Title: Serpentine Satisfaction
Author: alisanne
Characters: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: creature!sex
Themes/kinks chosen: Xenophilia (a sexual attraction to the exotic, strangers, or the unknown)
Word Count: 2950
Summary: Harry finds his calling.
Author's notes: Thank you to the usual suspects, sevfan and eeyore9990, for the use of their sharp, beta-reading eyes, and to sassy_cissa for title assistance.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.


~

Serpentine Satisfaction

~

For months after he had killed Voldemort, Harry found it difficult to accept that the battle that had consumed the majority of his life was over, that he’d actually done it.

His friends all rallied around him, keeping Skeeter and the rest of the press away from him. Minerva McGonagall had assumed Dumbledore’s former role, blocking the Ministry’s access to him, protecting him from the almost constant invitations to speak at various Ministry sanctioned functions.

Harry stayed at Hogwarts, even once it had closed for renovations, and while all his friends had invited him to stay with them in their homes, he remained at school, much to Ginny’s chagrin.

Hogwarts, Harry decided, was as close to home as anywhere, really. Plus, for the first time in his life, Harry found he could be on his own without looking over his shoulder at every turn.

His schedule settled into a pattern. After spending the day helping with the castle renovations, Harry would go down to the Great Hall for dinner, then over to the infirmary to check on Snape.

To everyone’s shock, Snape had actually survived Nagini’s attack, and when Harry had dragged Madam Pomfrey back to show her the body, she’d taken one look and shrieked, frantically beginning to work on what Harry had assumed was Snape’s corpse.

As it turned out, Snape had been alive. Barely, but enough for Pomfrey to transport to the infirmary and save.

Fortunately, Dumbledore had left evidence exonerating him, and that, combined with Harry’s own testimony, had encouraged the Minister to quickly issue a full pardon and grant Snape a generous stipend for ‘service to the wizarding world’.

Snape had woken up after several days of enforced magical sleep, and the first thing he’d wanted was to know if Voldemort had been defeated. Upon being informed of Harry’s victory, Snape had reportedly smiled.

Not that Snape ever smiled at Harry, even now. Harry visited him daily, but every time Snape saw him coming he simply snorted and closed his eyes and nothing Harry said made him open them.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was bothering to visit the dour man, but something about Snape just...called to him. So, he would sit there, sometimes in silence but more often he would talk, telling Snape about his day, about his thoughts and feelings, and although Snape never responded, Harry could tell he was absorbing it all.

It took a while, but soon Harry came to the conclusion that Snape was actually...attractive, and now that Harry could spend long minutes staring at the man, uninterrupted by sarcastic remarks, his attributes became more obvious. His sleek hair, white skin, trim frame...everything about Snape appealed to Harry, and it was over this time that Harry finally accepted that he was never going to be interested in girls.

About three months after the final battle, Harry received an owl from Molly Weasley, informing him that she would be visiting him at Hogwarts ‘to talk’. At least she made it clear she would be coming without Ginny, for which he was grateful.

On that day, she met with him in the headmistress’ office, and Harry squirmed as the rows of headmaster portraits stared down at them and shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Don’t you think it’s time you did the right thing, Harry, dear?” Molly finally asked, once the niceties, like tea and biscuits, had been dispensed with.

“Um,” Harry said, having not the slightest clue what she was talking about.

“You and Ginny,” she continued. “Why are you punishing yourself like this by staying away?”

Personally, Harry had been having his best summer ever. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs--”

Molly waved her hand. “Oh, Harry. You can call me Mum. After all, we both know you’ll be in the family eventually.” She leaned forward. “Best make it sooner rather than later, though, dear. That Neville has been hanging about a lot. You don’t want Ginny thinking you’re not interested.”

He didn’t? Harry smiled politely. “Neville’s brilliant.”

Molly blinked. “That’s very...generous of you, but--”

“And he’s even more of a hero than I am,” Harry continued, trying not to grin as the portrait of Dumbledore hanging behind Molly winked and gave him a thumbs up. “And I understand he and Ginny formed quite a close bond this past year while I was off hunting for Voldemort.”

