned you were in here, so I came in to say 'Hallo,' and now, erm..." Potter gave a nervous bark of a laugh. "Here we are."
He looked to Severus as though readying himself to lunge forward again. And frankly, remembering how Potter could move his lips around and the skilled way he had of thrusting forth his tongue, Severus was half-inclined -- but no, this was a serious situation. Confunding Harry Potter, at a holiday party -- who would do such a thing? And why?
Potter licked his kiss-bruised lips as he swayed forward. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to think clearly. The action brought his gaze up slightly, and he stared, mouth agape, at what he saw just behind and above him.
"Was this here the entire time?"
"Well, yes," Potter answered, looking at him doubtfully. "I saw it before we --" He shook his head and rushed on, "Listen, I don't know what I was thinking, just snogging you like that without really saying anything first or even asking--"
"Obviously you have been Confunded or Hexed to act in such a way."
Potter's jaw dropped.
"And I believe I have found the culprit, as it were." Severus snatched down the offending branch of mistletoe from where someone had affixed it to the ceiling above them. "I shall be taking my leave now, Potter. Make no mistake, I will determine what has caused you to behave in this way."
"Hang on," Potter began, but Severus departed in a swirl of indignation and black robes. There was no time to chatter when a serious matter such as this was at hand. *****
It was at Kingsley Shacklebolt's holiday cocktail party that Severus Snape again found himself in a small side room, in a clinch with Harry Potter.
They were kissing, gasping for air as Severus reached down to grope Potter's very firm arse, as Potter moaned and began to grind his pelvis against Severus's thigh.
"Wait, wait," Severus panted, giving Potter a shove back.
Potter stumbled slightly, looking very confused. It only solidified Severus's theory, that Potter had been somehow Confunded. For what possible reason could the lad have to keep attacking him with these storms of heated kisses and breathy sighs?
For this session was not merely the second instance of such behavior; oh, no. It had happened at the Weasley's present exchange, at the Ministry's reception and toy drive for orphans, at Boot's party, of course, and lastly at the pub Oliver Wood's uncle owned, where Severus happened to stop in for a pint while Harry was celebrating the holiday with some friends. The back corridor by the gents' wasn't the most convenient place to kiss and rut against each other, but they had managed it.
Every single place they kissed and groped held one and sometimes multiple sprigs of that blasted plant. Everything in Severus's knowledge of Herbology and Potions went against his recent thinking on the parasite (he had not only studied mistletoe in both fields but had prepared a paper on the efficacy of its use in brewing). But he increasingly believed someone had illicitly created and imported a large portion of a unique strain simply for the purpose of taking their revenge on Harry Potter in this peculiar manner. This foreign variety somehow concealed Confunding spells (or similarly-functioning hexes) in the most devious of camouflaging devices. How else could all of Severus's thorough tests reveal absolutely nothing?
Tonight's assignation began much the same way as the others had. Severus had slipped into the curtained alcove in Kingsley's flat so as to avoid the jabbering of a bore who wished to tell him every gift he had purchased for his unmanageable and sticky brood. And once again, some fiend had affixed a sprig of mistletoe to a set-apart area, which was obviously created for such a rendezvous.
While Severus was standing there, shaking his head at the persistence of the villains involved, Harry Potter parted the curtains and stepped inside with him.
Without exchanging so much as a greeting, Potter rushed to shove him against the wall and very nearly climbed up him. The precarious position compelled Severus to exchange their places so Potter, his legs now wrapped around Severus, was the one with his back to the wall, and Severus the one obscuring Potter's wild look and very hard cock outlined against his denim trousers from the view of anyone foolish enough to disturb them.
"I will find what is causing this," Severus assured Potter as he shoved a hand down the back of Potter's trousers so he could stroke and clutch the warm soft skin there.
"Right, find the cause," Potter muttered, his hips jerking forward as Severus slipped a hand beneath his under shirt and rubbed his chest. Potter gasped, heady sharp little intakes of breath as Severus found and caressed his nipples, flicking his thumbs across the nubs.
"All the samples of mistletoe I have collected and tested have revealed nothing," Severus panted. He bit Potter's neck. "But make no mistake; I will
discover what has bewitched you."
