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LONG: Thicker Than Water (Snape/Harry, NC-17)
Title: Thicker Than Water
Author: Amy (swtalmnd)
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Word Count: 4909
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, chan (11), manipulation, mpreg
Summary: Snape comes across Harry in a vulnerable moment, and devises a plan to tie Harry's loyalties to him.
Notes: For accioslash, for the Sweet Charity auction. Thanks to isidore13, adbaculum & clauclauclaudia for the beta love!


Snape walked the halls with stealth rather than his usual swoop, looking for out-of-bounds students too engaged in one another to notice one more shadow until it fell upon them and took points. He derived a certain satisfaction in knowing he was sending the boys back to bed with aching bollocks as well as the humiliation of having lost points and face in front of their girls. These days it was the only sort of satisfaction he got. He turned a corner and heard a high, piping voice, a First Year no doubt, the sound drifting up from under the doorframe of an unused classroom. Severus slipped inside quietly, only to find Harry Potter sitting on the floor, talking to himself. Or, as Severus divined with a few moments of listening, Harry talking to whatever images he saw in the Mirror of Erised before him.

Snape's chest contracted painfully as he listened further, to Harry's young voice telling earnest stories of his life as a wizard, steeped in the wonder of it, to parents he couldn't remember and would never see again. In that moment, Snape saw the life Harry had really had, and not the one Snape imagined for him, and found it far too close to his own for comfort.

"And then the snake talked back!" Harry was saying excitedly. "And even though I got in trouble 'cos it made Dudley look like an idiot, it was still brilliant. Can all wizards talk to animals, Dad?" He reached a hand out toward the images and then pulled back, as if he'd already learned how painful it could be to touch glass instead of warm flesh. "Only, it was just that once, really, so I suppose it isn't..."

Snape drew himself up to his full height and interrupted the flow of words. "Mr. Potter."

Harry's head whipped around and he gasped, flushing a brilliant scarlet. "S- Professor!" he said, scrambling to stand, his cloak left in a puddle where it had fallen around him while he sat.

"You look chilled," Snape found himself saying, as a plan began to form in the back of his mind, a way to tie this child's affections and loyalty to him, and perhaps give them both what they might need to survive an uncertain future. It would be underhanded and morally grey, but if it worked, it would also be worth it. He swooped forward and gathered up cloak and boy both, finding them to be much lighter than he'd expected. "Come with me," he said unnecessarily, holding the unresisting body as he stalked out and down to his own quarters.

Harry didn't stay unresisting for long, wriggling and pushing at him as soon as he figured out that they were headed downward, rather than up to the Headmaster's office. "I can walk!" he protested, though there was something weak about it and his struggles, as though he was loath to give up the comfort of being held, even by someone he loathed as much as Snape.

Promising, indeed.

"Nonsense," said Snape. "It will be much faster if I carry you." He paused, then added with a note of concern, "You're nothing but skin and bones, I shall have to have the house elves bring us up something warm."

Harry went still again, whether in acquiescence or shock at Snape's kindness. "You're being nice," he said suspiciously, as they descended further.

Snape brought them to a stop in front of a suit of armour. "I would like to enter, and Harry Potter is my guest until I say otherwise," said Snape.

"Very good, Professor," said the armour, stepping to one side so they could go through the door behind it.

Snape set Harry down on the loveseat in front of the merrily burning fireplace, then took a pinch of Floo powder and called down to the kitchens. A house-elf head popped up in the fire and squeaked. "What can Squirtle be doing for Professor Snape, sir?"

"I would like a warm snack for two, and the purple potion in the crystal vial from my warded stores," said Snape.

"Squirtle will be doing these things for Professor Snape right away!" he said, and then disappeared from the fire.

"You're really going to feed me?" said Harry incredulously.

"I am going to feed you, and give you a potion as well," said Snape. "It should help you put on some weight," he added, feeling a slight twinge of guilt at the misleading statement.

"Not like Dudley, though?" said Harry dubiously, already beginning to relax in Snape's presence.

