The
Last on the List
February 1, Present Year
Severus Snape sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall, filling his plate with the usual assortment of meats designed to give a man a heart attack. Since Voldemort had failed to kill him, instead dying himself at the hands of Harry Potter, a seventeen year old boy with an everlasting lucky streak, Severus had made this cholesterol rich diet his morning ritual. Severus had decided that since his "Master" had failed to destroy him, he'd manage it himself.
Now that his job as a double agent was over, and the Ministry of Magic had cleared him of all wrongdoing --something Severus felt he did not deserve, considering the extent of his crimes -- he had nothing left. He did not enjoy teaching the art of Potions to a bunch of dunderheads with no appreciation for the subtlety, he did not want the attentions suddenly bestowed upon "War-Hero-Snape", and he most definitely did not want to deal with the flock of girls who had decided that he, Severus, was shaggable.
When the owl arrived, interrupting his greasy breakfast, Severus gave it his most dangerous glare, the one usually reserved for Neville Longbottom, to scare it off. The bird, however, was not to be frightened from its task. Landing next to Severus' glass of pumpkin juice it stretched its leg toward the Potions master, offering a large red envelope.
Severus, assuming it was another Howler from the parents of an "abused" Gryffindor, calmly unstrapped the letter, glowered at the owl, and left the table. He stalked quickly, just short of running (Severus Snape does not run for ANYONE!) to his dungeon rooms. Once locked safely inside, he opened the ominous envelope far from his body, bracing himself for the onslaught of insults that were sure to pour forth.
Nothing happened. Severus relaxed visibly, peered at the letter distrustfully, and slowly drew it closer to his body. Holding the envelope by one corner, he slipped out the parchment contained inside.
To his utter horror, the letter he now held was equally as red as the envelope, and sprayed with a floral mixture of lavender and morning glories. Carefully unfolding the offending parchment, Severus read:
Roses are
red,
Violets are blue,
Potions are gross,
I love you.
It was, thankfully, unsigned. Obviously the work of some infatuated first year. Severus groaned, having no clue as to how to deal with student crushes. To his knowledge, until the final battle against Voldemort, no student save Draco Malfoy had dared to fancy him. Somehow he didn't believe he could deal with this student in the same manner he had handled Draco; corporal punishment was illegal unless it happened to be your cousin's son.
With a resigned sigh, Severus made himself comfortable in his favorite armchair and burned the unwelcome token of affection in the magical fireplace. Bloody Valentine's Day, bloody owls, and bloody students, he growled to himself.
February 4, Present Year
Severus stormed into his sitting room, locking and silencing his chambers over his shoulder with a wave of his wand. He tossed the books he had been carrying on the table and headed to the liquor cabinet. Topping off a tall glass of firewhiskey, he drained half of it in one go, refilled the glass, and took to his favorite chair.
Oh, the humiliation. All day Severus had been attacked by owls bearing lacy, smelly, red envelopes. Each letter had contained more embarrassment than the last. Then, during his last class, seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors, came the worst one yet. Instead of owl post, this tormentor had chosen delivery by a squeaky house-elf; a house-elf that, unfortunately, thought it could sing. By the time Severus had gathered enough wits about him to cast a simple silencing spell the creature had been halfway through the second verse of a Muggle monstrosity called "Dr. Feelgood." Severus certainly did not feel good, not after such an embarrassing display. In front of Draco, no less; the boy was practically Severus' son.
Glass empty, Severus refilled it and sat, staring into the fireplace that burned year round. He would not survive this stupid holiday.
February 9, Present Year
Completely exhausted, Severus let himself into his chambers, intent on curling into his bed and pretending he didn't exist. However, as he passed by his favorite chair, he noticed a figure crouched there.
"Potter," Severus spat, "is there any particular reason that you're hiding in my private chambers?"
"Yes," was the insufferable brat's only response.
"Well?"
"I guess I'm hiding from the same thing you are," mumbled the young man, gesturing to an obscenely large pile of Valentine's that Severus had yet to destroy.