“Yes, but you’re the one she really--”

Harry stuffed another biscuit in his mouth before standing up. “Thanks so much for coming to see me, Mrs, er, M...Molly, but I have to go now. I promised Hagrid that I’d help him to repair his hut today. Tell Ginny and Neville I said hello. Oh, and I’ll owl Ron soon.” He left her standing there, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Skipping down the stairs, Harry hurried to Hagrid’s just in case Molly was watching him. He wouldn’t put it past her to be sure he was going where he said he was.

Hagrid, as always, was thrilled to see him, and Harry spent an hour helping him dig his garden before returning to the castle for supper. After racing through his meal and ducking the inquiring looks the headmistress kept sending his way, Harry got up and went to the infirmary, breathing a little more easily once he arrived.

Snape’s eyes were closed, as they always were, his breathing slow and measured, yet Harry knew he was awake. “It’s me,” he announced, slipping into the chair next to Snape’s bed.

Snape’s mouth twisted, but he said nothing.

Harry grinned. “I can tell you’re awake, you know.” There was no response and, shaking his head, he settled back into his chair. “Mrs. Weasley came to see me today,” he began, and slowly, he told Snape all about the visit, and about the things she had said. “She seems to think that I want to marry Ginny and I just can’t--”

There was a hiss and Harry paused. “Snape?”

Snape’s eyes were open but he didn’t say a word, he simply stared at Harry.

“Hullo.” Harry leaned forward. “Nice to see you awake, sir.”

One eyebrow arched, but Snape remained silent.

Harry’s gaze darted to the bulky bandaged around Snape’s neck. “Can you talk or--?”

Snape’s eyelids fluttered, an apparent prelude to his closing his eyes again, and Harry panicked. “No, wait! I just want to tell you--” Reaching out, Harry clasped Snape’s arm, and gasped. “Oh my God.”

Snape’s skin felt rough and as Harry looked more closely at it, it shimmered. “What’s wrong with your skin? What happened to you?” His finger traced what felt like scales instead of normal skin. “Should I get Madam Pomfrey?”

“That’sss not neccessssary. It isss a Glamour,” Snape hissed, the words sounding odd, distorted. “Poppy’sss idea.”

Harry blinked as what he was hearing clicked. “Merlin! That’s...you’re speaking Parseltongue. How?”

Snape made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a hissing snort and, sitting up, he glared at Harry. “You have alwaysss been too inquisssitive for your own good.”

“What’s happened to you?” Harry whispered.

Rolling his eyes, Snape reached for his wand and, waving it, sat back and watched Harry, eyes glittering with amusement as Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock.

With the Glamour removed, Snape looked like a man-sized, man-shaped snake. Everything above his neck looked as it had previously, but below... Snape’s body was covered with iridescent scales that seemed to glow in the candlelight. He looked...beautiful. A stab of lust swirled in his belly, and Harry swallowed hard. “What happened to you?”

“Asss I underssstand it, a sssnake bit me,” Snape said, somehow managing a dry tone in Parseltongue. “I’m told you witnessssed the event?”

Harry nodded. “I was watching from a hidden spot.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to save you--”

“But you did sssave me, Potter.” Snape reminded him. “You returned with Poppy and when ssshe sssaw I wasss not dead, ssshe sssaved me. You could have left me there asss revenge.”

“No one deserved to die like that, not even--” Harry paused, cringing.

“Not even ssssomeone like me?” Snape seemed amused. “Ah, but asss far asss you knew, I wasss your enemy asss well asss your mossst hated teacher.”

“No, I know that’s not true now. You gave me your memories--”

“Which were calculated to ssshow you what I wanted you to sssee.” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you ssstill touching me?”

“Oh!” Blushing, Harry realised he had still been stroking Snape’s arm and he pulled back, almost moaning at the loss of contact. “It felt...nice. Sorry.”

“You enjoyed ssstroking me?” Snape looked surprised for a moment.

“Er--” Not sure what to say, Harry decided to change the subject. “So why are you speaking Parseltongue?”

“It isss my underssstanding that the sssnake’sss venom hasss inflitrated my entire sssytem, including my vocal chordsss, thusss Poppy thinksss that it makesss me ssspeak only sssnake language.” Snape shrugged. “I mussst admit that it isss...a novelty to be able to ssspeak directly with someone again.”

