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hpkinkfestTitle: In the Unexpected Places
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nixied
Prompt Number: #278 submitted bywritcraft
Kink Showcased: Caning
Rating: R
Pairings: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Summary: The world had a way of throwing Potter at Severus no matter how much he wished otherwise.
Warnings: Dubcon, not SSC complaint kink, restraint.
Word Count: ~6.5K
Author’s Notes: Last year I wrote about 500 words of plot and 5000 of porn, this year I evidently went with something different. Or, the honest truth, it was the fastest I could get them to take their pants off. Unfortunately the optional prompt failed to loop in. Hopefully I’ve kept Severus IC. Any issues with SPaG are my fault, I edited heavily after my beta was through with it.
Mods, could I get a caning tag please?
…it’s still technically not midnight in America even if it is where I am… Sorry! Work and html took forever
The war was won and he had survived… what a ghastly fact that was. Instead of lounging in the after being rammed with red hot pokers (or whatever the muggles had dreamed up now), the preferable option in his mind, he was stuck once more into trying to stuff even the smallest bit of knowledge into the minds of impertinent children.
Worse still however, was the abundant knowledge that Minerva still held a grudge. Evident by the presence of Potter and his year mates sat at the near end of each house table watching the new first years be sorted. The only consolation he could find from the entire affair was the visible paling of students when they glanced his way and saw the mess of scar tissue at his throat. An advantage he’d inevitably lose once they realised he could barely speak above a low mutter without the aid of the sonorous spell.
But who knows, maybe he’d be lucky and one of the little cretins would finally succeed in blowing them all up. Unlikely, but he could dream.
* * *
“Minerva, you can’t be serious.” He hissed, waving his arm at the closed door behind him.
Sharp green eyes glared up at his over the rim of her glasses, lips a hard thin line.
“Surely there has to be another option?”
“Severus.” McGonagall’s eyes narrowed. “Rebuilding Hogwarts took time, and despite the vanquishing of Voldemort filling positions has proven difficult.”
“But him?” His face twisted with disgust and the pain of the rasped words.
“Who else would you suggest? Our prior teachers are either dead, bespelled or locked up. And despite the best of intentions, Albus’ request for you to stay on has meant a dearth of volunteers.” An eyebrow arched. “As I’m sure, Severus, you can understand why.”
“But Potter?” Severus seemed to deflate with the words, finally slumping into the seat opposite McGonagall. “He’s a student.”
“Many of the eight years are taking assisting positions, there simply isn’t any other option, and Potter is perfectly adequate for the position in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
“A foolish idea if there was one. And unlike the others he won’t be reporting to anyone. Minerva, he’s 18.”
“You weren’t much older when you started teaching.”
“He hasn’t even sat his newts.”
“He won’t be teaching the seventh years, and I’m certain the events of the summer will convince most he’s qualified.” McGonagall’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “But I’m sure you’ll provide guidance if he should need it.”
“Minerva.”
“Severus.” Now that was definitely a smile.
“I have my own student to take care of, as you saw to.” He didn’t bother to try to hold back the sneer.
“Everyone has taken on an assistant Severus, and you agreed that Miss Patil was the best candidate-”
“Of a rotten lot.”
“Whom you have agreed to have in your eighth year NEWT class, hm?” There was that eyebrow again, mocking him.
“Fine. But Potter?”
“Well I’m certainly not giving the position to you.” She snagged a parchment and her quill from the desk. “Now, if that is all?” It was unfair how she could still make him feel like a student after all these years. “Kindly send Mr Potter in when you leave.” And with that she began to scratch something across the parchment.
Gathering his pride, Severus turned with a swish of his clock and strode out of the office. The door leapt open before him, preventing a rather impressive bang, revealing the wide-eyed Potter brat.
“Professor.”
“Potter.” Well surely Minerva would be happy with that, it was barely a snarl… maybe he’d be able to get through the retched year without caving and killing the boy? With that thought he departed back to dungeons.
* * *
“No.” And he slammed the door to his office closed on Potter’s pathetic face… or he would have if Minerva hadn’t sworn to switch the Patil girl for Granger. She might be arguably as competent, but far too much of a know it all, she would be insufferable.
“Professor.” As always Potter refused to be bowed, staring straight up at him, not even blanching at the scar across his throat. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to want to go any further, waiting out the silence.
“Yes, Mr Potter?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sneered down at the boy, tilting his chin upwards as the damn brat had had the audacity to grow over the summer.
Eyebrows bounced over round frames as Potter tilted his head. “Might I come in? Professor McGonagall-”
“Headmistress.”
“Sorry.” That might just have been sincere. “Headmistress McGonagall said I should see you if I had any questions.”
“Already?”
“Well, I was wondering if it would be possible to get a summary on what you taught and what might have been covered over the last year?”
An eyebrow arched in surprise. “I’ll prepare a written summary.” Perhaps there was hope for the boy after all.
“I was hoping we could discuss it now.” …Or perhaps not.
“If you have any questions after reading my précis then you may find me again, but until then, goodbye Mr Potter.” And there was that oh so satisfying bang of a door.
* * *
This was intolerable, simply unconscionable; there were students in the staffroom. The only sanctuary outside of his blessed Dungeon chambers and there were students in it. What on earth had driven Minerva to such madness?
“Students, Minerva? Surely we should have some respite from them?”
“Normally they won’t be allowed in, but for the start of year talk it’s good for them to be here.”
Ah, well, at least it would only be temporary.
* * *
“Severus. Occasionally I have work to do.”
“You said that it would only be for yesterday, but that boy is in there once more.”
“The others were assisting, Potter is the acting teacher, and as such he will have use of the staffroom.”
“He’s still a student.”
“An unusual situation, but the point stands. Until a replacement teacher is found, Harry will have full use of the staffroom.”
He was going to find a way to disable that charm on her door; his exits weren’t nearly as effect without a good bang to go with them.
* * *
After ten minutes of periodic knocking it was clear whomever was outside his chambers wasn't going to go away. A sign that it was less and less likely a first year slytherin had been dared to his rooms... Filch was right, it was a pity you couldn't string them up by their thumbs anymore.
Sighing, he wrested himself from the armchair closest to the fire and wrenched open the door. "Oh good- what are you doing here Potter?" Was nothing sacred?
"The summary sir. I was wondering if you had finished it?"
"The papers are in my office." Unfortunately that didn't seem to be enough to be rid of the boy; instead he swayed on his feet, dawdling. "If that is all, Mr Potter?"
Did he just bounce? "Would it be possible for us to get them now?"
"No." Evidently that wasn't enough to properly chastise him as he still refused to turn to leave. "And ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew."
