InsaneJournal

Fic: Severus Snape in the Forest of Dean with the Sword of Gryffindor
Title: Delivering the Sword
Author: torino10154
Character: Severus Snape
Location: Forest of Dean
Prop: Sword of Gryffindor
Other Characters: References to the Chosen One
Rating: R
Warnings: Nothing beyond the fact that Severus's 'inspiration' is not yet 18.
Word Count: ~850
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. No wizards have been harmed while making this fic.
Author's Notes: YAY Wankfest! Thank you most sincerely to the dynamic duo for all their help. Any mistakes that remain are entirely my doing.

Severus ran his finger along the cool Goblin-made blade. The irony of the fact that he was the person entrusted to keep the most quintessential of Gryffindor artifacts safe was not lost on him.

The fact that Professor Dumbledore still refused to tell him why Potter needed it chafed. As he pulled on his traveling cloak he thought about his own plan to get Potter the sword, and he took no small amount of pleasure not confiding that in Dumbledore.

Apparating to the Forest of Dean after he stepped outside Hogwarts' gate, Severus had little trouble finding an area of magic, surprisingly strong but quite familiar. Silently he moved through the trees, searching for the perfect location to place the sword. 'Conditions of need and valor', Dumbledore had said. Certainly Potter's reckless bravery knew no bounds….

He spotted a small pool, not quite frozen over. It was deep enough to make it a challenge for Potter to retrieve the sword, but not large enough that it would be difficult to find.

Severus then looked around and noticed a perfect point from which to watch, two trees growing close together, and Potter would never know he was there.

He tried to crush the thought that perhaps he might linger longer just to see Potter, not for the purpose of his mission. From what he'd heard after the mishap at the Ministry, Potter now truly carried himself like a man, his demeanor impressive.

A schoolboy no longer.

Severus had watched him, had protected him, but now he wanted him. Badly. He'd used his desire for the boy to his advantage with the Dark Lord, allowing him to see how much Severus wanted him. Bending him over his desk, taking him up against the cold castle walls. He hid his emotions though, never revealing how he felt, only his basest desires. The appearance of improper thoughts gave him a reputation that, while vile, worked in his favour with the Dark Lord and his band of degenerate Death Eaters.

As his pulse quickened, blood thrumming through his veins, Severus noticed the hilt of the sword was growing warm in his hand, an unexpected tingle of magic, urging him on, seeming to know what he was thinking.

He pressed his back against one of the twin trees and reached inside his robes and pulled out his cock, hissing softly at the contact of his cool fingers to his warm flesh. His eyes were slits, but never fell closed as he stroked himself, picturing the boy-turned-man that Severus's entire adult life revolved around.

He pictured the broad planes of his chest, his narrow waist, abdomen only just beginning to darken with jet black curls. Those fierce green eyes – his heart clenched. What he would give to see them look at him with something other than hatred, just once, even though he'd done everything to deserve it.

A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple as he rocked his hips forward into his fist, the sword humming in his other. Inspiration struck and he brought the cool length of the sword against his hot flesh and stroked himself against the flat of the blade.

The sword was heavy in his hand, his forearm flexing as he held it against himself, rubbing against the surface of the blade, taking his pleasure in defiling this Gryffindor as he couldn't have the living, breathing one he desired.

He pulled and stroked and dreamed of pushing Potter down to the snowy ground and fucking him, hard, hearing him cry out his name, begging for more.

"Fuck," he breathed as his balls tightened and his release exploded out of him, splattering the sword, watching as a trail ran down to the tip.

He stood panting, the cool air rushing into his lungs.

It was then that he recalled something Dumbledore had said to him, casually, as if it mattered little.

Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them.*

He nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the thought. It certainly sounded like something Dumbledore would believe.

Scheming old bastard.

Severus still wasn't sure why Potter needed the sword, but in his struggle against death perhaps he needed something more personal—willingly given—from Severus as well.

Struck by the thought, he immediately smeared his come along the length of the blade.

To his utter shock, it seemed as if the blade absorbed the fluid and shone more brightly than before.

He cast a cleansing charm on himself and straightened his robes. Making his way to the pond, he cracked the ice with a well placed Reducto and lifting the sword into the air with his wand, slowly maneuvered it into place, then lowered it beneath the surface of the water. Refreezing the ice, he took a deep breath, and cast, Expecto Patronum and a brilliant doe leapt from the end of his wand then turned and approached him slowly.

"Bring Potter to the pond. Do not speak a word." She nodded her head and silently cantered off into the woods. Making sure to cover his footprints as he retreated, Severus made his way behind the two trees to wait. And watch.



*P. 304 US DH hardcover. Said by Hermione to Harry.