|snarryswapmod (snarryswapmod) wrote in snarry_swap,|
@ 2007-01-12 23:18:00
|Entry tags:||creation: fic, rated: nc-17, ravenna_c_tan|
Happy Daft Day lesyeuxverts00!
Title: A Proper Holiday
Prompt/Summary: Things (kinks) you would like included in your gift: cross-dressing. Optional- Include a scenario (plot device) you would like: I love jealous!Snape or jealous!Harry equally ... also, I love the sort of misunderstandings where one of them catches the other cheating and much angst ensues with an eventual hopeful ending (no sunsets and white horses perfection, but hope.) AU perfectly acceptable as I'm still in denial about most of HBP anyway.
Author's Note: Beta: miraba
Disclaimer: Non-commercial fanfic. Copyrights and trademarks on these characters are held by others.
"Minerva, that has to be one of the most preposterous things you've ever suggested I do."
Harry hung back, hearing the edge in Severus' voice. And was McGonagall actually in there, or was he talking to her through the Floo? Normally if she and Severus had tea they took it up in the Headmistress's office, but that didn't mean she might not make a special trip to the dungeon, especially if trying to cadge Snape into something.
"Do not think I have missed your patently transparent attempt at my rehabilitation, Headmistress..." Severus was saying, but he broke off. Harry couldn't quite hear her reply--she couldn't possibly be there.
Still, Harry hung back at the doorway and then was nearly knocked over as Severus strode through it. His hands were there in an instant, keeping Harry on his feet.
That instinct to protect had not faded, even now, half a year after the war and three months back at Hogwarts. Harry found himself clutching at Severus' wrists and staring into his eyes.
"Mr. Potter," The professor said with a twitch of his eyebrow. "What brings you here on a Saturday afternoon?"
Harry couldn't suppress a grin. "Why, Professor," he said, barely able to keep from laughing. "I need, um, help with my cauldron."
"Your cauldron?" Severus let his eyebrow rise all the way, as he tried to puzzle out where this little role-play was going.
"Yes, cauldron. You see, the handle is fine, but it seems that the bottom needs a little attention..." Harry froze as he delivered the joke, suddenly afraid that he'd overstepped his bounds when he saw the intensity in Snape's eyes.
"Is that so..." Severus said, as he gathered Harry close, sliding his hands around the small of Harry's back and under the edge of his trousers. "I would have thought you'd be in Hogsmeade today."
Harry put his head against the other man's collarbone and breathed in the scent of his robes. "That's why I'm here. With everyone out and about, no one will miss me."
"I find that hard to believe," Severus said, but wasted no more time on banter before catching Harry's lower lip in his mouth and kissing him until he felt the younger man's legs about to give way. He moved Harry onto the settee, and then with a brusque wave of his wand bolted the door. "I shouldn't allow you to tempt me this way."
"Please, Severus," Harry begged, his hands tangled in Severus' hair as the other man set to suckling his neck. "It's been weeks."
"Indeed. And did we not swear solemnly to the Headmistress that while at Hogwarts we would not do exactly what we are about to do?" He gave another wave of his wand and Harry now sat naked and without glasses on the green velvet of the settee.
Harry decided the question was rhetorical and did not answer it, preferring instead to luxuriate under the feeling of Severus' hands all across his skin. Yes, they had sworn to maintain a strictly appropriate teacher-student relationship so long as Harry was finishing his seventh year and so long as Severus remained a member of the faculty. McGonagall had, through sheer force of will, brought back every surviving member of Harry's seventh year class, restored Snape to teaching Potions, and done every other thing possible, or so it seemed, to recreate the Hogwarts that had existed prior to the war.
But some things had changed forever, of course. Dumbledore would never again walk these halls. Neither would Hagrid. And a certain student and a certain professor could not entirely ignore what had happened between them in the process of bringing down Voldemort, even if the Headmistress demanded they pretend they could.
