Title: Dare to Dream
Author: Drakeluvr
LJ Nickname: Nuavarion
Summary: Harry has detention with Snape.
Warnings: Voyeurism, Teachership
Dare to Dream
Harry chewed his lip thoughtfully as he walked through the deserted Entrance Hall and down to the dungeons to the Potions classroom for his detention. He honestly didn't know what he had done to earn this detention, he had paid attention to the lecture, taken notes, and carefully followed the directions for the potion that they had been working on, and still, he had managed to enrage the man and acquire detention with the most hated teacher in Hogwarts.
Although he wasn't sure why, Professor Snape seemed more acerbic toward him than usual. It was true that they hadn't gotten on together all through his school career, add to that the fact that Harry had seen the man kill his friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore the year before and you had a pretty good reason for this animosity.
Harry, as well as several others had been surprised to find the man had returned after his escape last year, and it was true Harry had tried to fight them about his reemploy but then, Minerva McGonagall had shown him Dumbledore's Pensieve. He had found that Severus had merely been following the request of a man who had already been dying. He had changed his demeanour, toward him, but the man's increased animosity made no sense.
Harry found that he was about ten minutes early when he reached the Potions classroom, and shrugged. It was probably better to be early than late with his Professor's recent temperament, and knocked softly on the door. There was no answer, and with a shrug, he tried the door.
Finding it unlocked, he stepped inside to an empty room. He sat down quietly to wait and idly looked around, noticing a chink of yellowish light coming from the storeroom into the otherwise dark dungeon classroom. Curiosity seizing him, he rose and quietly made his way to the door. His eyes widened at what he saw and he stifled a gasp.
Severus knew he still had time before the brat turned up for his detention. God, he thought with a groan. He's nothing but an impertinent, spoilt brat, Dumbledore's and now Minerva's Golden Boy. He would never see me as I see him, as I shouldn't see him. He's only seventeen; I'm thirty-seven. He's nothing but a child. But still, whenever he was around Harry, he became aroused. He was attracted to Harry Bloody Potter, the son of his worst enemy.
Severus cast tempus, checking the time before entering the storeroom. He toed off his shoes and peeled off his socks. The dungeon floor would have been considered frigid to others, but living there for so long, he was used to the temperature, and the floor was merely cool against his feet. He unbuttoned his outer robes, and laid them carefully on the stool. Next, he unbuttoned his crisp, white shirt, removing it, his dark trousers and boxers. Setting them on the counter, he perched on the stool and began to stroke himself.
He had been so involved in what he was doing, Severus did not hear the soft knock on the door a few minutes later, nor Harry's stifled gasp as the young man watched in the door way. He was completely unaware that he had an audience who was watching him intently, eyes clouded with desire, looking for all the world as though their dreams had come true. No, he didn't notice this, for his own eyes were closed.
Harry stood frozen in the doorway for only a few moment before he found the courage to enter, being sure he moved silently so as not to disturb or startle the man. Once he was in front of him, he dropped to his knees. "Here," he whispered. "Let me help you."
"Potter!" Severus yelled, his eyes snapping open. "What are you –" but his question was cut off by a gasp when he felt the Gryffindor's warm tongue flick gently against the slit at the head of his shaft.
"Mmm," Harry moaned softly before opening his mouth and taking the head of the man's thick penis in his mouth, circling it with his tongue as he hollowed his cheeks to take more into his mouth. He smiled inwardly when he heard the man's breath become ragged, and caught the soft groan that had obviously not been meant to reach his ears.
It wasn't long before he had swallowed the man up to the base, and he began bobbing his head in a slow tempo, allowing the man's penis to almost completely leave his mouth before swallowing it down again, the whole while his tongue circled the warm, sensitive flesh. After a few repetitions, he felt long fingers slip into his hair, gripping it close to his scalp. The man's breath came hard and ragged to his ear, and Harry knew he was close; he had been close before he'd even known that Harry was there.
Harry allowed his Professor to guide him, showing him the pace he wanted him to use, and hummed against the firm flesh invading his mouth. He felt the man stiffen, the fingers in his hair tightening their hold, feeling the explosion of slightly salty tasting come in his mouth. He moaned softly around swallows, taking all the man had to offer before releasing the lax organ from his mouth as he licked his lips and rose to his feet.
When he met his Professor's gaze, the onyx eyes were filled with anger. "What the hell was that, Potter?" he spat, glaring daggers at the Gryffindor before him.
Harry smirked slightly. "With all do respect, Sir, I just had you prick in my mouth; call me Harry." Severus continued to glare at him as he hastily gathered his robes around him. Harry reached out and touched his arm, stilling his hand. "Don't," he said softly. "Please."