Ah, Potter did look delicious when he was outraged. He did not just think that.
* * *
This was a turnaround, Minerva calling him into her office. "Severus, you can't take points from Harry." She was practically channelling Dumbledore.
"He's still a student."
"We all agreed the eighth year students would be disciplined differently."
"I didn't."
"Regardless you are to send them to my office when you have an issue. And there'll be no more petty point taking." A sharp glare cut off his protest. "The eighth years don't have curfew due to their unusual class hours.
"I won't ask you to apologise to Harry, but I would ask you try to be cordial."
* * *
Dropping the precis on Potter's head probably wouldn't be seen as cordial even in the loosest of definitions. So instead he waited for the boy to show himself in the staffroom. However as the bell rang out signifying lessons to commence it was evident the infuriating boy wasn't going to show. Instead he was left to hurry to the dungeons to try to force some knowledge into tiny brains.
* * *
"Miss Patil, I trust you will be able to manage watching the students compete their test?" After two days of waiting for Potter in the staffroom, it was clear he was going to have to hunt him out, or deal with more of Minerva's disappointed looks.
"Of course Professor Snape." Thankfully he'd received the Ravenclaw twin, could always trust a Ravenclaw to prevent cheating, even if they were insufferable bookworms.
Luckily Potter wouldn't be that hard to hunt down, Defence was still in the same room and there would certainly be a class now.
* * *
Riotous laughter echoed behind the oak door. Severus couldn't think of anything in the syllabus that would inspire such sickening fun, evidently Potter wasn't teacher material. Well, he'd put an end to all this.
"What do you think you are doing, Mr Potter?" The door cracked against the wall, shattering the laughter. Ah, there was that beloved terror.
Unfortunately that satisfaction didn't last very long, Potter scrambled up from the floor where he'd landed after one of the students had lost focus on the levitating charm.
"Professor Snape!" Potter yanked at his shirt, trying to pull it into some semblance of array. What on Earth had been going on in here? Sweat was even beading on his brow. "Nothing to worry about, just some basic harmless defence spells." At least he had the good sense to be chagrined this time. At his own lack of response, Harry barreled forward. "Did you need anything Professor?"
Whipping the parchment from his robes he dropped it on the nearest desk. "The summary you wanted."
"Ah, great." Potter turned and gestured at his huddled class, fourth years. Pausing as they began to move back to their seats, he settled his gaze once more on Severus. "Thank you Severus. If that's everything?"
The idea that the boy looked eager freed him from this nonsensical paralysis, the door shut behind him before it even registered that he'd called him Severus. Minerva had clearly been allowing the boy too many liberties. It was going to be up to him to correct the issue.
* * *
Thankfully Minerva had acquiested to his insistence to reinstate the requirement of outstanding to attend his newt classes. It hadn't managed to banish the intolerable Granger like it had the other pair of the trio, but at least she never committed the crimes against Potions that her friends had.
As such he had a respectable class of six quietly brewing dreamless sleep, it'd doubtlessly be useless, but maybe there would be a hint of something to build on in spite of that fawning fool Slughorn's pitiful tuition.
However Potter's seeming continued avoidance of the staffroom meant he lacked any avenue in which to correct the boy's over familiarity.
"Mr Nott, kindly note the colour of your portion in comparison to Miss Patil's and think how to correct it before it turns to tar."
Such a shame Narcissa had insisted on home schooling Draco through his newts, he'd shown some aptitude underneath the near habitual reliance on nepotism.
"Turn down the boil on that potion before it explodes!"
* * *
At least Minerva had gotten rid of those insipid purring tea cups; instead Albus’ portrait had to look on in dismay as they used her old trustworthy china.
“I can’t help but notice, Severus, that Harry isn’t using the staffroom?” He raised his eyebrow to match hers as she sipped her tea.
“What are you implying Minerva?”
She settled her cup in its saucer and sighed. “Did you say anything else to Harry that evening? Other than deducting points.”
"He requested a summary of defensive teaching, which I prepared for him." He took a sip of his tea, lovely stuff; really Minerva deserved the headship just for stopping those good awful herbal blends. "It was however in my office and after hours."
There was that sharp look again. "Severus." Merlin, it was like being in school again.
"Harry, as you persist in calling him-"
"Some level of familiarity is necessary with his teaching position."
So she was responsible for that over familiarity the other day. "Harry is perfectly capable of coming to see me during office hours."
That rebuking look appeared to be here to stay. "Harry is not just a student; he has both his own studies and classes." Ah, he'd forgotten about that. "The rest of the staff have made accommodations for him."
"And there are reasonable accommodations." Coming to his personal chambers wasn't one. "I have availed myself in the staffroom."
"A decision that, according to others, has led Harry to avoid it."
"That is hardly my fault."
"Severus!" He must assuredly did not sink in him chair; Minerva was not his teacher anymore. "Cease this pettiness, the war is over, perhaps you could consider it time to begin moving on." Damn the woman, one day she'd lose the ability to make him feel like a first year.
* * *
Regardless of what Minerva might say, he was not being petty, Potter was. He hadn't thrown the boy from the staffroom, but Minerva was sure to persist until he solved the issue. But how to do it?
He didn't know the boy's schedule in and out, and he couldn't continue with leaving Miss Patil alone to gallivant around after Potter. And he wouldn't come to the staffroom, hence the problem. Summoning him to his office would likely put them on the wrong foot, but he wasn't having Potter in his private chambers. Even a promise of Minerva's tea supplier wouldn't have him caving like he had with Albus.
A written summons would be fine; he could be perfectly cordial in writing despite what his students might say.
* * *
Damn it! Writing this stupid invitation shouldn't take so long.
* * *
A touch of distance was necessary, as such he arranged for the more to arrive by owl with breakfast. And so the following day he sat and watched as the morning owls stopped overhead, observing as Potter tucked the small pile of letters under his arm and departed.
* * *
The summary was fine, I don't need to discuss it further, thank you. –H
"Damn him." He screwed the parchment up and blasted it with a firm incendio.
Potter was deliberately misunderstanding him. He was going to have to seek him out in person instead.
* * *
The redeeming part of being a teacher meant he could access class schedules. Working out when Potter was teaching was easy, unfortunately getting his lessons pinned down proved much harder. Fortunately Miss Patil was happy to inform him that Potter used the defence office for private study.
And so, a few nights later he stood outside the office contemplating whether to knock or just enter. Fortunately that decision was wrenched from him and the door opened to revel to reveal a rather ruffled Harry. Didn't he own a mirror?
"Sev-" His eyes narrowed. "Professor." Look at him trying to puff himself up. "Can I help you?"