Harry's cock stood taut though Severus had not touched it yet, and his teeth chattered he needed to be touched so much. "Please, Severus," he begged again, his eyes clenched shut.
He felt a wet fingertip swirl around his arsehole and let his legs fall open more. And then one long, potion-stained finger was making its way inside him.
A hot, wet mouth came next, enveloping the head of his cock and making Harry moan. The finger inside him flicked back and forth, and Harry's cock jumped in time, surging into Severus' mouth. And all too soon, he was coming, jetting deep into his partner's throat.
Severus sat back and licked at the corner of his lip with a satisfied air, though Harry knew he had to be far from it.
"No." Severus stood and was inwardly pleased that he could finally silence the boy with a single word. Though he was far from a boy now, nineteen years old and a veteran of the war. "You may still have the restraint, or lack thereof, of a teenager, but I am made of sterner stuff."
"I said no, Harry." Severus made as if to leave the room, then gave a wave of his wand and the ball of Harry's clothes hit his young lover in the chest. "Your glasses are on my desk." He did not have to turn to know that Harry had a crestfallen look on his face. "If you like, you may join me for a cup of tea in the lab. You may have free time this afternoon, but I do not."
He had barely put the tea cups down on the empty workbench--well away from the prepped ingredients that lay waiting on another table--when Harry sprang into the room.
"I miss you, you know," Harry said.
"I know. But we both agreed, this is not the time." Severus poured for them both, then turned back to his ingredients, lighting the flame under the cauldron with his wand.
"So what was McGonagall trying to get you to do now?"
Severus did not turn, but he did begin picking through the shredded aconite root a bit more brusquely. "Surely you have heard the news?"
"About the Yule Ball."
Something in the boy's voice made Severus turn and look at him. He had one leg drawn up on the bench, and was leaning his chin on his knee and looking melancholy.
"Yes, that." Severus returned to his work. He would puzzle out Potter's problem later. "With the number of wizards missing from the sixth and seventh year classes, our Headmistress has deemed it the duty of every male member of the faculty to see to it that the needs of her cotillion"--this last spoken as if it were the name of a particularly venomous snake--"be met with all propriety."
"If I hear the word propriety one more time, I'm going to scream."
"Well, it is the Headmistress's watchword." He sprinkled the roots into the cauldron and added a drop of camphor oil. "She truly believes, I think, that the more proper we are, the more healed we are from the war."
Harry's laugh came as a short bark. "In other words, as soon as we get over our battle madness or whatever it is, you and I will stop... seeing each other."
Snape picked up the silver knife on his worktable, then put it down again. "Oh, I think she is a bit more open-minded than that."
"Not that I've seen." Harry set his teacup down with a clink. "The war changed her, too, Severus."
"Yes, well spotted Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor." He reduced the flame and began pouring distilled water from a pre-measured goblet. "At any rate, she requires me to help the young ladies of Hogwarts with their return to normalcy by dancing with them."
Severus turned to look as it sounded rather like Potter had choked on his tea. He hadn't. "Yes. I am to chaperone Daphne Greengrass to this function, parade her about, and dance with her at least once before I may beg off and return to the solitude I prefer."
"Severus, was that a hint? Am I bothering you?"
"Please, Potter. Not everything a Slytherin says has a double meaning."
"No, some of them have triple meanings." But he sounded mollified. "Anyway, I know all about the dance. I have to go, too, after all."
"And who, pray tell, are you accompanying?" When the silence stretched on, Severus turned again to look.
Harry was fiddling with his teacup. "You know, Daphne has a friend in sixth year, don't you?"
Severus began to carefully shave the bark from a piece of willow into the bubbling solution, unsure where Potter's line of embarrassment would stop. "And you're taking her, I suppose?"
"Well, you know..."
Severus didn't know--when he was nineteen he was killing in the Dark Lord's name (er, the name which they weren't allowed to say...) and he had always been pants with girls anyway. Now, where were the lacewing flies?