"I think not," said Snape, assuming the correct answer from context, a talent he'd had to learn in much more dire circumstances.

Harry nodded and relaxed further. "That's all right, then." He bit his lip and then ploughed forward, as was his wont, asking, "Are you going to take points? For the mirror?"

Snape sat down on the loveseat with him, which made him tense back up, though not as much as before. "No, Harry, I do not intend to punish you for wishing to have your family back, though," he said, thinking to the things he'd heard about that mirror, "you might be wise to look for other ways to make your own family. The Mirror of Erised can be as addictive as the strongest drugs, if one forgets that yearning is not the same as having."

Harry blinked, and then nodded, sighing. "Yes, sir," he said glumly. "But how can I make a family?"

Snape swallowed, resisting the urge to lay it out right then. He paused to think it over and find the optimum answer for someone like Harry, who would likely find Snape's approach too mercenary. "You are already building a family here, are you not?" he asked, thinking of the way he'd been inseparable from the youngest Weasley since the start of term.

"I s'pose," said Harry. "But that's not the same thing."

"I suppose," said Snape, as a small table appeared before them, laden with warm comfort foods, hot cider, tea and, of course, the tiny phial of potion, "but the time has passed for you to find new parents. You're on your way to becoming a man already."

Harry snorted, but he accepted the cup of steaming cider Snape pressed into his hands readily enough, wrapping his hands around it before he drank. Snape remembered that feeling of always being colder than the people around him, and he resolved to make sure Harry had properly insulated clothing, once it was up to him.

For now, he wrapped Harry's shoulders in a bit of his own outer robe, letting the warming spells on it work their way into Harry's bones.

"Thank you," said Harry, his voice small, as though he didn't want to draw attention to the kindness for fear it would be taken away. It was a feeling with which Snape was intimately familiar.

"You are welcome, Harry," said Snape, rubbing Harry's shoulder, then summoning a plate and piling treats on it. "Do you mind sharing?" he asked, pretending that he didn't want to juggle too many things, plates and cups and utensils and no good place to set anything down.

"No, sir," said Harry, scooting just a touch closer. "It's really all for us?"

"You should know by now that Hogwarts is unstinting when it comes to food, at least," said Snape, concentration outwardly on the minor charms he was using to make himself a cup of tea.

"It's always cold here, though," said Harry, in that same small voice. He took a pasty and scooted a little closer, until he was just barely not touching Snape.

"I have found it to be so," said Snape, sipping his tea with pleasure. He made sure the plate would levitate between them safely and then eased his arm around Harry, closing that last tiny gap. "My clothing is all insulated with charms to keep me the correct temperature, though the cooling charms get little use."

Harry was chewing, eyes big as he took in this idea along with the equally amazing fact of a Snape who was kind and even affectionate to him. He swallowed enough to speak and asked, "Do clothes like that cost a lot?"

"They last long enough to be worth the expense," said Snape. "For someone your age, there are simpler versions that will grow a size or two with you, and warm but not cool, or vice versa."

"Wow," said Harry, nibbling on his pasty thoughtfully.

Snape took a sip of his tea and returned the cup to its floating saucer, then snagged a small, warm spice cake from the plate. The house elves had long ago figured out that catering to his sweet tooth wouldn't make him fat, given the way stress burned off the sugar, and thus supplied him with all the treats a man could want.

Snape looked down at Harry's tousled head, and thought perhaps there was one more treat he could have for himself.

"Ready for that potion?" he asked, gently rubbing Harry's shoulder. It would need some time to work, time which he'd use to advance his plan to the next stage.

Harry shrugged and finished off the pasty, washing it down with big gulps of cider. "S'pose so."

"Now," said Snape, levitating it over, "this will feel a little odd to you in your belly, but just let it do its work." He handed the vial to Harry expectantly.

"At least there isn't much of it," said Harry with a shrug. He downed the sweet, thick liquid, licking his lips and looking pleased at the flavour. "That was better than most."

"Thank you," said Snape with a chuckle. "More cider?" he asked, returning the vial to the table. The house elves would clean it and return it to the appropriate cupboard.