"Might I come in?" He looked ready to refuse before mullishly stepping stepping back and gesturing him forward.
The room was surprisingly tidy and devoid of person touches outside of a few books. Unsurprisingly he'd imagined a riotous mess.
"I told you I don't need to discuss the summary. The notes you provided were fine."
He looked tired, doubtless from his schedule. "You aren't using the staffroom."
"I thought you didn't want me to, so why are you complaining?"
Evidently he'd overheard that conversation. "That's never stopped you before." Cordial Severus! "Regardless, as you are teaching you should use it."
Severus couldn't help but notice the sort pull tight across his chest as Harry crossed his arms. He'd filled out in the last year... stop it this was not the time.
"Why?"
"Just show up tomorrow." He didn't give him the chance to say anymore, storming from the room.
Damn Minerva and damn Harry, he was too old for this foolishness. And not nearly drunk enough to be having those thoughts.
* * *
One of the many benefits of being potions master, other than easy access to a range of beautiful poisons, was the easy access to hangover potions. So the morning greeted him with a pounding head and dry mouth, soon banished with a brackish drink. Any chance of a good mood was gone with waking and the realisation that the green eyes in his fantasies were no longer accompanied by fiery red hair.
Skulking into the staffroom, his mood further sunk at the sight of the room's sole occupant. Harry bloody Potter.
The boy jumped at the banging of the door, spinning to stare at him with a look of shock on his face. Gaping at him before turning back to gaze upwards once again.
Stepping closer he followed Harry's line of sight, brows arching as he did so. Minerva must have asked Filch for the items.
"What is- is that a-"
"A switch." Filch must have been in ecstasy at the request, such a shame it'd doubtlessly stay on the wall.
Round eyes blazed up at him. "But, why?"
"Perhaps she's bringing back caning." That was downright gleeful. Maybe he would allow Harry back in his class, and maybe Minerva would let him use students for potion ingredients next. He could dream, thankfully in suitably lose robes.
He glanced back at Harry, his look now entirely too inquisitive. "Were you caned Severus?"
"Potter-"
"Harry."
He was too old to be side-eyeing anyone. "Would you like to know how it feels?" He didn't need volume to let that slither out.
"I don't think you can cane the teachers, Severus." The cheek of the boy, grinning at him.
"Just the impertinent ones." He was not going on his toes to loom. "And don't call me that."
"What would that be, Severus?"
Surely Minerva would eventually understand him killing the boy. "You do not have my permission for such familiarity."
"McGonagall insisted." Harry was practically rocking with glee. "Said I needed to build the appropriate co-worker relationship."
"You're still a student." He grit out.
"Not yours." Harry singsonged back, ducking around him to greet the newly arrived Hagrid.
Maybe he could have the students brew Draught of Peace, their incompetence was certain to raise the probability of of a catastrophic explosion from one in a thousand to fifty-fifty. Then he wouldn't have to deal with any of them anymore... although knowing his luck they'd probably just blow off his hands.
* * *
Minerva continued to slowly flood the staffroom with more odds and ends: house photos of years gone by, dueling gloves, and tarot cards. Each eliciting a response from Harry of befuddled stares, bemusement and sometimes outright laughter. Despite the mundane nature of it all, it was riveting to watch from behind a multitude of potions articles.
* * *
Life ticked slowly onward, his students managed not to kill them all, Poppy appeared at his chambers with various elixers and spells to sooth the ravages of repeating instructions over and over, and Harry discovered the perils of dating a fellow student. Oh, how he would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that meeting with Minerva.
Instead he could barely hide his smirk behind the lip of his teacup as Minerva narrowed her eyes at him across her desk.
"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr Potter's recent actions have lead to certain requests from parents." Her words were sort and clipped, becoming terser as Severus' smile grew.
"You know I don't listen to idle gossip, Minerva."
"Severus."
He settled his teacup back in its saucer with nary a clatter and sighed. "He's nineteen, Minerva, and has been dancing around the Weasley girl for years."
"There's talk of the Ministry sending in observers." Shit, that wouldn't end well. "Severus, the trials are still on going, with this witch hunt teaching further and further." He didn't dare reach for the teacup, anger or fear making his fingers tremble. "The Ministry would love nothing more than to disgrace Potter."
"And use it as a chance to round up every Slytherin he's spoken up for."
He could feel the air bleed out of him, Minerva too, suddenly looking every one of her 63 years.
"Luckily your antagonist relationship with Harry is well known; as such having you observe him should protect us from accusations of bias."
"But Potter spoke for me."
"He didn't have to." She leant towards him, hands resting clasped on the desk. "I did."
* * *
One thing he hasn't thought to ask in the shock that followed Minerva's reveal was who would be covering his classes whilst he was watching Potter. The answer to which came at the following day's dinner.
"Severus, my boy, you're looking... well."Slughorn stood visibly discomforted in front of him, hands twitching on the back of the chair.
"Horace." The rasp of his voice made Slughorn flinch.
* * *
"I am perfectly capable of teaching my newt classes, Horace can cover first through fifth." Severus leant forward over the desk, hands press flat and firm.
"Severus, you've seen the defence schedule, there'll be clashes with all your classes, Horace will have to step in."
"Then I'll reschedule those classes."
"You were happy for him to replace you in sixth year, my boy." Albus paused from his tea looking out from his portrait. The words made both Severus jump, the portrait having always been silent before.
Severus spun, bristling at the interruption. "You gave me no choice. What was I to do?" His voice cracked with the effort. "Refuse to partake in your master plan and be forced to leave? You knew I couldn't!"
Sharp blue eyes stared back at him over half moon glass. "Severus..." He almost looked regretful.
"Albus." Minerva's sharp voice cut through the moment. "Severus this is merely temporary. Once the ministers are assured nothing untoward is going on you'll resume your post." She tapped her wand on the nearby empty tray, summoning the simple china. "Horace will teach according to your syllabus and plans. If after a reasonable period of time you feel it still isn't working, I will inform the Ministry that they'll need to send their own observer."
The damn woman had been taking classes from Albus in manipulation.
* * *
The most frustrating part of observing Harry’s classes wasn’t the mind numbing boredom, but Harry’s overenthusiastic hands-on approach that left him rumbled and dishevelled. Today, however, had taken the cake. Potter had dumped the shirt, leaving him in a too small t-shirt which rucked up with each twist as he duelled five students at once.
“Expelliarmus!” “Flipendo.” “Colloshoo!” “Locomotor mortis!” “Densaugeo!” “Tarantallegra.” “Confondo!”
“Finite incantatem.” Harry’s wand cut through the air, a sudden swirl pushing each student backward. “Time.
