Happy Springsmut, cnary_crem_dght! Author:centaury_squill Recipient:cnary_crem_dght Title: Betwixt Wind and Water Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Snape/Krum, mention of previous Snape/Regulus Black Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: After the unexpected end to the Triwizard tournament, Viktor Krum and his fellow students have an eventful journey back to Durmstrang. Warnings: wand penetration, wanking, voyeurism, improbable Bulgarian accent Word Count: ~4,600 Author's Notes: Happy SpringSmut, cnary_crem_dght! One of your prompts was Headmaster!Snape, and here he is a temporary acting Headmaster (although not of Hogwarts). Hope that's OK for you. You also said that you like pretty much any kink as long as it's done well; things a little bit more dark and not entirely romantic; Snape sullen, awkward and very cock sure of himself; Snape to bottom every once in a while, and that happy endings are okay, but happily ever after endings are not welcomed. I hope I've hit the spot in at least some of these areas. Thanks to G for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Betwixt Wind and Water
The wind shrieked through the rigging like a pack of demented harpies and hurled itself against the deck. Forced to stop his obsessive pacing, Snape clung to the ship's rail. He shouted bitter curses into the heedless tempest. He cursed that coward Igor Karkaroff for fleeing the minute the Dark Lord's return was confirmed. He cursed the wind, the violent movement of the ship, the seasickness which his potions were barely keeping in check. Most of all he cursed his own weakness in agreeing to chaperone Karkaroff's ungrateful brats safely back to Durmstrang.
The only good thing about this thrice-damned voyage was that it had removed him from Lord Voldemort's clutches.
Snape gripped the ship's rail even more tightly as he relived his recent meeting with the Dark Lord. Voldemort, coldly exultant in the possession of his new body, had insisted on analysing events in the Little Hangleton graveyard. He was triumphant that his planned return had succeeded; furious the Potter brat had escaped him; ambivalent towards his chastened Death Eaters; condescending to Snape, willing to pardon him in return for all he had to tell about Albus Dumbledore.
And he, Snape – how had he felt, seeing his former master again after all these years? Had he felt any of the old lure…the subtle seduction of the Dark Arts...the promise of a better world...supremacy over Muggle brutes like his own father?
A tug on his arm brought him back to the present. Krum, the most obstreperous of all the Durmstrang brats, was mouthing at him. The howl of the wind and the mad chorus it set up in the rigging prevented him from hearing any words. Snape groped awkwardly for his wand; cast a non-verbal spell. Instantly, he and Krum were surrounded by a bubble of blessed silence. Even the remorseless buffeting of the wind had eased in their charmed sphere.
"You should go to your cabin, Professor," Krum said. "Ve can handle this." He pointed to two hefty Durmstrang students clinging to the spokes of the ship's wheel: a violently swinging lantern flung their shadows across the deck.
"I am not Igor Karkaroff, to run away like a coward or skulk in my cabin when danger threatens," Snape said with a sneer.
Krum's thick black eyebrows drew together in reluctant respect. "But there is not much to be done until the vind drops... ve haff lowered the sails... ve must just vait, now, and hope ve can keep clear of any rocks."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a vicious gust of wind tore loose a piece of rigging immediately above them. As it whirled away into the darkness, they saw pieces of broken spar bouncing off the remaining rigging, buffeted by the wind, all in the eerie silence created by Snape's spell. A heavy block hurtled straight for them. Snape swiftly gestured towards it with his wand, slowing its headlong plunge. He pushed Krum down onto the deck and hunched over him in instinctive protection. Pieces of wood and iron rained down around them.
The wind stilled for a moment. Snape's senses sharpened. He tasted and smelt the salty sea tang on Krum's skin and hair, and felt the length of the lithe young body under his own. For the first time in weeks, his cock began to harden.
Viktor Krum squirmed fiercely under Snape's arched body. "Vot are you doing?"
"Saving your life, you ungrateful brat," Snape growled, reluctantly straightening up.
Krum got to his feet and glared at the older man. "I vill go to my cabin now. And stay avay from me!"