"Why?" Severus asked angrily. "So you can say I coerced you; get me fired? That's what you've always wanted, isn't it, Potter?" he asked, looking up at the Gryffindor.
Harry shook his head slowly. "No," he said softly as Severus stood, drawing his robes around him. "That's not what I want."
Severus snorted. "Forgive me, Mister Potter," he said acerbically. "But I find that hard to believe."
"Why?" Harry countered. It was true that he had hated his Professor like everyone else, perhaps more so because he had seen the man kill his mentor. But this man also haunted his dreams. Many times it had been this man who kissed him, touched him so tenderly. And then tonight, when he had seen him pleasuring himself, he could not resist.
Severus eyed him warily, searching for lies in his emerald eyes, and was surprised when he found none. "What do you want then, Mister Potter?"
"Aside from you calling me Harry?" he countered once more, and the man nodded. "I think that would be quite obvious." He moved closer, backing the man against the counter. Severus swallowed involuntarily. Potter was close, too close. Harry moved closer, wanting to kiss him, but paused not far away when the man inhaled sharply, stiffening. "What are you afraid of, Professor?" he asked huskily.
"You delude yourself, Mister Potter," Severus replied. "I fear nothing."
Harry smiled slightly. "Then, why are you trembling? Merlin," he breathed before the man could answer, his gaze having shifted from the man's face to his hair. "Why are we such fools?"
Severus blinked at the surprising question. "What?"
"Your hair," Harry answered, smiling softly. "It's not greasy at all, its baby fine." He reached up slowly, and fingered the inky strands. He noticed the odd look in Severus' eyes when he returned his gaze to the man's onyx eyes, and pulled back, letting his hand fall to his side.
"What do you want, Potter?" Severus murmured, not raising his voice though he was tempted to since the Gryffindor was so close.
"To touch you; to see you," Harry replied. "I – I understand if you refuse, and I will not bother you any more if that is your wish… but," he trailed of as he studied the man's face. He hummed softly, cocking his head to the side, and smiled before shaking his head. He had just noticed that the man's hooked nose had not always been so, but looked as though it had been broken several times, generally in the same place.
Severus scowled and ignored this. "But?" he asked.
"But there's something I do wish to know," Harry answered, smiling at him.
"And what would that be?"
"What you think about. What was going through your mind while you were masturbating?"
Outwardly, Severus' expression remained unchanged, but inside, his mouth was agape. "That is none of your business, Mister Potter," he answered, shocked that the boy would ask such a thing.
"Not even if I tell you mine?" Harry asked. "Please?"
"Oh, I'm dying to know what you think about, Mister Potter," Severus answered sarcastically.
"I know you are," Harry answered with a smile, which widened when Severus blinked. "Oh, don't look so surprised. It's taken me a long time to learn how to read you, but I can. I know you're interested, I can see it in your eyes."
"No," Severus replied firmly, though he swallowed nervously, feeling utterly exposed before the boy's gaze. No one, not even Albus had learned to read him so well; to know what he was really thinking, how he was really feeling. Oh, they thought they could, but all they could do was guess.
"Oh, so you will let me see you then?" Harry asked, his smile turning to a smirk as he sat down on the stool the man had vacated.
Severus could tell by the look on the boy's face that unless he flat out refused to do either, he would not relent. So, feeling rather self-conscious, he stepped back away from the Gryffindor, and dropped his robes, lowering his head.
Harry wrinkled his brow in concern, and rose to his feet, walking up to him. "Why?" he whispered, a look of confusion on his face as he gently lifted Severus' face. "Why do you hide?"
Severus sighed, lowering his gaze a moment before meeting emerald once more. "Because I am not much to look at. I am not beautiful."
Harry smiled gently. "Let me be the judge of that," he said softly. Severus swallowed, but nodded. "Thank you," Harry murmured, and Severus looked at him curiously. "For showing me," he clarified. Severus nodded once more. "Turn," said Harry.
Severus turned around as requested, holding his breath. He lowered his head and hurriedly retrieved his robes, beginning to put them on when he heard the boy gasp.
"No, wait," Harry called, causing him to pause. Severus turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the boy to see tears in his eyes. Severus scowled. He didn't want the boy's pity. He had resumed putting his robes on when he felt the Gryffindor's hand upon his flesh, preventing him from moving the robe any further. "Don't," Harry said softly, closing his eyes against his tears. "Please don't hide."
Severus wrenched away from the touch, pulling the robes up high around his neck. "I'm hideous," he murmured. "I know this; I do not want your pity."