"Potter, would you be so kind as to get me the jar of lacewing flies from the far cupboard? Third shelf from the bottom."
"Oh! Sure." Harry hopped up, retrieved the jar without incident and brought it over, an eager look on his face. "Anyway, her name's Tanya Plumkettle. You do realize, this is cutting it close though, with just a month to go."
Severus took the jar of lacewings and kissed Harry affectionately on the forehead. He supposed Harry was afraid if he waited any longer he'd be forced to go with Millicent Bulstrode. "Yes, and you and she shall wear festive red and gold like Gryffindors should, and a beautiful Yule shall be had by all."
"God, Severus, your sarcasm is blistering the paint off the benches," Harry replied, but he knew a goodbye when he heard it. He leaned in close, though, for just a moment, and said "See you at the Ball then," and left the dungeons.
The ball was just over a month away, and although Harry had been dreading it, talking about it with Severus had suddenly made him eager for it to arrive.
He'd first heard when the notice had gone up in the Gryffindor common room about a week ago. The girls, as usual, were the ones all excited, while the boys were somewhat less so, though it was nowhere near as bad as the debacle in fourth year. Harry didn't even like to think about that. He'd learned the lesson, or so he thought, about how painful it was to pretend to like someone you didn't.
This year's lesson, of course, was the opposite. How to pretend not to like someone you desperately, desperately did. As he saw Ron pull Hermione into a tango-like stance and then the two of them break up laughing, he felt a surge of anger that he had ever agreed to McGonagall's terms. What right, honestly, did she have to come between two grown men in a perfectly legitimate relationship?
Though when Harry thought about it, he wasn't sure he could call what they had a legitimate relationship. Severus had never been the most readable character, and to this day Harry couldn't say for certain exactly how they had gone from depending on each other to save each other's lives to needing one another for sex. He supposed if they could go from being moral enemies to trusting each other on the battlefield, though, the jump to sex from there wasn't such a huge one.
But the war was over, and Harry wanted more than the mutual release they'd sought in times of stress. What if McGonagall was right, and when they got over the war, they'd stop? Other people who'd fought in the war were getting married and starting families and that sort of thing. Ron and Hermione were engaged. So were Lupin and Tonks. Harry wanted to be able to do normal things, too. With Severus, if that was possible. Walk through Hogsmeade together. Share ice cream at Fortescue's. (Well, maybe not. He wasn't sure Severus ate ice cream.)
Seeing the notice about the ball had made Harry want, at that moment, to dance with Severus under the magical sky in the Great Hall. To hold him close, and to be swept past glittering lights until he was dizzy with desire.
He had been in a terrible mood since then, a black cloud hanging over him for the entire week. But now he smiled as he made his way back upstairs to the common room. A little over a month to go was plenty of time. He was certain that Plumkettle would go for it. He felt brilliant, like he'd taken a sip of Felix Felicis. Of course, the fact that Severus had got him off helped his mood, too. But now that they had a plan, the Ball would surely be one of the best nights of Harry's life.
Severus stood in the Entrance Hall in his dress robes, trying hard not to scowl at every brightly dressed student who passed him. He had been told that it was a witch's prerogative to keep a wizard waiting, but in all seriousness he felt that five minutes of standing here alone, with nothing to occupy his mind, was enough.
Ah, there was the unmistakable sound of Potter's laughter, coming up the stairs from the Slytherin dungeons, and yes, he had Daphne Greengrass on one arm and Tanya Plumkettle on the other. Greengrass tripped as they reached the top of the stairs, and he reached out and caught her, laughing all the while.
Greengrass was in a stunning red satin ensemble, undoubtedly from Twillfit and Tattings. The bodice of the dress tapered to her waist, and her skirts flared out like a fairy confection, while red satin gloves encased her hands and arms, leaving her shoulders bare. Some kind of jewelry sparkled at her wrist, surely real diamonds if the Greengrass fortune was as rumored. Meanwhile, Potter was in green dress robes that made his eyes sparkle like Slytherin emeralds. And Plumkettle was in, well, plum, making the three of them a holiday color display. They were all laughing now, and Severus wondered if they had sneaked some Firewhisky prior to putting in their appearance.