"Poor Potter," Severus started sarcastically, "having to hide from his adoring fans . . ."
"Don't," Potter said threateningly.
"Don't what, precisely? Don't pity the pathetic bastard you've become? Don't mock the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Spite-Me? Or perhaps don't . . ."
This was as far as Severus got before he felt a lightening bolt of pain caused by a fist connecting with his jaw. In his shock, all he could do was stare, mouth agape at the boy-no, man-he'd finally pushed too far; the man currently standing in front of him looking more menacing than Voldemort could ever manage.
"I didn't ask for this, you know," Potter ranted. "This is something I was born into. It's not like I deliberately joined the Death Eaters, got scared, and ran back to Dumbledore for protection."
That snapped Severus out of his shock. "How dare you! How DARE you presume to know my situation? I did NOT deliberately join Voldemort. He approached me, and at that time, if you refused the Dark Lord, you died instantly. I had no choice, no other options. Yes, I did run to Dumbledore, but only because I figured something useful might as well come from my unfortunate fate."
"Sod off, Snape! It's not like you bloody well care about anyone or anything besides your precious Slytherins and your disgusting potions. Forget it."
Potter was halfway to the door by the time Severus caught him. "Forget what?"
Harry looked back, temporarily dazed by Severus' obsidian eyes, dancing dangerously in a field of white. He shook it off, leered at his professor, and stated flatly, "I thought that maybe you and I understood each other. Apparently, I was wrong. Never mind."
A couple more long strides saw Harry to the exit, where he made his escape before Severus could manage a suitable reply.
February 10, Present Year
It was after midnight; Severus was sitting against the headboard of his four-poster bed, contemplating the odd conversation he'd had with Potter only a few hours ago. Why would the prat think that they understood one another? They had never gotten along, not even when forced to work together by the Order. The best they had ever managed was mutual scowling with barely concealed dislike boiling close to the surface.
It was dislike, perhaps even hate. Severus would never have any other feelings for a Potter. Not since James . . .
February 14, Valentine's Day, Severus' 7th year at Hogwarts**
"Hey Snape! Meet me under the Quidditch stands at lunch; I have something for you."
James had been alone when he made the offer, and Severus had believed him. After all, it had been James who had saved him from the werewolf that's always trailing after Black. Sure James was engaged to Lilly Evans, but that didn't mean he wanted to be. Perhaps his parents were pressuring him to find a nice witch, settle down, and start a family. Severus' parents were trying to convince him to do the same thing.
So Severus had gone. He'd arrived to find Potter, Black, and Lupin standing side by side, as if hiding something. Scared, but too proud to back down, he had advanced on the trio, prepared to face whatever they were planning.
"Look here," Black taunted. "If it isn't the dirty little homo." Black turned to address Potter, who was laughing. "I think he came to see what you were going to give him, Prongs."
Then the werewolf chimed in, drawing his attention from the other two. "Did you think Prongs would let you shine his knob, queer? Maybe you even thought he'd take you for a ride? Is that it? Do you want him to fuck your greedy little bum?"
As Lupin continued with his mindless slander, Potter and Black had slipped behind Severus. Before he even realized it, Severus' arms were pinned behind his back. As he writhed futiley, trying to escape, Lupin joined in the fray. Together the Marauders pushed Severus to his knees and locked his legs apart by chaining each ankle to a separate post. Severus was now bound, kneeling with his legs spread apart and his hands behind his back in the perfect gesture of submission, had he been capable of realizing it.
Black, always having to be the center of attention, stepped up to him first. "You like that, queer? You know you do. Something's wrong, though."
"He's still dressed," Potter reminded his sadistic friend.
"Ah, yes. Well,
we'll take care of that." Whipping out his wand, Black cast a quick
spell, unraveling Severus' clothes; the tattered remains scattering in the wind.
Black circled Severus slowly, admiring his prize. After a couple of laps, he stopped behind the bound wizard, kneeling close to the naked, trembling man. With warm hands callused from Quidditch, Black slapped Severus hard on the arse . . . first one cheek, then the other. He repeated his actions, slapping harder each time, until Severus began to groan in protest.