"Please, sir," said Harry, holding out his cup.

"I think," said Snape, levitating the pitcher over and pouring it himself, "that perhaps if we're going to be friends, you should call me Severus." He paused, meeting Harry's shocked gaze, and added, "If you wish to be friends, that is."

"I thought you hated me," said Harry suspiciously.

"It seems we were both mistaken," said Snape, as close as he'd get to admitting to his earlier rancour.

Harry bit his lip, then asked, "So why're you doing this?"

Snape sighed, but he answered truthfully, knowing the boy would ferret out the answer eventually, given a chance. "When I saw you at the mirror, and heard you talking, I was reminded very much of another young boy, and was surprised to find it was myself and not James Potter."

"You were like me?" asked Harry, bemused.

"Well," said Snape, "not precisely like. I had parents, though my father cared as little for me as I suspect your guardians do for you, and I tended toward the antisocial rather than being so eager to be in everyone's good graces."

Harry laughed, the sound more open and innocent than anything Snape had made, back in those days or since. "I can see that, I suppose," said Harry, snuggling up closer to Snape. "Severus, huh?"

"Severus," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "Have a sweet."

"You're going to spoil me," said Harry, sounding not at all unhappy about the prospect. He chose a fairy cake, the wings flapping lazily and dusting Harry's nose with powdered sugar.

Snape snorted. "Not so much that you'll forget yourself in class, I trust," he said, though in truth if this plan worked as he hoped, he might put up with it even there.

Harry looked up at him, and then shrugged. "You'll see," he said teasingly, and then he got a shifty look before leaning up to press a shy kiss to Snape's cheek.

Snape blinked. "What was that for?" he asked, finding himself confused this time, though not unpleasantly so.

"Wasn't that okay?" asked Harry, suddenly afraid.

Snape leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's forehead. "It was more than okay, Harry," he said, looking at the fear and uncertainty in Harry's face and remembering how he'd felt, trying to wend his way through social niceties that seemed alien and inexplicable to him as a boy, and still did, sometimes.

Harry wriggled again, then made a face and said, "Urgh, I think the potion's working." He set down the remains of his fairy cake and leaned into Snape with a sigh.

"It will be good later," promised Snape, sending the food and drink away and pulling Harry up into his lap, cradling him while his body dealt with the potion's changes.

Harry shivered, cuddling closer, burrowing into Snape's warmth. Snape opened his coat, letting Harry get deeper into the warming charms, and cocooned them both in his outer robe. Harry whimpered and snuggled up, all traces of the brash, earnest boy he'd been stripped away by Snape's unexpected kindness and his own discomfort. "It's makin' me feel bad, Sev'rus."

"Bad how?" asked Snape. If things went wrong, he'd have to be patient enough to brew the potion anew and try again another day.

Harry clung tighter, voice muffled against Snape's chest. "Naughty bad. I'm not s'posed to get like this."

Snape blinked as comprehension dawned, and had to hold back a chuckle. "I don't think that's the potion, Harry, and it's not bad to feel that way. It's natural."

"But you're a man!" said Harry, shivering again. "Isn't it disgusting an' unnatural?"

Snape kissed the top of Harry's head and said softly into his hair, "No, Harry. If it's genuine feeling, then it's good." He stroked Harry's back and arms in their little nest of warmth, and soon enough Harry uncurled a little, face peeking up at Snape curiously.

"It doesn't bother you that I'm..." Harry searched for a word he could use, and Snape imagined the epithets he had to choose from. Foolish Muggle prejudice was no more new to him than it was to Harry, after all.

"Only if you mind that I am, too," said Snape. He shifted them so that Harry was straddling him, the boy's small erection pressing against his own, much larger one. He'd been concerned he might not be able to perform if Harry protested, but Harry's timid confession had put paid to that one worry, at least.

"Oh!" said Harry, wriggling his hips in a positively obscene manner. "But isn't it bad, 'cos you're a teacher?"

"Do you feel forced?" asked Snape reasonably. "Do you think I'll go any easier on you in potions, if we were to become lovers?"