Potter took Greengrass by the arm, then, though, and presented her in such earnest seriousness to Severus, that Severus knew he was joking. "Professor, Miss Greengrass. Miss Greengrass, the honorable Professor Severus Snape, Order of Merlin, First Class."
Greengrass tittered wildly, gave a ridiculous curtsey, and batted her eyelashes. "Why, so pleased to meet you, Professor," she said, clearly poking fun at the ridiculous manners McGonagall had foisted upon them. "Shall we go in?"
"Yes, Miss Greengrass," Severus said, holding out his elbow. Behind him, the other two were snickering, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Potter and Plumkettle nearly hanging on one another. "Your cohort find this amusing," he said to her, as he led her into the Great Hall.
"They appreciate... the uniqueness of our situation," she replied with a knowing and chaste smile. "And I do wish to sincerely thank you, Professor, for agreeing to take me to the Ball tonight."
He steered her toward a fountain of bubbling drinks, the magic crystal cups floating instantly to one's open hand. "It is my pleasure, Miss Greengrass," he replied. "For one is so rarely given the opportunity to act chivalrous."
They sipped from their cups and circled the hall, nodding greetings to others they knew. The Hall was beautiful, Severus had to admit, all white and silver and blue, the air seeming to shimmer with frost and the floor seemingly carpeted with soft (yet dry) snow.
The dance floor, on the other hand, was clear of the magical stuff, and couples were assembling for the opening dance. "Severus," she said, then blushed, "Oh, may I call you Severus? Please, may we dance?"
Severus did not answer--Greengrass was behaving exactly as he would expect a silly goose of a girl to act in her fairy princess dress, and far be it for him to tell her she ought to act otherwise. Instead he bowed and held out his hand, which the girl took, again laughing, and he led her onto the dance floor.
Ah, and there was Minerva, a wide, approving smile making her cheeks rosy. She gave Severus a nod and then raised her eyebrow to the musicians.
There was a brief moment at the start, when Severus and the girl lurched a bit--honestly, Severus thought, it was as if she didn't know which way to go. Hadn't McGonagall forced ballroom dance lessons on them all? But then they were swinging smoothly, crossing the floor in a stately fashion. Severus' hand felt warm against the satin of her bodice and he felt a brief pang of worry that he would leave a sweat stain there, but surely a dress like this one was charmed against such incursions.
She laughed again and caught his eye, batting her eyelashes outrageously. Severus gave a wan smile in return. He would be back to terrifying the first year Hufflepuffs soon enough. "Oh look," the girl said, looking over his shoulder. "Potter and Plumkettle seem to be having quite a time."
He spun the girl so that their positions were reversed, and was shocked to find Potter bending Plumkettle back in a deep bend, his face nearly buried in her cleavage.
Severus spun them again so he could no longer see the sight. He was not sure which was more shocking, that Potter could be so overly familiar with a female, or that Severus had the sudden urge to knock Plumkettle on her teakettle.
The music slowed, then, and the Greengrass girl actually put her arms around his neck. He could feel the line of her body, the bodice, as he settled both hands at her hips. "Why Severus," she said into his ear with a teasing voice, "doesn't that sight just get you hot and bothered?"
"Miss Greengrass," he began, but she was looking past him again. "I rather think that we should mingle a bit. I am not used to so much exertion."
"Whatever you wish," she said then, with a wink. "I know full well you won't stay long."
"Oh." Had Potter told her what he'd said? "That is very... understanding of you."
She tittered again, as if he'd made the funniest joke, then took his arm as he led her to the tables piled high with confections. They exchanged pleasantries with Professor Flitwick, and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who seemed to dance together perfectly contentedly despite the limp Weasley had picked up in the final battle with Voldemort.