“Well done everyone.” He stepped out of the circle, swiping up his discarded shirt and swiping at his brow. The bell ringing out as he dropped his arm. “And remember three inches per spell on their intended effects and suggested potential counter spells.”
Severus watched as Harry snaked through the fleeing third years, hips twisting as he ducked out of the way of passing students. He would have to recommend to Minerva she impress upon the boy the importance of robes.
Harry paused at his desk, waving his hand over the recording quill and ceasing its motions. “Well Severus, how many complaints this time?”
Despite his prior attempts to force distance between himself and the boy, Harry had evidently seen it as a challenge. Minerva had allowed him far too many liberties and as such, he know saw them as equals. A view he was keen to dissuade him of in any number of ways.
“You would find it easier to correct and build on their skills with spells if you paired them together. Duelling them yourself cannot achieve that, as I have told you before, Mr Potter.”
“Harry.” He settled against the desk upon which Severus’ notes rested. “And I’ve told you, they won’t try certain spells on a classmate, but they know I can defend myself, so they’ll try them on me.”
“And what will we do when they manage to banish you to some faraway place?” His brow crept upwards and his lip curled as Harry tilted his head.
A winsome smile broke across his face. “Miss me terribly.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re right, continue. I can’t think of a better outcome.”
Harry flicked his shirt twice before raising it up with both arms, staring at it for a long moment before casting a quick cleaning charm and swinging it on, leaving it unbuttoned.
“I trust you are steering clear of Miss Weasley?” That was just good sense to enquire after, Harry had been known to rush headfirst into situations he’d been told to steer clear of, there wasn’t a hint of jealously in his tone at all. Nor the need to unsteady Harry as he unintentionally did to him.
Harry glared through the corner of his glasses. “I told McGonagall I would.”
“And you always do as you’re told.” The words were sneered out; the flash of anger across Harry’s face cultivated a wisp of regret in his gut.
“I know what’s at stake.” And with that Harry turned and stormed away. The regret flared up, but really this was the way they should be.
* * *
The unfortunate side effect of driving Harry to anger, especially now that he spent hour upon hour watching him, were the dreams that crept up on him. Occasionally nightmares of hexes and curses flying after one too many cruel words, but mostly they were filled with violence and passion. Wrenching him awake to a pounding heart and tented sheets.
It was infuriating, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. There had to be some way to purge these thoughts from his head, otherwise Minerva wasn’t going to need to worry about keeping out a Ministry observer, but a whole slew of them after he bent the boy over and either strangled or screwed him.
* * *
Miss Patil, how are things going with Professor Slughorn?”
He waited as she pursed her lips, thinking. “Okay. He’s sticking to your lesson plans.”
Good, perhaps Minerva was right after all.
* * *
“Ginny, I told you no.”
He heard Harry before he saw him, pushing against the swell of students gathering around the commotion.
“Harry, this is ridiculous.”
He could see flashes of red hair; he had to be close to the centre now. A few more steps and he’d put an end to this nonsense.
“We can’t, not now.”
“We were dating before, they can’t stop us now just because you’re-“
“Sonorus.” He broke through the end of the crowd, barking out “Enough!”
Miss Weasley turned to him, face flushed and eyes shockingly bright. “To your classes or house dormitories, now!”
With a hum the crowds broke away, leaving behind just the trio and Miss Weasley. Mr Weasley was stood between the pair looking pained, whilst Miss Ganger was poised at Miss Weasley’s side ready to pull her away. “I said go.” Granger grasped the Weasley girl and began to tug her away whilst her brother glanced back and forth between them and Harry.
“Just go Ron, I’ll catch you later.” Swiping weakly in the air, Harry turned to Severus with a weary gaze. “Professor.”
Ron hesitated a moment more before turning and running after Miss Granger and Weasley. “I’ll see you later, Harry.”
Stepping closer, Severus cancelled the charm and lowered his wand from his throat. “I believe you have a class I’m to be observing?”
“Right.” Ruffling his fringe, Harry eyed his shoes. “Just this way, Severus.”
* * *
Harry thrummed with restrained violence through his classes, the confrontation with Miss Weasley winding him tight. It wasn't to be their last one, and each time wound him tighter and tighter, frustration snapping at him. It fed into their interactions, turning them to barbed banter.
"He's dead and they still won't say Voldemort."
"It's been a matter of months." He bit back a smile as Harry slumped forward into the desk. "You can't expect such a change so quickly."
"Why not? It's stupid." The desk muffled him slightly.
"You have another class in five minutes," that didn't seem to inspire even the slightest movement. "Get up and get the room ready."
"Ugh." Watching Harry slide away fed a curl of desire in him. "I'm too tired for a practical."
"I trust Miss Weasley isn't the one keeping you awake?"
Harry shot him a look of pure venom. "The entire situation is frustrating."
"You're eighteen, I'm sure you've experience dealing with that particular problem." He didn't bother to hide the smirk that followed Harry's flush. It'd doubtlessly haunt him later.
* * *
The following day Potter appeared rested and happy, himself? He was exhausted, thoughts had twirled around his mind all night. Thoughts of how else that blush might be encouraged to appear, how far down would it spread, how long could he keep it lasting... he felt raw.
"Good morning Severus." A bundle of parchments were deposited on the desk. "Surely you should be helping out with some of these?" Harry said eyeing the pile.
"Don't be stupid." He gathered his dark mood around him in the face of Potter's cheer. "I have enough work with my own classes and ensuring you don't ruin the reputation of this school."
Perhaps that was a bit too strong. Harry's smile tightened. "Perhaps you should follow your own advice Snape."
The bell broke the staring match between them.
* * *
"How are things going with Harry?"
The weekly check-in with Minerva always proceeded the same way, an offer of tea, a quick talk on school matters, before moving onto the heart of the matter; Mr Potter.
"As always. I don't know why we are continuing with this farce, it's been a month."
"Indulge me." He could see Albus smiling out of the corner of his eye. The meddling old man. "Severus?"
Sighing, Severus began to speak. "Whilst he is arguably too young and his methods unconventional, he does get results." Swirling his tea, he started into its depths. "There is no evidence of any inappropriate behaviour, and as you know he has ceased his relationship with Miss Weasley."
"Good. Hopefully the Ministry with soon be content with your reports."
"Everard assures me, from what he overhears in the Ministry, that they find Severus' reports most convincing." Albus pried a small sweet from the dish in his portrait.
"Then I will be able to resume my normal schedule soon?"
"After Christmas, barring any unforeseen circumstances." That would have to do.
* * *
They continue forward, each hour together forcing Severus into some quasi friendship with Harry, their talks at time towing the line of propriety. He pulled himself back time and again, reminding himself that he would soon be free off this enforced interaction and these thoughts would fade away.