Snape smirked as he, too, went below deck. Krum was just feigning indignation; he had felt the boy respond to him as their bodies pressed together. He could wait.
Back in his cabin, Snape gave his customary scowl at its luxurious fittings. Igor Karkaroff was a self-indulgent bastard: rich silk tapestries featuring savage hunting scenes hung on the bulkheads; thick sleek furs were piled on top of the lockers; an ornate silver-chased lantern swung crazily above his head.
Snape changed into his nightshirt, downed a seasickness potion, and lay uneasily in his bunk, enduring the pitch and roll of the ship. Later in the night the ship's motion calmed at last and he slept.
@ @ @
Snape started the day with coffee and rolls brought to him in his cabin; one of the few of Karkaroff's indulgences he had been happy to adopt. He poured the last few drops from the long-spouted silver coffee pot and took his cup up on deck.
The wind had dropped: it was possible to see the damage it had done to the rigging. Durmstrang students ran busily about – tidying the deck, coiling ropes, readying the sails. Then Krum appeared, carrying his broomstick. Snape watched as he joined the others and gestured up at the mast. They had a short conference, then Krum mounted his broom and kicked off.
Snape gazed upwards, eyes narrowed, watching Krum soar up against the clouds, higher and higher; a skylark, a distant speck. Then he plummeted down, down, down, pulling out of his headlong dive at last to hover beside the top of the mast. Now he looked more like a bird of prey: great beak of a nose, hunched shoulders, dark eyes intent. His hands reached out to the tangled rigging.
Snape's breath caught. It had brought it all back, watching Krum swoop and soar with all the heart-stopping grace of a Quidditch Seeker – that grace which always went straight to his cock. They all had it – his first love, Regulus Black – even the Potter boy – Snape scowled, he would not think about the Potter boy – and now Viktor Krum, possibly the most graceful of them all.
Aloft, Krum's sure hands finished their task. He glanced down; his eyes met Snape's. His sallow cheeks flushed and he rocketed away, putting his Nimbus through a complicated series of acrobatics culminating in a death-defying dive to the deck. Still straddling his broomstick he glowered truculently at Snape.
"Vy vere you vatching me? I don't like being vatched all the time. Not by you, anyvay!"
Snape glared back, remembering the feel of Viktor's body under his. "Are you so sure about that?" he hissed.
Viktor shrugged, dismounted and slouched off, his broomstick over his shoulder. Snape leaned on the rail gazing out at the now calm sea, musing again...of Regulus Black – in the air just now Viktor Krum had reminded him so much of Regulus...of that heady time when Voldemort was first coming to power, promising so much – anything had seemed possible in those days. But it had all gone so terribly wrong; Voldemort no Messiah after all, Regulus dead...
Snape's face twisted and he pushed himself abruptly away from the rail. Voldemort’s promises no longer had the power to capture his imagination and no matter what the future held, his present task was to see these children safely home. They all pretended to be so self-sufficient: Krum in particular boasting that on the voyage to Hogwarts the students had done all the steering while their Headmaster stayed in his cabin. But Snape had not missed their worried looks and huddled consultations this morning. He had a shrewd suspicion that the storm had done far more damage than just rearranging the rigging.
He looked across the deck to where Krum stood gesticulating among a knot of students. The boy was pretending to ignore him, but Snape was sure that Krum was aware of his gaze. He was proved correct when Krum fidgeted uneasily and at last swung round, meeting Snape's eyes with a challenging stare. Smirking, Snape beckoned him over.
At first Krum resisted, but finally he handed his broomstick to a fellow student and crossed the gently heaving deck with his awkward gait; shoulders hunched, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his robes.
"Vot do you vant, Professor?"
Snape regarded him calmly. "Tell me, Mr Krum...how does your helmsman know what course to steer?"
Krum looked unhappy. "There vos a simple navigation spell – but the vind has blown us so far off course the spell is broken."
"And how do you intend to remedy the situation?" asked Snape.
"Vell, there are charts – Professor Karkaroff had charts," Krum mumbled, looking at his feet.