"They look good together, don't they?" Greengrass said with a sigh.
"I suppose," Severus murmured.
"Would you... get me one of those?" she asked then, pointing with her red gloves toward the cream puffs that looked dusted with snow.
Severus complied, picking one off the pile and then awkwardly feeding it into her open mouth.
She swallowed it with a blissful expression on her face, then bit her lip and looked at him again. "Another?"
He suppressed a sigh and repeated the maneuver, noting this time her lips and tongue just managed to graze his fingers. No, he definitely should not encourage her in such behavior. But as he was about to open his mouth to say something, she spoke first.
"Professor, truly, this has been one of the best nights of my life."
"I, well..." She had a bit of powdered sugar at the corner of her lips and Severus was just trying to remember if there was a polite way to tell her so, when he caught sight of Potter feeding Plumkettle in exactly the same manner. Only when Plumkettle got sugar on her lips, Potter leaned forward and swiped her with his tongue...
"Miss Greengrass. It has been a lovely evening, and I was honored to have accompanied you on your debut." He could see Potter and his date now making their way toward the Entrance Hall. "Now, I believe Mr. Zabini has been trying to catch your eye, so if you will excuse me?"
She glanced at the diamond-studded timepiece on her wrist. "Oh, but of course, Severus..."
He did not even wait for Greengrass to finish. Just turned and walked as quickly as he could to the exit. Now, which way had they gone? Out onto the grounds? That was the usual strategy for couples sneaking off for a bit of romance, wasn't it? He stalked out the door and into the fairy-lit rose garden which had been conjured for the evening--honestly, Severus thought, he knew the garden was traditional, but for McGonagall to go on and on about propriety and then to practically create a haven for...
He heard a masculine giggle. They were just on the other side of the tall hedge. He made his way slowly around it.
Yes, there. Potter looked as though he were trying to tickle the poor girl's tonsils with his tongue. Too blinded by jealous rage to do else, he lashed out, grabbing the idiot boy by the back of his collar and pulling him up by the scruff.
"Oy!" squeaked Plumkettle. "Professor Snape! I thought Harry said you..."
But Severus was too keen to castigate his callous lover. "See here, boy." He shook him for emphasis. "You knew full well what a torture it would be for me here tonight, and yet you took every opportunity to flaunt..."
"Professor Snape!" Plumkettle repeated, hanging on his arm now. "What are you doing? It's only just an hour now!"
And then a second set of arms, these wrapped in red satin, was hanging on him from the other side. "Severus! What is going on!"
"Have you all gone mad?" he roared, shaking Potter again. The boy was gritting his teeth.
Plumkettle turned to Greengrass. "You said he was okay with it. You said he knew!"
"I thought he did!" And she turned to him and said, "Severus, let Daphne go."
"What?" But even as he was trying to puzzle out what these crazed teenagers must be talking about, he felt the body in his grip shifting. It took but a few moments, and there, in green dress robes that made her pale skin look luminous, stood Daphne Greengrass.
And there next to him, in a red satin dress that brought out how red-rimmed his eyes were from holding back tears, was Harry Potter.
Severus took a deep breath, closed his eyes and took one more, and then said, in a very forcibly calm voice, "Will one of you please explain to me just exactly why I've been made a fool of tonight?"
Harry's mouth hung open. "But the Polyjuice was your idea!"
"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you talking about?"
"That day in the lab! We were talking about the ball. I told you about Daphne and Tanya!" Harry gestured at the two girls, who were now huddled together and giving the males the evil eye. "It seemed like the perfect solution!" Severus watched in horror as tears began to spill out of Potter's eyes.
The boy collapsed onto a marble bench, suddenly unable to stand on the now too-small heels, his skirts coming to rest a moment after. He leaned his head in his hands. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you'd... You're as bad as McGonagall."