He would have gotten through if it weren't for Minerva's growing collection. Mostly benign trinkets to create a sense of warmth, the hodge-podge reminiscent of Dumbledore quarters. The newest item however stupid out glaringly. Harry however seemed clueless as to its purpose.
"Why a walking stick?" Severus felt his eyes widen as Harry tilted his head.
"It's not a walking stick."
Harry tipped his head the other way. "Looks like a walking stick."
"It's a cane." This doesn't seem to have any effect.
"Exactly." Surely Harry couldn't be that wilfully blind?
"Do you remember the switch?"
"It’s like that?!"
He could see Harry's eyes lose focus and could only wonder what was running through that brain. Then he flushed, deep and red. The sight igniting the embers that had been smoldering deep down.
"Harry." It was rough and gritted, and gave away entirely too much, but it was impossible to suppress in its entirety.
He didn't say anymore, it was enough when Harry returned his lingering gaze.
* * *
Despite that small acknowledgment he knew he couldn't act on it. Whilst Harry might not be his student anymore, he was still a student. Minerva would gladly had him over to the Ministry of he did... it might just be worth it though.
But they couldn't, and so he would just bare with it until the winter break, the distance thereafter would help.
* * *
Things had a funny way of working out. Two weeks before he would be rid of Harry once more, defence class for the first time devolved into all out war. It was too much really to think that Gryffindors and Slytherins could be in such a class together, especially now that Harry had taken his advice and paired student against student.
For the first half things had gone to plan, but one sneaky spell had led to accusations, then hexes and curses began to fly. Sparks clashed, desks crumpled and students flew, whilst Harry stood amongst it seemingly frozen.
Severus tried the sonorus charm, trying to raise his voice above the din. Threats, minor or major did nothing, the students carried on regardless. There would be nothing for it, he'd have to physically restrain the students.
But before he could do much as twitch his fingers Harry came to life.
"Enough! Accio wands." A sweep of his hand had the students tumbling back as their wands flew from their grasp. "That's enough. All of you will have detention with Filch. Now you may collect your wands when you leave, but until then you will sit," desks flew from against the walls, students scrambling out of the way, "and read."
* * *
"If you can't control the class-" The office door slammed shut behind them.
"I got them under control."
"Eventually."
"I can't predict-"
"You can anticipate."
"Like you were any better."
"They weren't my students."
"I want talking about them!"
They were toe to toe, breaths rasping, each puffing themselves up and blustering. Hovering on the precipice of something.
"Following your advice got me into this mess."
"How dare you."
"How dare I? You-"
It was hard to say who moved first, but he took charge and had Harry slammed against the wall, nose digging into his cheek as he crushed their lips together. Rough hands yanked at his hair, pulling him yet closer, fingers curling to the scalp to guide him.
"Finally." The groan had him pulling away, the sudden realisation of what they'd done. There was nothing for it, he fled.
* * *
Severus retreated to the only refuge he had left, curled up on the armchair in his chambers he gazed into the unlit fireplace. Minerva would soon be seeking him out, Harry still had two classes to teach, and he'd doubtlessly have told her what happened. At least there were no dementors left at Azkaban.
The door rattled with sudden forceful bangs. Apparently Minerva was more than a little displeased. Standing with some reluctance, he resigned himself to the inevitable and tugged the door open. "Minerva, I-"
But it wasn't Minerva, instead he stumbled backwards as Harry shoved him, a quick swish had the door slamming shut and then Harry was on him once more. Driving him back against the nearest bookcase.
The sudden aggression was invigorating, the edge of pain from the firm press against the shelves heightening the pleasure.
"Harry, stop." It felt like it took everything in him to force the boy away.
"Why?" The tone took nothing away from the appeal of his flushed cheeks and kiss bruised lips.
"You're a student."
"I'm a teacher." Harry tried to move closer.
"We can't."
"Don't you want to?"
"That isn't the point." It hurt to keep him at arms length. He wanted nothing more than to sink into the embrace.
"I want you. I'm pretty sure you want me." Giving up on trying to force his way closer, Harry stepped back and yanked his shirt and undershirt off.
"Impertinent boy."
The phrase seemed to light something in Harry's eyes and he could only watch as Harry yanked his shirt taunt between his hands, the thin white line of the cane forming in its place.
"I think you're mistaken about that too."
Wandless magic had him spun and his robes rising up and away from his body to pull his palms out and up.
"You're not in charge of this, Severus."
Air swept against his legs as trousers and boxers fell to his ankles.
"This should be a helpful reminder."
The first strike against his buttocks shocked a sharp cry from him and a fresh lick of fire in his groin. The second a grunt and firming of his prick. The next three fell in rapid succession, lines of heat and pain across the flesh of his buttocks, but Harry was careful not to overlay them. However the sixth fell across his upper thigh, the sharp pain forcing him up on his toes as a yelp slipped out. It did nothing though to calm his erection.
He could hear nothing above the rabbiting of his pulse, and he slowly sunk into the steady rhythm of Harry’s blows, swaying and thrusting against the bookshelves and air. He let his head rest against a leather bound tome, the bend pushing his hips back.
The first strike to overlay the others spent his spine curling, mouth falling open soundlessly. The pain was a distant thought to the overwhelming ecstasy.
“God, you look…”
The next blow overwhelmed him. He felt drawn impossibly tight and shattering outwards all at once, before his prick jerked and spilled, orgasm pouring over him. His knees buckled and he heard a distant clatter before a warm firm chest pressed to his back. But more importantly, the hard jabs of a firm prick through jeans to his skin.
Severus didn’t listen to the low mutters; just felt the steady buck against his heated flesh before the body behind him stiffened with a groan.
“Severus.” He felt his robe unwind from his arms, and once free turned to face Harry.
He took the flushed face in his hands and carefully removed Harry’s glasses. “I’m going to enjoy returning the favour, Harry.” Ah, there was that look of terror he’d missed.
Author:
nixiedPrompt Number: #278 submitted by
writcraftKink Showcased: Caning
Rating: R
Pairings: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Summary: The world had a way of throwing Potter at Severus no matter how much he wished otherwise.
Warnings: Dubcon, not SSC complaint kink, restraint.
Word Count: ~6.5K
Author’s Notes: Last year I wrote about 500 words of plot and 5000 of porn, this year I evidently went with something different. Or, the honest truth, it was the fastest I could get them to take their pants off. Unfortunately the optional prompt failed to loop in. Hopefully I’ve kept Severus IC. Any issues with SPaG are my fault, I edited heavily after my beta was through with it.
Mods, could I get a caning tag please?
