Deep in the Shallows 1/2 SS/HP
Title: Deep in the Shallows part 1/2 complete Author: Eriador117 Pairing(s): Snape/Harry Rating: NC-17 Warnings (if any): AU. Harry is 13. Teacher/student. Mentions of canon character death (not Snape or Harry), brief mentions of child abuse. Summary: Wizarding apprentices are taught everything by their Master. Prompt: Dumbledore tells Severus to mentor Harry. Severus interprets that according to an ancient practice that Muggles would never understand. Author Note (if any): Written for the santas_lap fest. Beta'd by Rakina, thanks so much :) Word count: approx. 10,000 total JK Rowling owns the Potterverse, I just play in it from time to time.
Part 1
Harry thrust his muddy hands into the pockets of his robes, trying to surreptitiously rub them clean on the lining, but Snape was having none of it. "Potter! Come with me!" he ordered and he wasn't waiting for an answer.
Snape yanked Harry's left wrist from his pocket, still covered in mud, and dragged Harry down the spiral staircase to the dungeons, not releasing him for a moment. Snape's longer legs meant his stride was so much bigger than Harry's and Harry had to struggle to keep up with him, otherwise he feared he would have tumbled down the stairs.
Snape pushed his office door open and shoved Harry inside before locking and bolting the door.
"Sit!"
Snape pushed Harry to the chair by the teacher's desk. Snape leaned over him, his hands pressing on the back of the chair, effectively trapping Harry in it. "Your head was seen in Hogsmeade today, Potter. Your head doesn't have permission to be in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade!" Snape's face was flushed with anger and his eyes were glittering like wet coal as he stared down at Harry. Harry felt almost as if he could feel the wizarding power emanating from his teacher. Sometimes Snape gave the impression that he could read Harry's mind.
Harry opened his mouth, and then shut it again when nothing but a squeak emerged. Snape couldn't know. Not really. It was just coincidence that Snape had been standing by the exit to the one-eyed witch's passageway. But then again, the way Snape was looking so intently at him reminded Harry of all the times when he thought for sure that Snape must know. That he could see straight through Harry and down to all the secrets he thought he'd hidden so well.
"Don't bother to deny it, Potter. I know you were there! Have you any idea the lengths the Headmaster has gone to in order to protect you? And you throw it back in his face! Hogsmeade is crawling with Dementors and off you go just because you feel you're missing out! The Dark Lord has returned thanks to that stupid diary and you go haring off to Hogsmeade because you think you're like your friends! Sirius Black is on the loose ready to bring you to the Dark Lord as an offering and you are making it easy for him! Just how stupid are you, Potter?"
Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. Snape was right. How could he have been so foolish as to put his friends in danger like that? Sirius Black had murdered thirteen Muggles without a thought; was he really going to let schoolchildren stand in his way if he'd seen Harry? Ron and Hermione could have died and it would have been Harry's fault. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't need to lose any more of their children. Ginny had died and Voldemort had returned and it was Harry's fault.
"For once, the Headmaster and I are in perfect agreement concerning you. You need to be taken in hand and he has insisted that I am the best person for the job. I am to be your mentor."
"My what?" asked Harry, wishing Snape would move away from him. It was disconcerting having the man so close… Snape was so close their noses were almost touching. Harry was going cross-eyed trying to see the man's face.
"Really, Potter. Your vocabulary is sorely lacking if you do not even know what a mentor is!"
"No, sir, I don't," said Harry. He'd missed so much primary school due to the bruises and the stays in hospital that it was a wonder he could even read and write never mind anything else. Harry had never heard of the word before and had no idea of its meaning. He could never wield words with such precision as Snape.
"A mentor is someone who will help you to grow up and because it's you, I will also be helping to train you to defeat the Dark Lord. You do realise it's up to you, don't you, Potter?"
"Yes, sir. Dumbledore told me."
"Professor Dumbledore. Yes, the wizarding world's hope rests on your shoulders, thin though they are. I will be teaching you subjects that are not offered on the Hogwarts curriculum."