Lupin, also on his knees, crawled up in front of Severus. He covered the groaning mouth with his own, forcefully stifling the noises. As his tongue explored the warmth of their prisoner's mouth, Lupin's hands went lower, grasping the limp cock too tightly. Holding the pale meat, he shoved the foreskin back, giving him access to the mushroom head of Severus' cock.
Potter slid between Lupin's spread thighs so that he was lying underneath both the werewolf and Severus. With his face inches from Severus' anus, he stuck his tongue out, forcing the tip into Severus' puckered opening. The protesting moan from their captive encouraged Potter to bite and suck the hole alternately, keeping Severus in pain and off balance.
With Lupin pressing against the head of his cock, Potter torturing his hole, and Black slapping his arse, Severus grew hard. He tried desperately to will his erection away; humiliated that he was turned on by the abuse he was suffering.
Potter lifted his head up just enough to force his tongue all the way into Severus' entrance, making him scream into Lupin's mouth. He worked his tongue in and out, sliding around, searching for the right spot. When he hit it, he felt Severus pushing down, working against his restraints in an attempt to get more.
Pleased that their toy was fully hard, Lupin stood up, threw off his robe and unzipped his trousers. Pushing the pants just over his hips, cock inches from Severus face he commanded, "Suck me, slut. Swallow my prick whole."
Severus wanted to comply, but he barely managed the head of Lupin's swollen cock. He felt as if he couldn't breath.
Lupin, unhappy at their pet's disobedience, grabbed the wizard's head and rammed his prick down the other man's throat.
Severus gagged, and nearly vomited. Finally, his throat opened up, allowing the length access without causing Severus too much pain. The Slytherin did his best to please Lupin, swallowing around the hardness and licking everywhere he could reach.
While Lupin fucked Severus' face, Potter slid further underneath the bound man. He undid his trousers and slipped them around his ankles. When he had his already hard cock perfectly in position, he gave Black the word, and Black shoved Severus down, hard, so that he was sitting on Potter's prick.
The pain was blinding; Severus thought his arse had been ripped apart. Had he been able to, he would have bit down on the prick encased in his mouth. As it was, all he could do was scream around the cock, making Lupin moan with pleasure.
Black lifted Severus slightly, then pushed him down again. "You wanted Prongs to fuck you, whore. Ride him!"
To Severus' surprise, after a few more painful thrusts, he began to enjoy the massive cocks in his in his arse and throat. He continued to suck and lick, while bobbing up and down on the prick. He was on the verge of orgasm when he felt Black's rough hands squeezing his ball sac.
"Oh, no you don't, bitch. This isn't for you."
Moments later Lupin shoved his cock as deep as it would go down Severus' throat. He stilled, screamed Severus' name and shot hot semen down Severus' throat. After the initial burst, he humped Severus' face limply, coaxing the last droplets of cum from his balls.
Lupin's orgasm triggered Potter's. He thrust into the warm hole, holding Severus' hips for support. Unlike Lupin, he continued pumping into the tight, wet heat as he climaxed, spurting his seed into Severus' bum and making both of them sticky.
Potter crawled from underneath the frustrated man, stood and pulled his pants back up. Lupin, stepping away, also redressed. The two sated wizards made themselves comfortable, sitting a few feet to the side of their prisoner.
Black, meanwhile, had taken off his shoes and stripped out of his trousers. Naked from the waist down, save for his socks, he stepped in front of Severus.
Severus licked his lips unconsciously as he stared at the large appendage. It was both longer and thicker than Lupin's had been, the circumcised head swollen and leaking. He assumed that it would be down his throat soon, and wondered if he could handle it.
"Oh, no. You don't get to suck this lollypop, queer," Black said, grinning. "I'm not going to risk having it bitten off." As he spoke, Black grasped his cock firmly in his right hand and began stroking it slowly. Much more vocal than his friends, he groaned loudly as he pumped his meat harder and faster.