Severus was torn between the desire to hold Potter until he stopped raving--which strategy had worked well during the war--and to find out what was actually going on. Finding out the truth won out. "Miss Greengrass," he said to the woman in green. "My apologies for treating you in such an uncouth manner. I am apparently operating under incomplete information. Will you please enlighten me as to the nature of the conspiracy?"
She looked like she was hiding a laugh. "Yes, Professor. Harry came to us about a month ago and said he had a solution to all our problems. He wanted to go to the ball with you, and I wanted to go to the ball with Tanya here, and he said you, sir, you had the answer."
"The lacewing flies," Harry sniveled. "I thought you were trying to hint at me about Polyjuice Potion."
Severus blinked as the details of that afternoon in the lab filtered back into his consciousness.
"Harry said you'd know it was him because you told him to wear a red dress," Plumkettle prompted.
And there he was, the hero of the Wizarding world, in a red ball gown, with his satin gloves balled in his fists, crying and making the fairies flit about nervously.
"If you'll excuse me, ladies," Severus said to the young witches, "My deepest apologies. It does appear there has been some miscommunication. I do hope you two will enjoy the lovely evening to the fullest. But now, if you would?" He indicated Harry with a gesture and the two witches backed away, Greengrass actually giving him a little wink before they disappeared around the wall of roses to find their own hidden alcove.
Harry didn't even know why he was crying so hard. There really hadn't been time for love or romance or anything like that in his life. When Cho had wanted it, back in fourth year, he hadn't been ready. When he and Ginny had been seeing each other, almost nothing had changed between them except that one-on-one Quidditch had turned into snogging by the lake. And then had come the war, and the strange accommodation that he and Severus had.
And then had come peace, and the promise of silence they made to the Headmistress, and it had all been fine until tonight, when Harry had started to think that maybe now he could finally let himself fall in love.
Stupid idea. The night had been just as magical as he'd imagined, dancing with Severus as if they were on air, holding him close... but then...
Someone was tugging on his gloves, trying to get him to look up. He let his hands drop to his many-layered lap and looked up into Severus' eyes.
He had sat down on the bench and held Harry's gaze for so long, Harry wondered if a hex had struck him speechless.
Finally, he said, "You have a bit of sugar, on your lip."
"I... I do?" Harry stammered.
"Yes," Severus said, leaning close. "Right here."
And then Severus was kissing him, his arms closing around him and making his skirts rustle. That tongue, so warm and sinuous, Harry had never felt it quite so urgent. And then the warm breath in his ear, the suckling at his neck... the dress did not fit so well anymore.
"I'm so sorry," came the whispers against his skin. "Harry, I'm so sorry."
Harry couldn't answer, he could only cling to the man in black robes leaning him back on the bench. His skirts rustled and he rubbed his legs together, the feel of his silk stockings suddenly, shockingly erotic. "S-Severus..."
"I hadn't meant to..." There was that mouth, licking and nibbling along his bare shoulders, along the edge of the dress where it barely covered his nipples. And then Harry shifted and Severus' hands slid up the bones in the bodice.
Harry finally found his voice. "I thought... I thought you wanted to see me in a red dress."
Severus swallowed, as the depth of Harry's disappointment became clear. "I wish I had thought of that," he said.
Harry was still having trouble believing that Severus could have missed the whole plot, though. "You really thought I was Daphne."
"Indeed, I was so convinced that she was you, that I nearly choked the poor girl to death when I thought you were kissing Miss Plumkettle."
"But why would you...?" His heart hammered under the satin. "You were that jealous...?
Nodding solemnly, Severus lifted Harry's hand to his mouth and kissed his palm, then nibbled his way along the tender underside until he reached Harry's armpit. "You are gorgeous, Harry," he said. He slid a hand along one of Harry's stockinged thighs and Harry gasped under the touch. "You are... a creature not to be resisted."