Harry squeaked in surprise, burying his face in Snape's chest again, though his hips kept rocking of their own accord. "Lovers?" he said.

Snape allowed his petting to grow bolder, cupping the boy's arse and teasing his body rather than comforting. "If that is what you wish," he said, feeling a surge of triumph that Harry had brought it up himself, in a way, and absolved Snape of the onus of seducing a student. Not that he wouldn't have, but this was much better.

Now there would be nothing they could do to take the boy from him, so long as Harry didn't want to go.

"How could you want me?" asked Harry, and Snape tensed, worried he'd disgusted Harry by not waiting until the boy was older. "I'm ugly an' scrawny."

Snape felt a different sort of tension coil in him, anger seeping in along with the rest. "No, Harry, you're not," he said, tilting up Harry's chin and looking into those needy green eyes. "You've got your mother's eyes," he said helplessly, and kissed Harry's soft lips.

Harry let out a small noise and kissed back, and in that moment they were both lost. Harry's arms wound around his neck, and his own hands found their way into Harry's clothing, until he could cup and stroke the small, hard cock and barely-furred balls, urging Harry to find the release they both needed.

"Oh, oh, I, oh!" gasped Harry, his hips bucking up as he came, small spurts that were enough to reassure Snape of his physical readiness. The rest would come eventually, and in the meantime, he would become Snape's irrevocably.

"You're so lovely like that, Harry," said Snape, rubbing the fluid into Harry's soft skin.

Harry blushed fetchingly, eyes dazed from the unexpected pleasure of it. "S'good. Better'n. Um. You know," he said, tucking his face in the crook of Snape's neck. A small hand came to rest over the bulge of Snape's cock, still trapped in his trousers. "Should I?"

Snape licked his lips; he'd best go slowly, but not too slowly, if he wanted to act while the potion was most effective. "I would like to take you to my bed, Harry," he said, a gentle suggestion when he wanted to make it an order.

"For more nau- um. Lover stuff?" said Harry, his voice thick and languid.

Snape smiled. "Yes, Harry, to make love."

"Will it feel as good as this?" Harry asked, writhing against Snape in a way that was decidedly not innocent.

Snape's smile grew smug. "Oh, better," he assured Harry. He stood, careful to keep Harry in his arms, the boy wrapping himself around Snape helpfully this time, nuzzling at Snape's neck.

"Better's good," said Harry trustingly.

Snape took him to bed before he could change his mind.

Snape laid Harry out and divested him of his clothing, then tucked him away between spell-warmed sheets before he had time for embarrassment or chill. "I'll join you in a moment," Snape assured Harry, moving away just long enough to strip out of his own clothes and summon a pot of unguent, a neutral base he used for certain medicinal salves that would serve admirably here. Sliding between the sheets, he gathered Harry's small body close and tamped down the surge of guilt at how very small Harry was.

He'd be sure to take every precaution with Harry's health, now and throughout the months to come, even after they were a family no one could deny. Results were more important than arbitrary morality, or so his Slytherin side believed.

Snape pushed those thoughts away and gave Harry a sweet kiss as a balm to them both. "Is this all right?" he asked, hands back to soothing, giving Harry the chance to get used to the idea of them together, naked and wanting, as men rather than student and teacher. Though he would be teaching in this too, it was a far more personal sort of education.

Harry nodded against his shoulder, then strained upward for another kiss. "It's so warm," he said quietly, one small hand roaming bravely over Snape's chest. Ever the Gryffindor.

"Skin always feels so warm," agreed Snape, pressing the length of their bodies together. That wandering hand made its way down to Snape's erection, petting it like a small animal, curious and gentle.

"It's even warmer here," said Harry, expression gone sly as he ran his fingers over Snape's sensitive anatomy. He closed his hand and stroked, just up by the head, running his thumb through the fluid that welled up there and proving he had at least some experience at this, if only with himself.

Snape chuckled and stroked his own hand down to Harry's pert arse, fingers seeking the heated crease. "You're very warm here," he teased, rubbing at the dry, tight little pucker with one long finger.