Severus' erection bounced against his stomach, begging for attention. He desperately wanted to comply, but was still bound. He only thing he was capable of doing was staring, entranced, as Black brought himself off.
The moaning intensified as Black's hand began pumping faster, almost a blur. His friends, off on the sidelines, were rubbing their clothed crotches in empathy. Severus frantically humped the air, unable to keep himself from reacting to the scene before him.
Black's orgasm was electrifying. Hot sperm cum from his prick, spraying Severus' face. Severus lapped at the sticky substance, wanting to drink it all. It seemed like hours before Black had finished shooting, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Well, now we know what Slytherins are good for," he said as he put his trousers back on.
"Let's let him loose, then," sighed the werewolf, approaching the bound wizard.
"Why?" Black asked, truly curious.
"We can't leave him like this," Potter piped up. "Let him loose, Moony."
Lupin waved his wand, muttering under his breath.
Freed, Severus first reaction was to kill the Gryffindors for the humiliation they'd made him suffer. Unfortunately, his prick was still standing at attention, throbbing painfully. His body fought to take care of both issues at once, launching itself at Lupin, who was nearest.
Severus wrestled Lupin to the ground and stole his wand. He quickly stupefied his other attackers and turned his attention back to Lupin. Tossing the wand aside, he bunched the robe over Lupin's hips, ripped the button off the werewolf's trousers and tugged the zipper down.
After the initial shock, Lupin began to protest. "Snape, stop. Don't do this." Other such nonsense escaped his lips, but it was barely coherent, and besides, Severus wasn't listening.
Once he'd ripped the pants past Lupin's knees, he flipped the other wizard over with a quick, fluid motion and mounted him. Without lubrication of any sort, it was difficult going at first. Severus barely managed to get the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle before he had to pull out, readjust, and push back in. This time a little more slipped in, wrenching a scream from Lupin.
Severus continued to slowly force himself into the tight heat, while Lupin bucked and swore, screamed and fought. When Severus' nuts bounced against Lupin's bum, he gave a victorious grunt. Without pausing to adjust, he drilled Lupin's arse relentlessly, panting and sweating as he raced to completion.
After all the tormenting and teasing they had done to him, it didn't take long for Severus to climax. After only a handful of thrusts he felt his balls tighten up. With one last, furious pump, he came, blowing his load inside the werewolf.
Severus collapsed onto Lupin, breathing heavily. It took several seconds to regain his composure. When he had, he undressed Potter, who was closest to his own height and weight, and donned the other man's clothes. He then found his wand, and stuck it in the pocket of the borrowed trousers. Finding Potter's wand in the pocket, he smirked at his captors.
"Not so fun when the roles are reversed, is it?" He walked off, laughing evilly. Just before he was out of sight, he tossed the offending wand into a growth of thorn bushes. Serves them right, he thought, satisfied.
February 10, Present Year, continued . . .
Severus awoke to find a fresh
stack of Valentine's cards and love letters. Frustrated by such a
disgusting sight so early in the morning he aimed his wand, and with a growled,
"Incindo," destroyed the trash. He was tempted to tell Albus
that he was too sick to teach today, but that would lead to a day wasted under
Poppy's care. Not that he didn't like the Medi-Witch, he just wasn't in
the mood to deal with women.
Struggling out of bed, he took a quick shower and got ready for class. Not interested in making his usual dramatic entrance designed to put fear in the hearts of the troublemakers, he arrived in the classroom early, skipping the cholesterol-rich breakfast he'd become so fond of.
As he stared to sit behind his over-large mahogany desk, he noticed an envelope. Unlike most of the envelopes he'd encountered this month, this one was plain, white, and unthreatening; it frightened him more than all the others combined. At least they'd had the decency to declare themselves for what they were; this one was trying to sneak under his radar in the guise of a harmless letter.
Still, Severus knew he had to open it. It was just possible that this was a harmless letter, and one that he needed to read. In that case, if it suffered the same fate as its predecessors, he might be in trouble. And if it turned out to be another Valentine? Well, he'd burn it, same as the rest.