"Oh, you mean like how Professor Lupin is going to help me fight off Dementors?" asked Harry. The Defence professor had promised Harry some lessons for after the holidays. Harry shuddered as he remembered their cold, rattling breath and his mother's final screams...
"No, Potter. You will not be receiving any extra lessons from anyone other than me, especially not from that – from that man!" Snape sneered and leaned so close to Harry's face that Harry felt suddenly as if he couldn't breathe. Sweat prickled on the back of his neck and oh God, why was he getting hard now? It sometimes happened and he touched himself late at night in the dark, but he couldn't very well do that in front of Snape! Harry wished again the man would move away from him, but Snape wasn't moving. Harry shifted uncomfortably in the chair and swallowed rather loudly.
"These extra lessons are extremely sensitive, Potter, which is why you will tell no one about them. Not your little friends, not any of your other teachers. In order to make sure that you don't accidentally slip up and let it out by accident, I will bind you to me as my apprentice. For five years you will be under my tutelage and protection. An apprentice can never reveal his Master's secrets."
"Five years?" squawked Harry, wondering how he could even bear five hours in Snape's company.
"Yes, Potter. Five years. That is the traditional term of a wizarding apprenticeship. Professor Dumbledore has already approved it; all you have to do is sign the contract."
Finally, finally, Snape moved away, but he returned a few moments later bearing parchment, quills and ink. He set them down on the desk and turned it so that Harry could read it. "Read it and then sign it here," said Snape, pointing to a line at the bottom marked with a red 'X'. Snape was now standing behind him, breathing softly on the nape of Harry's neck, which was doing nothing to help diminish his arousal. Harry skimmed the contract and hastily scrawled his name at the bottom. Snape leaned over him in order to sign his own name and the parchment winked out of existence in a flash of golden light.
"Tonight will be your first lesson, Potter. Don't be late."
"No, sir," said Harry.
***
At eight o'clock on the dot, there was a knock on Severus' office door. Severus despaired sometimes at how easily Potter took things at face value. Mention that it was all approved and requested by the Headmaster and Potter had voiced no objections at all! He'd barely even looked at the contract he'd signed! Albus wanted Severus to mentor Harry. In everything. It was the everything that was giving Severus pause. How was he supposed to teach a thirteen year old sex magic? What was worse was that Severus had already had sexual fantasies about the boy but never in his wildest dreams had he thought Albus would give him the Potter boy to do with as he wished. He really should have been more careful what he wished for.
Severus had made Harry sign the traditional contract just in case the news ever got out, as the contract did specify that it was up to the Master what he taught his apprentice. Mind you, most apprentices were already of age when they took up their apprenticeship.
He opened the door and let the boy in. Potter stood in the middle of the floor, still wearing his Gryffindor colours. "Take off your robe and your tie, I don't want to see Gryffindor colours every night," said Severus. "Next time, don't even bother to wear them."
"We're having lessons every night?" Potter asked, his mouth agape. Pink lips looking like ripened strawberries stood stark against the paleness of his face. He'd always looked pale, which made his emerald eyes stand out so much more than they ever had in Lily's sunburnt face.
"Didn't you read the contract, Potter? Yes, we are having lessons every night. Any day now the Dark Lord could attack and you are nowhere ready to face him. Time is of the essence."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
Severus arched an eyebrow at him. Potter had never been this respectful to him in ordinary classes, but then Severus was usually baiting him into misbehaving so that he could see the angry flush on his cheeks. How many nights had he pleasured himself picturing the boy just like that?
"Sit down," Severus waved him into a chair and hovered over him. It was gratifying to see the way the boy flushed and his breathing got even heavier. "Tonight I am going to attempt to teach you Occlumency. Have you ever heard of it?"
"No, sir."
"Occlumency is a magical skill which will help shield your mind against external penetration. The Dark Lord is a skilled Legilimens. What this means is that he can control someone else's mind. He can send them false dreams or visions, drive them insane just by using his mind. We all know he has a particular interest in you so you will need to be able to defend against such forays. Occlumency will help you do this. Clear your mind, concentrate. I will attempt to penetrate your mind and you will attempt to push me out."