"Do you mean that?" Harry pressed his knees together, trapping Severus' hand between his legs. Hope flared. Severus was not only jealous that Harry had kissed someone else, now he sounded like he might break his pledge to the Headmistress as well.
"Tell me what you want, Harry," Severus said, pressing Harry's palm against his heart.
Harry pulled him down to whisper in his ear. "I want you inside me. Please, Severus. It's been months..." But Harry broke off as he realized his lover needed no more coaxing, no more convincing, when Severus gently pushed his legs apart.
"What have you got on under this?" Severus whispered.
"Oh, um, just some uh..." But Severus' fingers had reached the satin knickers and began toying with the elastic edge along one leg. Harry gasped as Severus held his gaze, even as one fingertip continued to run a teasing caress under the edge of the panties. Then he pulled them aside, and that finger slid in the crease at the center of Harry's groin, toward his arsehole.
A cry escaped Harry's throat as Severus teased him there, and the fairies flitted about much more happily than they had before.
Next Severus drew his wand, and Harry felt the knickers disappear. Then came the familiar slickness of the lubrication charm and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He hardly dared believe Severus was going to go through with it until now.
And then one arm was cradling him under his torso, and the other was digging well into the skirts, until that one finger had breached him. Harry clung to Severus' shoulders, biting his lip.
"Are you all right?" came the voice, soft and deep.
Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just been such a long time..."
"Harry, four months is not that long, considering."
"I know. I just... I got so used to you taking me all the time. Now I'm just..." But he trailed off as Severus' kisses on his forehead intensified.
"It's all right, Harry," he said, his lips moving against Harry's damp skin. Harry felt a second finger lining up with the first. "But I can feel how tight you are."
Harry merely nodded and took a deep breath, or tried to in the bodice, as if trying to suck the two fingers in. And then suddenly, they were both deep, and squeezing his prostate gently.
Severus fucked him that way for a long time, waiting until Harry's breaths had turned to moans once again, before changing to a corkscrew motion, opening him gradually, and brushing past that spot again and again... Harry came abruptly, with only satin and chiffon touching his cock. He cried out, clutching at Severus as he spasmed.
And when the spasms subsided, Severus was still drilling him gently. Harry looked up, half-afraid that Severus would declare them finished after all, but no, he was unveiling his cock from his dress robes and slicking it with his other hand.
"Come here, Harry," he said softly, pulling back and then lying on his back on the soft grass.
Harry climbed over him, his skirts nearly hiding the man beneath him, and smiled. Anyone glancing quickly into their little corner of the garden wouldn't see much...
And then Severus' hands were clamped tight around the wasp waist of the bodice. "Lower yourself, Harry. Take your time."
Harry reached between his legs--damn, but there were a lot of layers of skirt--and held Severus' long cock steady as he lowered himself down. The head felt so blunt compared to the fingers that had just been there, as always, just as Harry remembered. Then he pushed and gasped as the first inch of penetration made him tremble.
His legs shook, but he realized that Severus was helping him with his hands, taking some of his weight on his arms. "God, Severus..."
"Harry," came the answer.
Harry took another inch of him in. "I'd forgotten..."
"Forgot how the first time it took the better part of a week for me to get all the way inside you?" Severus murmured.
"And to think..." Harry said as he edged downward further, "I never used to think of you as a patient person."
"Some things, Mr. Potter, are worth the wait."
The feeling of fullness continued to grow as Harry impaled himself. When he was finally fully seated he flopped forward and rested his cheek against Severus'.
"All right?' Severus asked.
Harry nodded, then rocked forward with his hands on Severus' chest, coming half off, then rocking back to be penetrated fully again. "Uh huh," he managed before he did it again.
He set a slow pace, and he smiled when he saw that Severus had closed his eyes and his face had gone slack.
It wasn't long before Harry felt himself hardening again. He reached under the skirts to help himself along and Severus gripped him by the hips again, pulling him downward to match the upward thrust.