Taking a deep breath and settling down behind his desk, Severus picked up the envelope in one hand. He selected a silver letter opener from the top drawer of his desk and carefully disengaged the plain wax seal. That accomplished, he slid the letter from its sheath and read it.
In sloppy writing, writing Severus would recognize anywhere, was the following:
S,
I do think we understand each other. Or, at least, I understand you. If you want to find out what I mean, meet me under the Quidditch stands after dinner Friday. I have something for you.
H
Severus first reaction was anger. Friday was the 14th, Valentine's Day. He would not fall for the same ploy twice, no matter how stupid Potter thought he was. Gradually, however, his curiosity broke through. Why would the son attempt the same prank as the father? The son had never even met the father. Harry may be an insolent brat, but he lacked his namesake's cruelty.
He had just about convinced himself to go, even admitting, at least to himself, that he was intrigued by the young man, when another similarity hit him Harry's godfather, James' best friend, Sirius Black. Would Black go so far as to use his godson to hurt Severus? Severus thought so. He had already proven himself capable of using his friend to attempt murder, and had participated, probably masterminded, Severus' humiliation on numerous occasions. In fact, he whole scenario reeked of Black's sophomoric sense of humor.
There was no way in Hell that Severus was going to walk into the same trap twice.
February 11, Present Year
Seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors, again. Try as he might, Severus could not help glancing at Harry every few minutes, as if to ascertain his sincerity. Harry always seemed to be staring at him, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the potion he was supposed to be concocting. Granger, who had partnered Harry after an argument between him and Weasley, kept nudging the young man, trying to keep him on task. If Severus had read that look correctly, and he had become an excellent judge of body language through his years as a teacher and a spy, then Granger might as well give up. Harry wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but his prick while he was in Severus' presence.
Dismayed, Severus felt his own cock stiffening. Grateful for the heavy, thus concealing, robes he always wore, he stalked to his desk, feigning irritation.
Normally irritation was one of the few things Severus did not have to fake. However, he was so caught up in his thoughts about Harry, about how such an attractive young man, a man who could have anyone he wanted, could possibly fancy him, that irritation was hard to come by.
Sitting once again behind the mahogany desk, Severus thanked the gods that this was his last class of the day; he didn't think he could manage another one without a chance to . . . take care of things.
Still Harry stared at him,
and still Severus stared back. The Slytherins, always concerned for their
Head of House, were the first to notice the strange contest. Fortunately,
they assumed it was a simple battle of wills, and likely an opportunity for the
older wizard to deduct house points from their rivals.
Several of the more observant Gryffindors gradually picked up on the tension, beginning with the nosey Granger. Unlike their fellow students, they could sense that this was more than the usual challenge. Granger, however, was the only one, other than the two men directly involved, to detect the sexual charge in their stares.
By the time class had ended, even the most oblivious of the adolescents were silently observing the contest. Severus and Harry, however, did not notice.
It was still some time before Draco Malfoy, the only one brave enough to interrupt the Potions master, spoke up. "Sir, class ended a while back. May we leave?"
Severus dismissed the class with a wave of his long-fingered hand, never breaking his gaze from Harry's. Harry, it seemed, was not going anywhere, until, at last, Granger pulled him from his seat, gathered his things, and dragged his frozen form from the dungeon classroom.
Adjourning to his chambers, Severus rescued the note Harry had written him from the rubbage bin. He reread it carefully, hoping for some clue as to its author's intents.
The simplicity of the request mocked Severus. Simple like Black. But then, Severus could not have simply imagined the charge between them in class today. If he didn't do something about it, they were likely to ignite the school with the heat between them.
Speaking of heat, Severus realized he still had a rather large problem to deal with. Moving to the comfort of his own bedroom, he quickly undressed and lay atop the covers. Spreading his thighs as far apart as they would go, he allowed his left hand to make a soft trail, starting at his Adam's apple, down his chest, over his hard abs, and down to his penis. He traced first the top of his hard length, and then the underneath, continuing down until his fingers caressed his balls. He cupped them in his palm, fingers lazily stroking.