Severus removed his wand from his robe pocket and cast the spell at Potter.
"Legilimens!"
Merlin, it was too easy. Potter had no mental blocks in place at all! Most people had some basic shields even if they didn't exactly know what they were doing. There was nothing that prevented Severus from accessing every part of the boy's mind and he did just that, skimming memories here and there at random, as that was the way Potter's mind was organised. No discipline at all. That would also have to change soon.
Potter, high up in a tree while a dog barked madly beneath him; Potter, hiding under a bed; Potter, staring aghast as he saw Hagrid for the first time; Potter, in one of the school bathrooms, his hand wrapped around his cock, his back leaning against the door of the stall. Severus stopped and watched the rest of that memory unfold; he hadn't intended to be a voyeur tonight but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity that had presented itself.
Potter's prick wasn't exactly large, it was obvious the boy was never going to be tall, but it wasn't tiny either and from the breathy moans Potter was emitting in the memory, it was certainly giving him lots of pleasure. Potter's trousers and underwear were pushed down to his thighs; Severus could see clearly the outline of dark wispy hair around his groin although his thighs and his stomach were still quite smooth.
As Severus remembered being at thirteen, Harry was in a hurry to come. He grunted with effort; his hand flying so quickly over his cock that it was nothing but a blur. Potter bit his other hand when he started coming, so much seed flying out and at such a speed that some if it hit the wall opposite where Potter was standing.
Suddenly, Severus felt his head splitting in two as he was pushed from the memory.
"That's private!" yelled Potter; his angry flush returning. Severus wanted to lick his cheeks but reined in the urge.
"Exactly, Potter! Unless you want the Dark Lord to know all of your innermost secrets, you must control your emotions! Let nothing penetrate your mind at all!"
"How? You didn't tell me how!"
"It's instinctive! You're supposed to know how to clear your own mind, Potter!"
Potter slumped in the chair, sweat dripping down his face. When Severus glanced at the clock on the far wall of his office; he saw that over an hour had passed. No wonder the boy was sweating. The scent was intoxicating and Severus inhaled deeply. Watching Potter masturbate in the bathroom had left him feeling rather aroused himself.
Severus shook his head as if arguing with himself. "No, you're too young," he said softly.
"I'm not too young! What is it?" demanded Harry.
"There is something that we might use in order to help clear your mind, but it isn't very appropriate."
"What is it? I'll do it, I'll try!"
"Tell me, Mr. Potter, what is the extent of your knowledge about sexual matters?"
Harry blushed and stammered out. "Er … er. Not a lot really," he admitted.
Severus was surprised he'd even mentioned that. "In your memory, I saw you touching yourself."
"I'm sorry. I won't do it anymore. I know we're not supposed to."
"Not supposed to? Who told you that?"
"My … my uncle," said Harry softly. "He said I'd go blind or it would fall off if I kept doing that."
Severus snorted. "The man is a Muggle, Harry, and doesn't understand anything about magic. There is magic in sexual congress; there is normally more if two people are involved, but there can be a time for solo exploration as well. When you touch yourself, how do you feel? What are you thinking?"
Harry blushed even more at that, but wonder of wonders, he was answering the question. "I'm – I'm not really thinking about anything. Just how good it feels."
"Very well, then we will use that as a tool. Every night before you go to sleep I want you to masturbate and clear your mind. It should be become easier and easier each time you do it."
"Masturbate?" asked Harry with wide-eyed innocence.
"Like you were doing in the memory, touching yourself until you come."
"Oh," Harry breathed. "I didn't know it had a name."
Severus tried his best not to roll his eyes but it was difficult. He hadn't realised Harry would be such an innocent in sexual matters. How was he supposed to bring up the subject of sex magic when Harry didn't even know about normal sex?
"Our lesson is finished for tonight, Potter."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." The boy headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
Harry's eyebrows rose up. "Back to my dorm?" He said it as if even he wasn't sure.
"Potter, you didn't read that contract properly. For the next five years you will be staying with me, it is too dangerous for you in the dorms. How are underage wizards supposed to protect you if anything happens? You are under my protection now, Potter. You will be staying here."