"Oh, yes," Harry whispered, mostly to himself. Had it really been four months since Severus had come? How did the man stand it? Harry pulled on his own cock while Severus thrust faster into him, and soon Harry was again testing the stain-proof charms on the dress's fabric, as he pumped come against the underlayer of the skirt and onto Severus' stomach.
The touch of the hot cream on Severus' skin seemed to set off a chain reaction, and Harry clenched tight around his lover's spasming cock. The spasms went on for a long time and given the amount of liquid Harry could feel running down his leg he decided four months was entirely believable.
And then he collapsed in a heap of satin and chiffon, cradled in black wool and twill.
Severus was quite certain he'd never felt better in his life. Oh, they'd had sex before, some truly mind-blowing sex back at Grimmauld Place, and there was that one time at Godric's Hollow... But it had always been with the possibility that it would be the last time, that tomorrow or the next day one or both of them would be killed. This... this opened up all kinds of possibilities.
After they had lain like that for long minutes, Harry said, "You know, if it would make you angry if I kissed someone else, I'd gladly.... I mean, that is, if you wanted me to promise not to kiss anyone else, I would."
Severus was not sure what stunned him more, Harry's sentiment or his complete inability to make a coherent sentence.
"And, um, of course, I don't just mean kiss. I mean, I never want to do this with anyone else. Ever. Except you."
Severus' lips moved a bit, but no words came out.
"I mean, not this exact thing, of course, as I think the red dress is kind of on the expensive side, but I meant..."
Severus hushed him by kissing him.
It was the first day of classes after the winter holiday, and Severus toyed with the parchment in his hands and carefully schooled the smirk from his face. He straightened the already-straight papers on his desk once more and waited.
A moment later, Harry, flustered and out of breath came charging through the door. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"
"Mr. Potter," Severus said in his deepest classroom voice. "I regret to inform you that you've earned detention tonight."
The gobsmacked look on his face was truly extraordinary. "But... I..."
"I am not the one issuing the detention," Severus went on. "However, you have been instructed to serve it with me." He held up the parchment, then unfolded it dramatically, cleared his throat, and read. "'Dear Professor Snape, I hope that you may take this matter in hand as I feel certain that propriety demands that a male faculty member attend to it. As you know, one seventh year student, Harry Potter, engaged in rather inappropriate behavior in public on the night of the Yule Ball.'
"What?" Harry's face grew poinsettia red. "Don't tell me she..."
Severus held up a hand to forestall any more outbursts, and continued reading. "'In the Great Hall he was seen by no fewer than seven people to touch Miss Tanya Plumkettle in an inappropriate manner for a gentleman in public. I leave it to you to undertake his instruction in proper comportment.'"
Harry's face broke out into a wide grin.
"'I know he grew up in a cupboard, but before now I never realized the immense breadth of knowledge of the social niceties that the rest of us enjoy, and that Mr. Potter must undertake to learn immediately before he can become a proper member of Wizarding society. Hogwarts does not produce barbarians. Given the severity of the lack of his education, I would suggest remedial lessons with you or another staff member at least once a week from now until the end of term. The exact curriculum I leave in your capable hands.'" He let the paper fall to the desk. "Signed, Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress. P.S. Happy Christmas."
"Once a week, eh?"
"Once a week. I have already written her back to assure her I will take personal responsibility for your...correction." Severus could no longer hold back his own smile.
Harry laughed. "Did she really write 'in your capable hands?'"
Severus nodded and stood. "I told you she might be a bit more... open-minded about us than you thought. Now, aren’t you about to be late for Transfiguration?"
"Crap! Yes!" Harry fairly ran from the room. Then suddenly put his head back through the door. "Wait, you said tonight. What time?"
"Seven o'clock And don't be late."
"I won't!" And with that, off he went.
Severus sat back down with a sigh. Seven o'clock was still six hours away.
He would have to terrify some Hufflepuffs in the meantime.