The sounds of his own soft moaning served to further excite Severus. He ached with the need to touch his cock, but denied himself the pleasure, determined to tease himself, draw it out. He busied his right hand with his navel, slowly but firmly fingering the shallow hole. The nerves there seemed to be directly linked to his penis, because it leapt at him and throbbed harder.
At last he couldn't resist. His right hand abruptly left his belly button and wrapped tightly around his leaking member. By pure force of will he kept his strokes slow and even, still stroking underneath with the left hand. His moaning intensified, and he felt his balls drawing up, ready to spill their precious fluids. He lost control over his own body. His hands sped up, left slipping further under and massaging his balls firmly. The right hand gripped his cock tighter still, the strokes coming fast and uneven. His hips got into the action, humping into his hand, trying to force the orgasm from his ready body.
Panting harshly, Severus squeezed his eyes shut, imagining Harry's hands on his body, Harry's tongue down his throat. Within seconds he erupted, cum spurting into the air, falling back down to land on his stomach and bedclothes.
Getting his wand from the nightstand, he performed a cleaning spell on himself and his covers, crawled under the blankets, and drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
February 13, Present Year
Severus reread the note for
the thousandth time, still struggling with the answer. It still might
prove to be a cruel prank, and Severus was stick to death of being the butt of
Black's jokes. He was sure that, if it was a set up, Black was
behind it.
On the other hand, there was a very real possibility that Harry's intentions were . . . well, not cruel, anyway.
The last thing Severus wanted to do was set himself up for another fall. No, this time he would not go; he would not hand himself over to humiliation. Crumpling the note into a tight ball, he tossed it into the ever-burning fire.
February 14, Valentine's Day, Present Year
Severus sat in his favorite armchair, occasionally tossing another perfumed envelope into the fire. He watched sadly, as the hungry flames consumed each profession on undying love, silently toasting the fickle Eros.
The soft knock on his door took him completely by surprise. Probably just Dumbledore, come to wish him Merry Hell. Hoisting himself from the comfortable seat, he stumbled, more than a little drunk, to the door.
Opening the door slowly, he was shocked, but extremely pleased, to see Harry Potter standing on the other side, looking both disappointed and determined. Stepping aside, he motioned for the young man to enter.
Harry brushed past Severus, their robes catching slightly on one another. Planting himself in Severus' second chair, right next to the one he knew was Severus' favorite, he looked up at the taller man and said, "Happy Valentine's Day.'
"Happy Valentine's Day, Harry." It was the first time Severus had called Harry by his given name, although he'd been thinking of him that way for quite some time.
"Why didn't you come?" Harry asked, unable to keep a slight tremor out of his voice.
"I thought it was a prank."
"Severus . . . er . . . Professor, why would you think that?"
"It's Severus, Harry, and never mind." He pulled the younger wizard up to him, embracing him tightly. Harry's trembling chin pressed into Severus' chest as silent tears soaked through his collar. Severus' own eyes burned with unshed tears, but he would not give in to them.
Slowly he released the young
man. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I do understand. I finally
understand." He kissed the other man's forehead, took him by the
hand, and led him to the bedroom.
Too emotionally and physically exhausted for sex, the couple made love through gentle kissing and caresses before falling asleep in one another's arms.
February 14, Valentine's Day, Present Year
Up in the Heavens, a well-known god smiled down on the troublesome pair. Consulting his clipboard, he reviewed the couples he had elected to unite this season. Tired, but satisfied with a job well done, he checked off Severus Snape and Harry Potter the last on the list. Eros could finally relax.
**Narrator's Notes: Of
course, this isn't exactly how things happened. Severus' memories are
colored with hatred, both for who he was and for Dumbledore's pet Gryffindors.
He truly believes that things happened this way; just as if you were to ask the
Marauder's, they'd no doubt tell you that Severus cornered them, begging to be
allowed to suck their pricks.
The truth lies somewhere in between, but we'll never know who's version is closer to actual events. The only things for certain: Severus was not completely unwilling or innocent in this tryst, and all the boys enjoyed themselves.