Harry let out a little sound of surprised pleasure and then bit his lip. "Isn't it dirty there?" he protested, though his hips were honest, pressing back wantonly into Snape's touch.

"No more than here," said Snape reasonably, using his other hand to explore Harry's renewed erection. Ah, the joys of youth.

Harry giggled, and pressed a kiss to Snape's mouth. "How do lovers do it?" he asked, cocking his head. "When it's both boys, I mean."

Brave as a lion, and ready to rush in, was his Harry. "I will open your body for me here," said Snape, rubbing just a little harder, feeling the muscle relax and soften under his ministrations, "and then when you are begging for it, I will put this inside you," he said, putting his other hand over Harry's on his cock.

"Does magic make it fit?" asked Harry, eyes going wide.

Snape chuckled and shook his head. "No, though I will use a little bit to make sure you're really ready, because of the difference in our sizes," he said. "Muggle men do this as well, and it only takes patience and care."

"Ohhh," said Harry, already distracted by the play of Snape's fingers over his bollocks, and the continuous rubbing against his sensitive entrance.

"I'm going to put my finger in you now, love, are you ready?" he asked, moving his hand away just long enough to dip in the pot of unguent. The stuff was thick and slippery, coating his finger thoroughly. A good choice, for a boy's first time.

"It'll feel good, really?" asked Harry, though once again he was pressing back into the caress as Snape slid his finger around and over the tiny-seeming pucker.

"I promise," said Snape. He kissed Harry, lingering over it this time, though most of his attention was on the slow inward press of his finger and the way Harry's body opened up and seemed to suck him inside. Some of that was the unguent, but some of it was Harry's natural sensuality, the way his whole being seemed to crave affectionate touches the way a plant craved sunlight.

Harry moaned into the kiss and then pressed up, kissing him harder, mouth open and inviting. Snape got his finger inside up to the second knuckle and then forced himself to go still, instead slipping his tongue between those parted lips and coaxing Harry's into a clumsy dance. "Good?" he asked, moving his finger in tiny thrusts as the kiss broke and left Harry panting and pleasantly dazed.

Harry smiled, bright and innocent. "Weird," he said, rocking his hips to get more of Snape's finger, thighs spreading of their own accord, "but good."

Snape rolled onto his back so that Harry could sprawl atop him, letting his own hips rock just to feel the way his cock pressed into Harry's soft belly. He silently cast the spells that would clean and relax Harry even further, using his finger and the magic-ready salve to help channel them, relieved when he felt the tight entrance grow slack around his finger. "More?" he asked, pulling out to coat two long fingers with the clinging salve.

"Oh, yes," sighed Harry, undulating on top of Snape in a way that threatened to end the whole affair early.

Another quick, silent spell staved off the pleasure, but Snape could already tell that Harry would be a wonderfully open and demanding lover. He concentrated on kissing Harry senseless while his two fingers worked their way deeply into the tight channel, feeling the way the silken walls grasped at his fingers every time he pulled away. "You're so good at this," he said, faint praise when he was already working in a third finger, Harry's small body opening readily to accept him.

"Feels good," said Harry, putting one hand on Snape's cheek to bring his face back in range for more kisses.

Snape allowed himself a moment of smugness, that he had reduced Harry Potter to this rutting, wanton creature, but he didn't let it last. There was more at stake than Harry's dignity or his own, and if he had his way then Harry would never think of this as anything but natural, and would never have another person see him this way to tell him different. "So good," said Snape between kisses, dropping other words of praise and affection, and watching as each one set a glow in Harry's face that was different than the flush of pleasure.

True to his word, Snape kept up the fingering long past when he might have moved on to the next stage, his other hand now teasing at the rest of Harry, the dip of his spine and the peaks of his nipples, the jut of a hipbone and the sensitive line of his throat. "Please," said Harry at long last, arse thrusting back shamelessly onto Snape's hand, "please, I wan' be lovers, please!"