"Where are they, these charts?"
"In his – your – cabin," Krum said reluctantly.
Snape put his hand on Krum's shoulder. "Then let us go to my cabin and examine them, shall we?"
@ @ @
Viktor Krum gave a swift glance around Snape's cabin then pointed at one of the lockers. "The charts are in there." He picked up an armful of furs, dumped them unceremoniously on the floor and opened the locker. He pulled out a roll of parchment and spread it out on the table.
"Now ve can see vare ve are," he explained, sweeping his wand across the chart: glowing traces and symbols appeared. A gothic D hovered in the air, following the tiny image of a ship as it drifted infinitesimally slowly across the chart. "That is us," Viktor explained. "D for Durmstrang, you see?" He laid his finger on the edge of the chart. "And these, over here, are other ships. They do not concern us. Rocks, also. Ve must avoid those."
Intrigued, Snape bent to examine the chart more closely. He laid his finger beside Krum's, indicating a corkscrew-like symbol which twisted and changed colour as he touched it. "What is this?" he asked.
Viktor Krum snatched his finger away as though Snape's touch had burned it. "That –" he said, his voice husky. He coughed and continued – "That is a virlpool. Ve use them to go from von sea to another, or to a lake, or to a river, even. It is magic, of course."
He went on to explain that the Durmstrang ship had reached Hogwarts through just such a magic whirlpool, entering from a far-distant sea and emerging at the bottom of the lake. "And then ve rise up through your lake as you saw," he finished. "Now, ve must navigate to the virlpool vich vill take us to our home sea."
Viktor returned to the locker and rummaged among more rolled-up charts, eventually finding a battered old spellbook. He flipped through its pages, muttering to himself. "Ah!" he said at last. "I think this is the von." Snape watched him curiously as he walked back to the table, spellbook in one hand, wand in the other, a frown of concentration on his sallow face.
"Vot I haff to do," Viktor said, bending over the chart, "is to cast a Navigato spell from here–" he jabbed his wand at the simulacrum of the Durmstrang ship "–to here," jabbing it at one of the rotating whirlpool symbols.
He pored over the spellbook for a moment then carefully repeated the gestures, reading aloud from the book. A glowing line appeared connecting the ship to the whirlpool. Viktor nodded. "That is good. There should be a pointer up on deck now for the helmsman to steer by. I vill go up and check. If all is vell, ve can raise the sails and be on our vay."
With a jerky little nod to Snape, Krum laid the spellbook down on the table and left the cabin. Snape watched him go, his face inscrutable. Then he sighed, picked up the spellbook, and began to leaf through it.
Up on deck, Viktor Krum smiled with satisfaction as he saw a faintly glowing arrow hovering just forward of the ship's wheel. He swung the ship round until her bows lined up with the direction the arrow pointed. "Keep her on this heading," he said, relinquishing the wheel to Ivanisovich. "The arrow vill get brighter the closer ve come to the virlpool. Call me ven ve are nearly there – ve must take great care, strange things can happen."
Now that the rigging had been repaired and a navigation spell was in place, the Durmstrangs' mood lightened. The sails were soon hoisted and the ship resumed her journey. On and on she sailed, her wake streaming away aft, the deck swaying gently to the surge of the sea. All the while the arrow cast by the navigation charm grew steadily brighter.
The watch changed and changed again. At last the sea became agitated; they were approaching the periphery of the whirlpool.
"KRUM!" Ivanisovich bellowed, putting his full weight on the wheel to try and stay on course. "KRUM!!!"
With a sudden lurch, the ship entered the whirlpool. Plunging and spinning, it was sucked deeper and deeper. Ivanisovich and Krum hunched over the wheel: they were used to the strange distortions of space and time produced by the magic of the vortex between the seas; but sometimes its hallucinations took even them by surprise.
Down in his cabin Snape's world became surreal: colours bleeding from tapestried bulkheads; his shouts bouncing away into infinite echoes; a heavy pressure holding him to his bunk. Then a deep silence, stillness, dark eyes staring back into his own.