God he’s sexy! Harry fisted the sheets to prevent himself from touching Snape again. “So, um, how are you communicating with Madam Pomfrey, then?”

Snape gestured towards a notepad and quill on the side table. It was covered with spidery handwriting. “Very ssslowly.”

Harry grinned, mind racing. “Maybe I can be your interpreter.”

“Ridiculoussss.”

“No, really,” Harry continued, warming to the idea. “That way you won’t have to write everything down, and you can communicate almost immediately with people.” And I can be with you.

“Why would you do sssuch a thing?”

“Because it would help you.” Harry smiled. “And I owe you.”

It was clearly the wrong thing to say. “Ssstupid child! You owe me nothing.”

“You saved my life a bunch of times,” Harry insisted. “The least I can do is serve as your interpreter. It’ll be fun.”

“You are ssslated to become an Auror,” Snape reminded him. “I ssshall not make you give up your dreamsss.”

Harry shrugged. “That was never my dream; it was Ron’s and Ginny’s, really. I’m not sure what I want to do now that Voldemort is dead. Being your interpreter sounds as good as anything.” He sighed. It sounded brilliant, actually.

“Isss Misss Weasssley not your intended?” Snape’s eyes were glittering strangely.

“Nope.” Harry sighed. “Not my type. I learned a few things about myself in the past few months, sir, one of which is I’m not that fond of girls as more than just friends.”

“I...sssee.” Snape seemed nonplussed, and Harry’s face fell.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” he whispered, miserable. His hand, which had been next to Snape’s, inched away.

Snape grabbed his hand before he could move it further. “I am hardly one to...criticissse your orientation asss I am...sssimilar.”

“You--?” Harry’s head popped up and his eyes widened. “You mean you’re--?” A slow smile broke over Harry’s face. “Brilliant!”

“Perhapsss.” Snape released Harry’s hand, but Harry simply clasped Snape’s arm, making him stare hard at Harry. “What isss the meaning of thisss?”

“Hey, if I’m to be your interpreter, I should get to know you, don’t you think?” Harry asked, licking his lips. “Only makes sense. And since we’re both, um, similar, maybe we could--?”

“Absssolutely n-- Potter!” Snape sounded outraged as Harry climbed up onto the bed and straddled him. “You are my ssstudent!”

“Not any more,” Harry said, fingers plucking at the medical robes that were tied onto Snape’s body. “I’ve finished school. Now I’m looking for a job.” He grinned. “Just think of this as my...job application.”

Snape made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a groan, and Harry smiled, hoping he would hear many more such sounds soon. His fingers finally managed to undo the lacings on Snape’s robes to reveal the body beneath and, when he was bared to Harry’s eyes, he drew in a deep breath. Snape was even more exotic than Harry had imagined. Another wave of pure lust washed over him.

“Ssscared, Potter?” Snape hissed.

“Not on your life! You’re gorgeous,” Harry whispered, brushing his hand over the multicoloured scales. His thumb brushed what looked like a scaly nipple and Snape emitted a clear moan. “You like that?”

“You cannot be ssseriousss about thisss--”

In answer, Harry dipped his head and licked Snape’s chest. The scales were rough in one direction, cool and smooth in another, and soon Harry became caught up in the way their texture felt against his tongue.

Snape’s formerly articulate words had dissolved into hisses, his body arching up against Harry’s in a clear attempt to get closer. “--yesss...”

Harry had just enough presence of mind to banish their clothes before things got much more involved. Far from scratching his skin, the texture of Snape’s scales felt arousing, and when Harry’s hips pushed down to allow his cock to rub against Snape’s inner leg, he gasped. That felt amazing, and he told Snape as much.

“Thisss isss madnessss,” Snape whispered.

“Good madnessss,” Harry hissed back in Parseltongue, smiling as Snape’s pupils dilated. “Great madnessss.”

Snape’s body seemed to undulate, the movement of his scales almost caressing Harry as he shifted, wrapping his leg around Harry’s hips.

Harry closed his eyes, savouring the sensation of rough against smooth, and in that moment his world tilted. Snape rolled them, tucking Harry beneath him, ending up frotting between Harry’s spread legs.