"As promised," said Snape, though he wasn't sure Harry could remember two seconds ago, let alone twenty minutes. He pulled his fingers away and helped Harry to sit up on his thighs, then made a show of coating his cock thoroughly in the slick salve. "Do you want this, Harry?" he asked, holding his cock up so it was a pillar rising from the plain of his body, ready and waiting.

Harry nodded, scooting forward to steal a kiss and gasping when his own cock was enfolded in a slick hand. "I do, Sev'rus, please," he said.

Snape felt a surge of triumph, and he rolled them over so that Harry was beneath him, thighs splayed wide and nothing but trust and need in the green eyes that stared up at him. "I want you very much, Harry," he said, positioning his cock at the slick, hungry little entrance. "Push back against me when I push in."

"Yes, oh yes," said Harry recklessly, pulling his knees up to his chest to bare himself further to Snape's attentions.

Snape made another promise to himself to encourage this innocent wantonness, and watch that he didn't destroy it himself with a single ill-advised insult. "Beautiful," he said instead, pressing forward until his full length was buried in Harry's welcoming arse.

Harry was too distracted to contradict him, fortunately.

Given the freedom that Harry's youthful flexibility allowed, Snape leaned in and kissed his gasping mouth, drinking the small cries that fell from his lips. "Better?" he asked, rocking their whole bodies together, not so much a thrust as a comforting wave of motion, soothing and arousing at once.

"So much better," said Harry, grinning up at Snape. He wound his arms around Snape's neck and kissed him again, not seeming to mind one bit that he was nearly folded in half and speared on his once-hated Professor's cock.

"Much, much better," said Snape, kissing him again. He began to thrust, letting the triumph of his plans add to the euphoria of taking Harry's innocence, and planting a much more fertile seed in the ground he now ploughed. Harry was so much sweeter than he'd imagined, starved for touch and warmth, eager to learn whatever lesson Snape might wish to teach him, so long as there was pleasure involved. If he could watch his tongue around the boy, keep his temper and keep giving Harry the affection he so clearly craved, then he would truly have what he had hoped for.

Harry agreed with Snape in the way of those making love, with cries of, "Yes, oh, yes!" and other such nonsense. He rocked his hips up into each of Snape's thrusts, straining with every part of him for more pleasure, more heat, more love.

"Mine," said Snape, his own voice low and rough where Harry's was high and clear.

Harry's cries grew less coherent as Snape's thrusts became harder, faster and more erratic. He slipped a hand between their bodies and stroked the small cock, sweat and salve slicking his way. It didn't take long before Harry was shuddering and bucking under him, little cock jumping in his hand as the wet warmth spread between both their bellies.

Snape wasn't far behind, a few more thrusts and he let himself go, spilling into the waiting cavern of Harry's body. He felt the magic catch, carrying his seed where it was needed and creating something that would tie them together more surely than affection or need, or even pleasure. "Harry, my Harry," he said, stroking the sweaty brow, holding Harry close and staying inside him, giving the magic a chance to take root in Harry's small body.

"Your Harry?" he asked, licking kiss-bruised lips and blinking up at Snape with perfect trust.

"My Harry, for always," said Snape, a promise to them both.

Now that they had made a life together, no one would take Harry away from him.

Harry yawned and cuddled against Snape's chest, barely more than a child despite what Snape had told Harry earlier. "Always sounds nice," he said with a sigh.

Snape pulled out and summoned a warm flannel, cleaning them both carefully. "Would you like to sleep here tonight?" he offered, a safe bet considering the languor in Harry's expression.

"You won't be in trouble?" Harry asked, already snuggling back up.

Snape smiled, holding him close. "No, Harry, I'll be fine."

"Good," said Harry, yawning again. A bit more snuffling and shifting and he was asleep, curled trusting as a kitten against Snape's side.

Snape stayed awake a while longer, planning ahead to the potions he'd need to brew to make sure Harry was strong enough, the excuses he'd need to buy the boy clothes for warmth and to disguise the pregnancy, how he'd manage to keep Harry over the summer when their child would be due. Snape had hatched this plan in a moment of recklessness, but now that he held their future in his arms, in Harry's body, he knew he'd do anything to make it work.