…it’s still technically not midnight in America even if it is where I am… Sorry! Work and html took forever
The war was won and he had survived… what a ghastly fact that was. Instead of lounging in the after being rammed with red hot pokers (or whatever the muggles had dreamed up now), the preferable option in his mind, he was stuck once more into trying to stuff even the smallest bit of knowledge into the minds of impertinent children.
Worse still however, was the abundant knowledge that Minerva still held a grudge. Evident by the presence of Potter and his year mates sat at the near end of each house table watching the new first years be sorted. The only consolation he could find from the entire affair was the visible paling of students when they glanced his way and saw the mess of scar tissue at his throat. An advantage he’d inevitably lose once they realised he could barely speak above a low mutter without the aid of the sonorous spell.
But who knows, maybe he’d be lucky and one of the little cretins would finally succeed in blowing them all up. Unlikely, but he could dream.
“Minerva, you can’t be serious.” He hissed, waving his arm at the closed door behind him.
Sharp green eyes glared up at his over the rim of her glasses, lips a hard thin line.
“Surely there has to be another option?”
“Severus.” McGonagall’s eyes narrowed. “Rebuilding Hogwarts took time, and despite the vanquishing of Voldemort filling positions has proven difficult.”
“But him?” His face twisted with disgust and the pain of the rasped words.
“Who else would you suggest? Our prior teachers are either dead, bespelled or locked up. And despite the best of intentions, Albus’ request for you to stay on has meant a dearth of volunteers.” An eyebrow arched. “As I’m sure, Severus, you can understand why.”
“But Potter?” Severus seemed to deflate with the words, finally slumping into the seat opposite McGonagall. “He’s a student.”
“Many of the eight years are taking assisting positions, there simply isn’t any other option, and Potter is perfectly adequate for the position in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
“A foolish idea if there was one. And unlike the others he won’t be reporting to anyone. Minerva, he’s 18.”
“You weren’t much older when you started teaching.”
“He hasn’t even sat his newts.”
“He won’t be teaching the seventh years, and I’m certain the events of the summer will convince most he’s qualified.” McGonagall’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “But I’m sure you’ll provide guidance if he should need it.”
“Minerva.”
“Severus.” Now that was definitely a smile.
“I have my own student to take care of, as you saw to.” He didn’t bother to try to hold back the sneer.
“Everyone has taken on an assistant Severus, and you agreed that Miss Patil was the best candidate-”
“Of a rotten lot.”
“Whom you have agreed to have in your eighth year NEWT class, hm?” There was that eyebrow again, mocking him.
“Fine. But Potter?”
“Well I’m certainly not giving the position to you.” She snagged a parchment and her quill from the desk. “Now, if that is all?” It was unfair how she could still make him feel like a student after all these years. “Kindly send Mr Potter in when you leave.” And with that she began to scratch something across the parchment.
Gathering his pride, Severus turned with a swish of his clock and strode out of the office. The door leapt open before him, preventing a rather impressive bang, revealing the wide-eyed Potter brat.
“Professor.”
“Potter.” Well surely Minerva would be happy with that, it was barely a snarl… maybe he’d be able to get through the retched year without caving and killing the boy? With that thought he departed back to dungeons.
“No.” And he slammed the door to his office closed on Potter’s pathetic face… or he would have if Minerva hadn’t sworn to switch the Patil girl for Granger. She might be arguably as competent, but far too much of a know it all, she would be insufferable.
“Professor.” As always Potter refused to be bowed, staring straight up at him, not even blanching at the scar across his throat. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to want to go any further, waiting out the silence.
“Yes, Mr Potter?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sneered down at the boy, tilting his chin upwards as the damn brat had had the audacity to grow over the summer.
Eyebrows bounced over round frames as Potter tilted his head. “Might I come in? Professor McGonagall-”
“Headmistress.”
“Sorry.” That might just have been sincere. “Headmistress McGonagall said I should see you if I had any questions.”
“Already?”
“Well, I was wondering if it would be possible to get a summary on what you taught and what might have been covered over the last year?”
An eyebrow arched in surprise. “I’ll prepare a written summary.” Perhaps there was hope for the boy after all.
“I was hoping we could discuss it now.” …Or perhaps not.
“If you have any questions after reading my précis then you may find me again, but until then, goodbye Mr Potter.” And there was that oh so satisfying bang of a door.
This was intolerable, simply unconscionable; there were students in the staffroom. The only sanctuary outside of his blessed Dungeon chambers and there were students in it. What on earth had driven Minerva to such madness?
“Students, Minerva? Surely we should have some respite from them?”
“Normally they won’t be allowed in, but for the start of year talk it’s good for them to be here.”
Ah, well, at least it would only be temporary.
“Severus. Occasionally I have work to do.”
“You said that it would only be for yesterday, but that boy is in there once more.”
“The others were assisting, Potter is the acting teacher, and as such he will have use of the staffroom.”
“He’s still a student.”
“An unusual situation, but the point stands. Until a replacement teacher is found, Harry will have full use of the staffroom.”
He was going to find a way to disable that charm on her door; his exits weren’t nearly as effect without a good bang to go with them.
After ten minutes of periodic knocking it was clear whomever was outside his chambers wasn't going to go away. A sign that it was less and less likely a first year slytherin had been dared to his rooms... Filch was right, it was a pity you couldn't string them up by their thumbs anymore.
Sighing, he wrested himself from the armchair closest to the fire and wrenched open the door. "Oh good- what are you doing here Potter?" Was nothing sacred?
"The summary sir. I was wondering if you had finished it?"
"The papers are in my office." Unfortunately that didn't seem to be enough to be rid of the boy; instead he swayed on his feet, dawdling. "If that is all, Mr Potter?"
Did he just bounce? "Would it be possible for us to get them now?"
"No." Evidently that wasn't enough to properly chastise him as he still refused to turn to leave. "And ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew."
Ah, Potter did look delicious when he was outraged. He did not just think that.
This was a turnaround, Minerva calling him into her office. "Severus, you can't take points from Harry." She was practically channelling Dumbledore.
"He's still a student."
"We all agreed the eighth year students would be disciplined differently."
"I didn't."
"Regardless you are to send them to my office when you have an issue. And there'll be no more petty point taking." A sharp glare cut off his protest. "The eighth years don't have curfew due to their unusual class hours.
"I won't ask you to apologise to Harry, but I would ask you try to be cordial."
Dropping the precis on Potter's head probably wouldn't be seen as cordial even in the loosest of definitions. So instead he waited for the boy to show himself in the staffroom. However as the bell rang out signifying lessons to commence it was evident the infuriating boy wasn't going to show. Instead he was left to hurry to the dungeons to try to force some knowledge into tiny brains.