Severus waved his wand at one of the shelves, which shimmered and disappeared, revealing the entrance to his private quarters. It was so tempting to take Harry straight to his bed, but Severus knew that Harry was nowhere ready for that yet, so he led Harry to the spare bedroom which until now had been used to house his extra books.
"Here is your room, Potter. I expect you to keep it clean and tidy at all times; I do not allow house elves in the dungeons except to collect laundry. I will collect your belongings tomorrow. For now, you can borrow one of my nightshirts." Severus accioed one to him and handed it to Potter. The boy's hands were shaking as he took it.
Potter was shocked speechless for a few moments.
"But, sir. My friends ... they're expecting me back."
"What? They'll think the nasty greasy git has done something to you? Not to worry, Potter. The Headmaster will tell your friends that are undergoing extra training and you will no longer be sleeping in the dorms. For the next five years this is your home. Get used to it."
"Won't I be going back to the Dursleys in the summer?"
"No. You're my responsibility now. You will never see those people again."
The tears that Severus had been expecting all evening began to fall then, but what was even more surprising was that Potter wrapped his arms around Severus' waist and thanked him!
"Thank you, sir. Thank you!" Harry sobbed.
"Bed," said Severus gruffly, having to stop himself from reaching out and caressing the messy hair.
***
"Ah, Harry, do come in," said the Headmaster, his blue eyes twinkling over the rim of his glasses. Harry sat down on one of the armchairs that dotted Dumbledore's study and felt himself sinking so far down that he was afraid he might have drowned in the stuffing. "As you know, with the attacks getting more and more frequent, I'm afraid we can't allow you to accept the Weasleys' invitation to stay with them over the Christmas holidays."
"I know, sir. I understand."
"That's very mature of you, Harry. It must still be disappointing though, not being with your friends."
Harry shrugged. Better he was disappointed that he couldn't spend Christmas with them than to have them murdered because he was staying there.
"Professor Snape has therefore asked me for permission to take you away for the holidays to his home. Since I know the wards on Snape Grange are as good if not better than those at the castle, I'm inclined to agree. You haven't been away from school for so long, Harry, I'm sure you could do with the change of scenery."
"Professor Snape wants me to spend Christmas with him? He never said anything about it."
"He wanted it to be a surprise."
"Oh!" Snape wanted to surprise him? That was ... unexpected. Nice even. But Snape didn't do nice, did he?
"How are your extra lessons with him going, Harry?"
"I can't really talk about them, Professor," said Harry, willing himself not to blush. He'd done what he'd been ordered to, masturbating every night before sleep and his Occlumency was improving. He'd had to improve quickly; otherwise Snape might have seen that Harry was having fantasies of the man while he did it! Their training didn't help stop that either. When they were duelling, sometimes Snape would stand behind him, holding his arm and correcting his stance and all Harry could think of was how those elegant fingers might feel touching him in other places. Private places.
Of course Snape never praised him except for the occasional, "Not as bad as it could be, Potter." In Harry’s mind this from Snape was like a pat on the back. Snape had taught him Occlumency, Legilimency and duelling, both wizard and Muggle, with lots of training in fencing and martial arts. There were spells that Harry was sure the Headmaster wouldn't approve of, but it wouldn't matter because he couldn't tell anyone about them. Harry knew deep down that to defeat Voldemort it was going to take more than a Cheering Charm or a Jelly-Legs Jinx, but he was still a little uncomfortable learning things that he suspected were Dark Arts.
"That's fine, Harry. Professor Snape has been keeping me apprised of your progress."
Oh, Harry should have realised that just because he wasn't allowed to divulge anything about their lessons because he was the apprentice, he should have realised that Snape wouldn't be held to the same magics as he was the Master and could probably do what he liked. Harry just hoped Snape wasn't telling the headmaster how Harry was getting so good at Occlumency.
"So would you like to spend Christmas at Snape Grange, Harry?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"Very well. I'll organise a Portkey for you both tomorrow." Dumbledore began writing something on parchment and Harry guessed that was his dismissal.
"Goodnight, Professor," Harry called back from the doorway.