They moved against each other, Harry whispering encouragement in a mixture of English and Parseltongue. It didn’t take long for his body’s pleasure to overwhelm him, and for him to come spurting against Snape’s scaled belly.

Collapsing, Harry wrapped his arms about Snape, tucked his face into Snape’s neck and panted, breathing in a mixture of sex and a musk that reminded him, oddly, of grass. He cleared his throat. “Did you--?”

“Achieve ecssstasssy?” Snape asked. “Not asss yet.”

Harry raised his head and tried to look down between their bodies. Blushing, he asked, “Then how--?”

Snape shifted up. “Watch and sssee.”

As Harry stared, the formerly smooth area around Snape’s crotch began to bulge, and an appendage that looked a lot like a penis but split in the centre emerged. Unable to help himself, Harry reached for it, wincing when Snape’s hand grabbed his wrist. “Can I touch it?” Harry asked.

After a slight hesitation, Snape nodded and released Harry’s hand. “Ssslowly,” he hissed.

Harry laid his hand on it, sliding one finger up and down gently, and watched Snape’s face carefully as he did so.

“Yesss.” Snape’s face relaxed, his mouth falling open as Harry’s fingers explored. “Yessss more.”

Curious, Harry closed his hand around it, beginning to pump up and down.

Snape responded beautifully to that, thrusting into Harry’s hand with increasing urgency, and when Harry used his thumb to very gently stroke the tops of the split penis, Snape shuddered, inarticulate hissing cascading from his throat.

Harry, his cock already hard again, whispered, “Do you think you can...fuck me with this?”

Above him, Snape froze. “Thisss isss sssomething you wisssh?” he asked, clearly shocked.

“God, yesss,” Harry replied in Parseltongue. “Jussst...how?”

“If you get on your kneesss, thisss ssshould be easssier,” Snape said, breath hot against Harry’s cheek.

Harry shook his head. “I want to sssee you.”

Snape’s eyes glittered with some unnamed emotion, but he nodded. Reaching down, he stroked himself a few times until a clear liquid started coming from both tips of his hemipenis. He smeared this on his fingers before sliding them between Harry’s legs towards his hole.

“Ssso good,” Harry hissed as Snape’s finger slipped inside him. Something about the liquid must have been a relaxant, too, since soon, Snape was able to put two, then three fingers inside Harry easily.

Harry was writhing, twisting his hips as Snape prepared him. “More, pleassse,” he begged.

Snape obliged, and by the time he had draped Harry’s legs over his shoulders and was lining himself up to slide into Harry, Harry was incoherent.

The first thrust made both men hiss in pleasure. Snape was clearly being careful, not moving too suddenly as he pumped shallowly into Harry. Inside, Harry was sure he could feel both ends of Snape’s forked hemipenis moving and he arched his back. “Harder, I promissse I won’t break!”

That seemed to reassure Snape, who began moving in and out with intent, his scales undulating against Harry as he thrust.

Harry was sliding his palms over Snape’s back, hips and buttocks, savouring the difference in textures between their skins. When Snape’s hemipenis first fluttered against his prostate, however, he lost it, thrashing beneath Snape as his cock again spurted his seed between their bodies.

Snape kept going, his formerly smooth rhythm now ragged as the sensations began to overwhelm him, too. With a long hiss, he finally emptied himself into Harry’s contracting channel, before collapsing beside Harry.

Exhausted, Harry only just managed to mutter a Cleaning Spell before curling up next to Snape and passing out.

~

“This is quite the career change, Harry,” McGonagall said, looking back and forth between Harry and Severus.

Severus, who was wearing his Glamour, smirked at her.

Harry clasped his hand. “I’m not sure I ever wanted to be a Dark wizard hunter, Headmistress. I think I’m better suited to a quiet life.”

“Asss if a life you are involved with could ever be quiet?” Severus hissed.

Harry smiled. “Severus agrees,” he said smoothly.

McGonagall inclined her head. “So be it. Just be sure to take care of each other. You’re both two of my favourite people.”

“Oh we will, Headmistress,” Harry promised, squeezing Severus’ hand. “We will.”

~