"Miss Patil, I trust you will be able to manage watching the students compete their test?" After two days of waiting for Potter in the staffroom, it was clear he was going to have to hunt him out, or deal with more of Minerva's disappointed looks.
"Of course Professor Snape." Thankfully he'd received the Ravenclaw twin, could always trust a Ravenclaw to prevent cheating, even if they were insufferable bookworms.
Luckily Potter wouldn't be that hard to hunt down, Defence was still in the same room and there would certainly be a class now.
Riotous laughter echoed behind the oak door. Severus couldn't think of anything in the syllabus that would inspire such sickening fun, evidently Potter wasn't teacher material. Well, he'd put an end to all this.
"What do you think you are doing, Mr Potter?" The door cracked against the wall, shattering the laughter. Ah, there was that beloved terror.
Unfortunately that satisfaction didn't last very long, Potter scrambled up from the floor where he'd landed after one of the students had lost focus on the levitating charm.
"Professor Snape!" Potter yanked at his shirt, trying to pull it into some semblance of array. What on Earth had been going on in here? Sweat was even beading on his brow. "Nothing to worry about, just some basic harmless defence spells." At least he had the good sense to be chagrined this time. At his own lack of response, Harry barreled forward. "Did you need anything Professor?"
Whipping the parchment from his robes he dropped it on the nearest desk. "The summary you wanted."
"Ah, great." Potter turned and gestured at his huddled class, fourth years. Pausing as they began to move back to their seats, he settled his gaze once more on Severus. "Thank you Severus. If that's everything?"
The idea that the boy looked eager freed him from this nonsensical paralysis, the door shut behind him before it even registered that he'd called him Severus. Minerva had clearly been allowing the boy too many liberties. It was going to be up to him to correct the issue.
Thankfully Minerva had acquiested to his insistence to reinstate the requirement of outstanding to attend his newt classes. It hadn't managed to banish the intolerable Granger like it had the other pair of the trio, but at least she never committed the crimes against Potions that her friends had.
As such he had a respectable class of six quietly brewing dreamless sleep, it'd doubtlessly be useless, but maybe there would be a hint of something to build on in spite of that fawning fool Slughorn's pitiful tuition.
However Potter's seeming continued avoidance of the staffroom meant he lacked any avenue in which to correct the boy's over familiarity.
"Mr Nott, kindly note the colour of your portion in comparison to Miss Patil's and think how to correct it before it turns to tar."
Such a shame Narcissa had insisted on home schooling Draco through his newts, he'd shown some aptitude underneath the near habitual reliance on nepotism.
"Turn down the boil on that potion before it explodes!"
At least Minerva had gotten rid of those insipid purring tea cups; instead Albus’ portrait had to look on in dismay as they used her old trustworthy china.
“I can’t help but notice, Severus, that Harry isn’t using the staffroom?” He raised his eyebrow to match hers as she sipped her tea.
“What are you implying Minerva?”
She settled her cup in its saucer and sighed. “Did you say anything else to Harry that evening? Other than deducting points.”
"He requested a summary of defensive teaching, which I prepared for him." He took a sip of his tea, lovely stuff; really Minerva deserved the headship just for stopping those good awful herbal blends. "It was however in my office and after hours."
There was that sharp look again. "Severus." Merlin, it was like being in school again.
"Harry, as you persist in calling him-"
"Some level of familiarity is necessary with his teaching position."
So she was responsible for that over familiarity the other day. "Harry is perfectly capable of coming to see me during office hours."
That rebuking look appeared to be here to stay. "Harry is not just a student; he has both his own studies and classes." Ah, he'd forgotten about that. "The rest of the staff have made accommodations for him."
"And there are reasonable accommodations." Coming to his personal chambers wasn't one. "I have availed myself in the staffroom."
"A decision that, according to others, has led Harry to avoid it."
"That is hardly my fault."
"Severus!" He must assuredly did not sink in him chair; Minerva was not his teacher anymore. "Cease this pettiness, the war is over, perhaps you could consider it time to begin moving on." Damn the woman, one day she'd lose the ability to make him feel like a first year.
Regardless of what Minerva might say, he was not being petty, Potter was. He hadn't thrown the boy from the staffroom, but Minerva was sure to persist until he solved the issue. But how to do it?
He didn't know the boy's schedule in and out, and he couldn't continue with leaving Miss Patil alone to gallivant around after Potter. And he wouldn't come to the staffroom, hence the problem. Summoning him to his office would likely put them on the wrong foot, but he wasn't having Potter in his private chambers. Even a promise of Minerva's tea supplier wouldn't have him caving like he had with Albus.
A written summons would be fine; he could be perfectly cordial in writing despite what his students might say.
Damn it! Writing this stupid invitation shouldn't take so long.
A touch of distance was necessary, as such he arranged for the more to arrive by owl with breakfast. And so the following day he sat and watched as the morning owls stopped overhead, observing as Potter tucked the small pile of letters under his arm and departed.
The summary was fine, I don't need to discuss it further, thank you. –H
"Damn him." He screwed the parchment up and blasted it with a firm incendio.
Potter was deliberately misunderstanding him. He was going to have to seek him out in person instead.
The redeeming part of being a teacher meant he could access class schedules. Working out when Potter was teaching was easy, unfortunately getting his lessons pinned down proved much harder. Fortunately Miss Patil was happy to inform him that Potter used the defence office for private study.
And so, a few nights later he stood outside the office contemplating whether to knock or just enter. Fortunately that decision was wrenched from him and the door opened to revel to reveal a rather ruffled Harry. Didn't he own a mirror?
"Sev-" His eyes narrowed. "Professor." Look at him trying to puff himself up. "Can I help you?"
"Might I come in?" He looked ready to refuse before mullishly stepping stepping back and gesturing him forward.
The room was surprisingly tidy and devoid of person touches outside of a few books. Unsurprisingly he'd imagined a riotous mess.
"I told you I don't need to discuss the summary. The notes you provided were fine."
He looked tired, doubtless from his schedule. "You aren't using the staffroom."
"I thought you didn't want me to, so why are you complaining?"
Evidently he'd overheard that conversation. "That's never stopped you before." Cordial Severus! "Regardless, as you are teaching you should use it."
Severus couldn't help but notice the sort pull tight across his chest as Harry crossed his arms. He'd filled out in the last year... stop it this was not the time.
"Why?"
"Just show up tomorrow." He didn't give him the chance to say anymore, storming from the room.
Damn Minerva and damn Harry, he was too old for this foolishness. And not nearly drunk enough to be having those thoughts.