"Professor? Are you okay?"
Snape fought to catch his breath. "What happened, Krum?"
"Ve go down the virlpool okay, but there is a problem."
"Problem?"
"I think it vos the wrong virlpool..."
@ @ @
Krum added another chart to the growing pile on the floor. The tiny image of the Durmstrang ship did not appear on any of them. He glanced furtively across the cabin, but Snape was still absorbed in the navigation spellbook and did not look up.
Only one chart left. Krum spread it out on the table. Sleeves rolled up, he leaned with his arms braced on the table, eagerly scanning the final chart. A little moan escaped him and his shoulders slumped. Snape came to stand behind him and together they stared at the empty chart.
"Ve are lost," Krum said. "Ve are on none of our charts."
"Surely all we have to do is return through the whirlpool which brought us here," Snape said. "Then we will be on your original chart again and you can find the correct course."
"Ve are too far avay from the virlpool now," Krum said morosely. "I don't know vich vay to steer to get back to it. I haff flown my broomstick high above the mast, but could see no sign."
"There is a spell which may help us find the whirlpool we seek," Snape said slowly, his eyes fixed hungrily on Krum. "But it will involve certain...sacrifices...on your part." His hand slid slowly up Viktor's bare forearm. He thought back to those far-off days of his youth, with Regulus, when they first became lovers and were eager to exploit the magical properties of semen in any spell they could find.
Krum tensed, glowering down at the useless chart. "Vot do you mean?" he mumbled at last, casting a challenging look over his shoulder.
Snape tightened his grip on the youth's arm. Viktor Krum – brooding, suspicious, fiercely protective of his dignity – reminded Snape painfully of himself at eighteen. His mind went back to the last time he and Regulus had performed a similar spell. His body remembered it, too...
Krum seemed to sense some of this. "I am not your plaything!" he protested.
Snape's growing arousal made him impatient of Krum's scruples. He wanted the brat bent robeless over the table, his cock spilling cum in uncontrollable pulses, Snape's wand up his arse.
"Strip," he commanded hoarsely.
Krum wrenched his arm from Snape's grasp and backed away. "Tell me vot this spell of yours entails," he demanded.
"We called it our Seeking spell," Snape reminisced. "It was...appropriate, as he was a Quidditch Seeker." He looked sideways at Krum and smirked. "As you are, too, of course. I believe we can modify it to Seek the whirlpool."
"How?"
Snape ran his tongue over his thin lips.
"It uses semen. Your semen, in this instance. Spunk," he added, realising that Krum was confused. "The...emissions of passion."
Krum looked horrified. "Is there no other vay?"
"I could use one of your fellow students," Snape said coldly. "Poliakoff, perhaps. He would do anything for a glass of wine."
There was silence in the cabin apart from the occasional creaking of the ship's timbers. At last Krum said, "No. No, it vos my mistake vich got us here. I should be the von to suffer."
Krum took a deep breath. "So. How does this Seeking spell of yours find our vay back?"
"The first stage of the spell," Snape said, "is to establish a connection between your semen and the whirlpool we seek." He spread an unused parchment on the table then hunted through the pile of discarded charts on the floor. "This is the manifestation of the whirlpool we descended," he said, pointing his wand at their original chart. Using economical wand gestures Snape levitated the representation of the whirlpool from the chart, inverted it in mid air and then lowered it to hover point uppermost above the virgin parchment on the table.
"Now remove your clothes," said Snape. "All your clothes."
His fingers trembling, Krum undid his robes as Snape watched hungrily, wand at the ready. At last he was completely naked, his cock at half mast.
"Bend over the table," Snape commanded hoarsely.
Krum scowled at him and did not move.
Snape traced Krum's prick with the tip of his wand, stroking the shaft then delicately probing the slit.
"Bend. Over. The. Table."