Harry kicked himself. He could not prevent the gasp of surprise when the man turned, revealing the many scars that crisscrossed the entirety of pale skin on his back. He wasn't repulsed by the sight, but angered. He was angry with those that had done this to the man.
Harry reached out and grasped the top of the robe, gently pulling it down, once more revealing the scars. He moved forward, sliding his hands around the man's waist. "No," he said softly. "I – I'm sorry if my reaction implied that I found you ugly. I find you far from ugly, Severus." He chanced calling the man by name to reassure him. "I was merely surprised and angered at those who had done this to you." Harry gently traced the length of each scar with his finger before kissing the raised mass of scar tissue. "You're beautiful," he whispered.
Severus stood stiffly, refusing to believe the words that fell from the boy's lips, even while he felt himself wanting to and growing hard once more. "What," he paused, swallowing dryly. "What do you want, Mister Potter?"
Harry didn't answer right away, but continued his trek down the scar marred back, running his fingers over them lightly before placing a gentle kiss upon each one. "You still haven't figured it out?" he asked as he rose to his feet, his hands resting lightly on the man's hips. "Or you have, and simply refuse to believe me?"
Severus turned to face him, and Harry smiled at him when he saw the look of surprise in the onyx eyes even as his face remained expressionless. "Ah," he murmured. "That's right, I promised to tell you what I thought about, didn't I?"
"You will probably tell me whether I want to know or not, so you might as well," Severus answered sarcastically. He honestly dreaded the young man sharing this with him, knowing he would likely hear the name of his nephew – an angelic looking blond with an acerbic, abrasive, pompous personality.
Harry removed his hands from the man's waist, and gently took his hands, his gaze on them as he caressed them with his thumbs. He was quiet a moment, and Severus thought he wouldn't continue, and released a sigh of relief as emerald once more turned to him, and the boy spoke. "It's a habit of mine, to put charms on my curtains every night. I do so because I'm afraid of talking in my sleep."
Harry stepped closer; his body not even an inch from the man. He reached up and touched the soft, inky strands once more. Leaning forward, he tried to capture Severus' lips once more, but the man stiffened once again and he paused. "It is you I think about at night. I find myself getting hard just thinking about what it would be like to have you touch me. It's you who visits me every night in my dreams," Harry admitted softly.
Severus blinked, for the first time, his mask falling revealing surprise in his expression, he captured Harry's mouth in a hungry kiss, pulling him closer, and he did indeed feel the Gryffindor's hard length straining against its confines. He heard the young man moan softly and arch against him, as he tasted himself on his lips and in his mouth.
Both were breathing hard when they broke apart several minutes later, and Harry smiled at him. "What are you doing here, Mister Potter?" Severus asked, arching a curious brow.
"I'm here for my detention, Professor," Harry answered cockily.
Severus cast tempus revealing that it was nearly curfew. "I believe that you can count detention served. It's late, you should go."
"Oh," he said, looking disappointed and feeling like he was being blown off. "Al-alright." Feeling dejected, he headed back toward the classroom.
"Harry," Severus said softly, so softly in fact, that the young man paused and turned with a curious expression to be sure he had heard right. "Detention tomorrow, same time, my chambers." Harry looked at him in confusion a moment before a slow smile stole over his features. "And seventy-five points… to Gryffindor."
"Sir?" Harry asked gob smacked. He had never earned points for Gryffindor from the man before him, who, to his surprise and delight, still stood nude before him.
"You heard me," Severus replied. "Seventy-five points, for making an old man feel like he's wanted and attractive."
Harry smiled and returned to his side, caressing his face gently. "You are wanted and attractive, Sev," he murmured before kissing him softly. "And you're not old, and if I have to spend every night in detention to prove it, I will. Goodnight, Professor," he said when the man gave him a wane smile.
"Goodnight, Mister Potter," Severus returned and watched the young man depart. He sighed softly as he gathered his clothes and dressed once more. Perhaps even he could dare to dream.
The next night, as promised, Harry returned for his detention and once more made him feel wanted, needed, and even loved, as he did every night there after. Severus was dreading the time of the young Gryffindor's graduation, as it grew nearer, fearing once Harry was gone, able to go out into the real world, he either would forget about him or be killed. Voldemort was still out there after all.
Much to his surprise however, they both survived the war, and Harry remained by his side. Yes, he thought one night as he laid in bed with his husband, carding his fingers through his soft, dark locks, the younger man asleep, curled against his chest. Yes, perhaps even I can dare to dream. And with that, he doused the lights, and snuggled down in the blankets, drifting off to sleep with Harry wrapped in his arms.