"Yeah, you do that, oh fuck," Potter moaned in his ear, "I'm nearly --" And then he let out the most delicious sounding moan, throwing his head back and hitting it against the wall as his slim back arched. Severus took advantage of the position to continue mouthing and biting his way up the tantalizing column of Potter's neck, relishing the helpless noises Potter made.
Potter somehow managed to stave off his release, so Severus dug his fingers into Potter's lovely arse. With a quivering breath, he slipped one in between those lovely rounded cheeks to rub against the tiny opening.
Potter's eyes rolled back, and he let out a desperate sound, rubbing himself in jerking motions against Severus's hard cock. "Come on," Potter panted, "Want you to, oh fuck, please, Severus
Severus muffled his own moan against Potter's eager parted lips, sucking on Potter's tongue and claiming his mouth until Potter shuddered in a kind of frenzy against him. Severus soon followed, riding against Potter's fit body as the spasms worked through him.
They stood, putting themselves to rights: straightening clothes, casting hasty cleaning spells, smoothing down hair, and tucking in shirts.
Severus cleared his throat.
"You could, you know," Potter said shyly. "I mean, I want you to." His cheeks flared with heat as he reached out and took Severus's hand. "I want you to fuck me."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "And now..." He reached out to snap down this most recent sample of mistletoe.
"Oh, come on, not that again," Potter said, clearly aggrieved.
"You'll thank me when I determine the source of all of this," Severus told him. He withdrew his hand into his robes, depositing the sprig in a hidden pocket for safe-keeping.
"You can't still think that's what's causing all this," Potter shot back, his voice rising. "Did you never entertain another possibility? Haven't you wondered why all your spells and tests and potions and everything haven't revealed a damn thing?"
"There is certainly no other possibility," Severus replied sharply. "Now if you'll excuse me --"
excuse?" Potter called after him. "So you think I'm cursed or hexed or some such thing; what's been done to you to make you behave this way?"
Severus stopped and snorted. "I am under no spell."
"Then you must want it." Potter was breathing heavily. He gathered Severus's robes in his fists and yanked him close. "You must like it, what we do, what we've been doing every night in the past few weeks whenever we see each other, or you wouldn't keep on --"
"Of course I like it!" Severus snapped back. "What idiot wouldn't take advantage of a willing, ridiculously handsome, and physically delectable wizard such as you under such circumstances?"
Potter stared at him, his expression a combination of disbelief and amusement. "Listen, Severus," he began. His lips twitched.
"This is no joke," Severus warned him.
"No, it isn't," Potter said, suddenly sober. "Look, I fancy you. I have done for some time. Why did you think I was always trying to see you, constantly sending you owls? After all you've done for me, and after I had the chance to get to know you as things settled -- well, I couldn't help myself. None of that had anything to do with a Confundus charm or mistletoe."
"Your attempts to badger me did begin before this round of holiday fetes," Severus admitted reluctantly. "Nonetheless --"
"No," Potter said firmly. "I wanted you then, and I want you now
. And nothing, no spell, no enchanted plant, is at the root of it."
Severus frowned. "It seems most unbelievable. No amount of theorizing or testing would support such a conclusion."
"Believe it." Potter -- well, he supposed it would have to be Harry
now -- Harry cupped his cheek and kissed him passionately.
"Should your claim withstand competing possibilities, the need to attend any more of these tiresome gatherings would disappear," Severus whispered when Harry drew back slightly.
"Right. We could spend the rest of the hols in bed instead," Harry offered. Then he grinned.
"What are you so happy about?" Severus half-snarled. The truth was, he felt a surge of fierce joy welling up inside as well.
"You came to all those parties just to see me?" Harry asked.
"You understand, at the time I thought you were under a terrible curse," Severus pointed out.
"Ah, of course." Harry's grin only got wider.
"No one likes a smug braggart, Harry."
"You obviously do."
"You need to be put in your place."
"Let's go to your
place and you can take care of that."
And so they did.
And really, it was one of the more tolerable holiday seasons Severus Snape had ever experienced.*~* the end *~*