Krum gave a little moan and complied. He was now as hard as Snape, who controlled himself with difficulty when he saw the tempting arse presented to him. He took a moment to calm himself, breathing deeply, then approached Viktor's pucker with his wand. He circled the rim several times then raised his wand and gestured towards the spinning image of the whirlpool. It lifted from its position on the table and swooped still spinning towards Viktor, enlarged itself, and wrapped itself snugly over the head of his cock. Viktor jerked uncontrollably and almost came then and there. Snape placed a soothing hand on his arse and murmured "Not yet."
He went back to circling the rim of Viktor's hole with his wand, then suddenly thrust it inside and twisted. Viktor shouted. Snape leaned forward, his greasy hair flopping over Viktor's naked shoulders, his arm pumping as he found Viktor's prostate again and again. The whirlpool symbol glowed red and tightened around Viktor's prick. His whole body shook and he spasmed into orgasm. Snape withdrew and with a delicate little flick of his wand conjured the whirlpool away from Viktor's throbbing prick. Strings of spunk came away with it and stretched across the parchment, joining Viktor's cock to the symbolic whirlpool. The spinning shape shrunk again and settled into its former position. The traces of cum leading to it sank into the parchment and took on a glowing appearance, very similar to the navigation tracks on the original chart.
Snape gave a hiss of satisfaction and plunged his wand back into Viktor's arse. Viktor slumped helplessly across the table, his cum pooling on the parchment.
"And – now," said Snape, punctuating each word with a thrust of his wand, "for – the – second – stage."
@ @ @
Viktor Krum stood shivering by the ship's rail, wand clenched in his chattering teeth. He wore nothing but skimpy swimming trunks. Snape smirked as he looked him lazily up and down.
"Remember, Krum: you must be sure to swim well clear of the ship first. Then your seaborne spunk will seek out the whirlpool and be reflected in the movement of the corresponding traces on our chart; that will show us which way to steer."
Viktor scowled at him. Removing his wand from his mouth, he muttered, "Suppose I – vot happens if I can't –"
"Just remember what I did to you down in the cabin," Snape said quietly, moving closer. "Remember being my...ah...bare-arsed needy slut." He gave Viktor a reinforcing pat on the bum, then stepped back.
Viktor stood for a moment, bare chest heaving, then replaced his wand between his teeth and dived overboard. Snape stayed by the rail until the bobbing black head was almost out of sight. Then he climbed to a vantage point halfway up the mast, cast a See-Me-Not spell to ensure privacy and took a magic spyglass from his pocket.
Soon he had a clear image of Viktor Krum; as instructed, the young man was floating on his back, his skimpy swimming trunks pulled down, his cock in his hand. As Snape watched, Krum took his wand in his other hand and with some awkward squirming and splashing succeeded in thrusting it up his own arse from below. The image clearly showed his lips moving; repeating the words of the spell Snape had taught him. But Snape didn't watch Viktor's lips for long; soon his avid gaze returned to the youth's cock. He hissed quietly to himself. What a gorgeous prick that boy had...
Snape could no longer contain himself. Keeping his spyglass trained on the furiously-wanking Viktor with one hand, his other hand buried itself in his robes and was soon mirroring the boy's actions on his own cock. He bucked his hips, imagining that glorious prick in his arse. He became so absorbed in his fantasy he almost lost his balance and fell to the deck.
At last the two came to climax; Krum far out in the sea, his watcher leaning spent against the mast. By the time Snape regained his composure and descended to the deck, Krum had almost got back to the ship. Willing hands helped haul him aboard as Snape walked slowly over.
Viktor Krum stood on the deck, exhausted, droplets of water running down his chest and following the black trail of hairs leading into his trunks. He pulled on a baggy Vratsva Vultures sweat shirt and nodded to Snape. He seemed aware that the balance of power had subtly shifted between them. Standing very close to Snape he said in an undertone only they could hear, "I know vot you vant and soon you vill be my bare-arsed needy slut." Snape's face, for once unguarded, gave himself away.
The moment passed. Snape's face became inscrutable again. "I should punish you for that, Mr Krum," he said, "but we have work to finish; come." And he led Krum below to his cabin.
The parchment streaked with traces of Viktor's cum still lay on the table. Snape magicked the first chart to hover above it. The whirlpool symbol, turning and twisting, formed a bridge between them. Spectral images of the Durmstrang ship began appearing and disappearing on the lower parchment.
"There is now a correspondence," Snape explained, "between your cum in the ocean and the traces of your cum on this new chart we have made." He tapped the lower parchment with his wand. The ghostly simulacrums of the Durmstrang ship coalesced into one; grew more solid. It was surrounded by glowing streaks which stretched out towards the whirlpool. "As your semen out there," he waved towards a porthole, "gets closer to the actual whirlpool, so these traces of it here," tapping the chart once more, "show the way to the whirlpool's representation. All you have to do now is repeat your Navigato spell."
Viktor looked doubtfully at Snape. "Are you sure this vill vork?"
Snape smirked. "If it doesn't, we can always try again until it does," he said softly. "And again...and again..."
Viktor threw him a dirty look, cast the spell, then went up on deck to see the result. He found his fellow students excitedly pointing at the familiar navigation arrow, reinstated near the ship's wheel. Poliakoff thumped Viktor on the back and called for a celebration. Soon the happy sounds of accordion music and singing floated up from below decks as the ship ploughed steadily on towards its goal.
@ @ @
It was night when they finally entered the whirlpool. Sensing the first ripples of distortion, Snape threw a cloak on over his nightshirt and staggered up on deck. He was intercepted by Krum.
"Professor, you should not be on deck. It is dangerous to be on deck ven ve go through the virlpool. Strange things can happen. There vill be some protection in your cabin. Come." He took Snape by the elbow and led him back down the companionway to his cabin. "This time I stay vith you."
They stood together in the centre of the cabin looking at the chart table. The whirlpool symbol joining the two charts had become like an hourglass with an elongated narrow waist. As they watched, the tiny image of the ship was drawn up into the lower bowl of the hourglass. The image continually changed shape, one minute short and squat, the next long and thin; one minute solid, the next transparent and ghostlike. Snape gave a muffled gasp and pointed to the outer wall of his cabin: it, too, appeared transparent and boiling seas seemed to be washing through the cabin.
Viktor put his arms around the older wizard. "It vill be all right," he said. They clung together as the cabin rocked and swayed; strange noises echoed all around and as the ship's simulacrum began to rise up through the waist of the hourglass, appearing impossibly elongated, they rose in the air and hovered as if someone had cast a levitation spell. Snape was simultaneously here and now with Viktor and back in a long gone springtime with Regulus, soaring high above the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Their noses bumped together as they kissed.
Viktor lifted up Snape's nightshirt and kissed his arse cheeks, his balls and finally his cock. Spinning in mid-air they stroked and sucked one another, a pornographic aerial ballet. As the ship attained the upper bowl of the hourglass they collapsed together onto the bunk. Viktor sprawled ungainly on top of Snape, thumbing urgently at his nipples, finding his arse with his cock.
Time seems stretched, all times at once, in the magic of the whirlpool: echoes of Severus's youth with Regulus Black keep recurring to him; he hallucinates that he is flying in pursuit of multiple Potters; all the time he is acutely aware of Viktor's cock in his arse.
Snape felt that in the eternity of the vortex his past, present and future were become one. All the happiness he would ever know was here in this cabin, with Viktor, whose steady thrusts measured out the increments of a different time...
At last things returned to normal. The echoes died away, the walls became solid and real. Across the cabin, the simulacrum of the Durmstrang ship was back on the correct chart.
Snape lay in Viktor's arms, feeling a rare moment of peace. Then the Dark Mark on his forearm gave a faint throb and instantly all the old conflict was back. Viktor seemed to sense this; he put his hand gently over the Mark. "There are bad things vaiting for you, ven you go back to England?" he asked.
"Oh," said Snape softly, "you have no idea..."
"Then vy go back?" Krum demanded. "Durmstrang needs a new Headmaster now. You haff powerful magic, more powerful than Professor Karkaroff. Vy don't you stay, be our Headmaster alvays, not just for this journey?"
There was a long silence. "If I could, I would," Snape said eventually.