One of the many benefits of being potions master, other than easy access to a range of beautiful poisons, was the easy access to hangover potions. So the morning greeted him with a pounding head and dry mouth, soon banished with a brackish drink. Any chance of a good mood was gone with waking and the realisation that the green eyes in his fantasies were no longer accompanied by fiery red hair.
Skulking into the staffroom, his mood further sunk at the sight of the room's sole occupant. Harry bloody Potter.
The boy jumped at the banging of the door, spinning to stare at him with a look of shock on his face. Gaping at him before turning back to gaze upwards once again.
Stepping closer he followed Harry's line of sight, brows arching as he did so. Minerva must have asked Filch for the items.
"What is- is that a-"
"A switch." Filch must have been in ecstasy at the request, such a shame it'd doubtlessly stay on the wall.
Round eyes blazed up at him. "But, why?"
"Perhaps she's bringing back caning." That was downright gleeful. Maybe he would allow Harry back in his class, and maybe Minerva would let him use students for potion ingredients next. He could dream, thankfully in suitably lose robes.
He glanced back at Harry, his look now entirely too inquisitive. "Were you caned Severus?"
"Potter-"
"Harry."
He was too old to be side-eyeing anyone. "Would you like to know how it feels?" He didn't need volume to let that slither out.
"I don't think you can cane the teachers, Severus." The cheek of the boy, grinning at him.
"Just the impertinent ones." He was not going on his toes to loom. "And don't call me that."
"What would that be, Severus?"
Surely Minerva would eventually understand him killing the boy. "You do not have my permission for such familiarity."
"McGonagall insisted." Harry was practically rocking with glee. "Said I needed to build the appropriate co-worker relationship."
"You're still a student." He grit out.
"Not yours." Harry singsonged back, ducking around him to greet the newly arrived Hagrid.
Maybe he could have the students brew Draught of Peace, their incompetence was certain to raise the probability of of a catastrophic explosion from one in a thousand to fifty-fifty. Then he wouldn't have to deal with any of them anymore... although knowing his luck they'd probably just blow off his hands.
Minerva continued to slowly flood the staffroom with more odds and ends: house photos of years gone by, dueling gloves, and tarot cards. Each eliciting a response from Harry of befuddled stares, bemusement and sometimes outright laughter. Despite the mundane nature of it all, it was riveting to watch from behind a multitude of potions articles.
Life ticked slowly onward, his students managed not to kill them all, Poppy appeared at his chambers with various elixers and spells to sooth the ravages of repeating instructions over and over, and Harry discovered the perils of dating a fellow student. Oh, how he would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that meeting with Minerva.
Instead he could barely hide his smirk behind the lip of his teacup as Minerva narrowed her eyes at him across her desk.
"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr Potter's recent actions have lead to certain requests from parents." Her words were sort and clipped, becoming terser as Severus' smile grew.
"You know I don't listen to idle gossip, Minerva."
"Severus."
He settled his teacup back in its saucer with nary a clatter and sighed. "He's nineteen, Minerva, and has been dancing around the Weasley girl for years."
"There's talk of the Ministry sending in observers." Shit, that wouldn't end well. "Severus, the trials are still on going, with this witch hunt teaching further and further." He didn't dare reach for the teacup, anger or fear making his fingers tremble. "The Ministry would love nothing more than to disgrace Potter."
"And use it as a chance to round up every Slytherin he's spoken up for."
He could feel the air bleed out of him, Minerva too, suddenly looking every one of her 63 years.
"Luckily your antagonist relationship with Harry is well known; as such having you observe him should protect us from accusations of bias."
"But Potter spoke for me."
"He didn't have to." She leant towards him, hands resting clasped on the desk. "I did."
One thing he hasn't thought to ask in the shock that followed Minerva's reveal was who would be covering his classes whilst he was watching Potter. The answer to which came at the following day's dinner.
"Severus, my boy, you're looking... well."Slughorn stood visibly discomforted in front of him, hands twitching on the back of the chair.
"Horace." The rasp of his voice made Slughorn flinch.
"I am perfectly capable of teaching my newt classes, Horace can cover first through fifth." Severus leant forward over the desk, hands press flat and firm.
"Severus, you've seen the defence schedule, there'll be clashes with all your classes, Horace will have to step in."
"Then I'll reschedule those classes."
"You were happy for him to replace you in sixth year, my boy." Albus paused from his tea looking out from his portrait. The words made both Severus jump, the portrait having always been silent before.
Severus spun, bristling at the interruption. "You gave me no choice. What was I to do?" His voice cracked with the effort. "Refuse to partake in your master plan and be forced to leave? You knew I couldn't!"
Sharp blue eyes stared back at him over half moon glass. "Severus..." He almost looked regretful.
"Albus." Minerva's sharp voice cut through the moment. "Severus this is merely temporary. Once the ministers are assured nothing untoward is going on you'll resume your post." She tapped her wand on the nearby empty tray, summoning the simple china. "Horace will teach according to your syllabus and plans. If after a reasonable period of time you feel it still isn't working, I will inform the Ministry that they'll need to send their own observer."
The damn woman had been taking classes from Albus in manipulation.
The most frustrating part of observing Harry’s classes wasn’t the mind numbing boredom, but Harry’s overenthusiastic hands-on approach that left him rumbled and dishevelled. Today, however, had taken the cake. Potter had dumped the shirt, leaving him in a too small t-shirt which rucked up with each twist as he duelled five students at once.
“Expelliarmus!” “Flipendo.” “Colloshoo!” “Locomotor mortis!” “Densaugeo!” “Tarantallegra.” “Confondo!”
“Finite incantatem.” Harry’s wand cut through the air, a sudden swirl pushing each student backward. “Time.
“Well done everyone.” He stepped out of the circle, swiping up his discarded shirt and swiping at his brow. The bell ringing out as he dropped his arm. “And remember three inches per spell on their intended effects and suggested potential counter spells.”
Severus watched as Harry snaked through the fleeing third years, hips twisting as he ducked out of the way of passing students. He would have to recommend to Minerva she impress upon the boy the importance of robes.
Harry paused at his desk, waving his hand over the recording quill and ceasing its motions. “Well Severus, how many complaints this time?”
Despite his prior attempts to force distance between himself and the boy, Harry had evidently seen it as a challenge. Minerva had allowed him far too many liberties and as such, he know saw them as equals. A view he was keen to dissuade him of in any number of ways.
“You would find it easier to correct and build on their skills with spells if you paired them together. Duelling them yourself cannot achieve that, as I have told you before, Mr Potter.”
“Harry.” He settled against the desk upon which Severus’ notes rested. “And I’ve told you, they won’t try certain spells on a classmate, but they know I can defend myself, so they’ll try them on me.”
“And what will we do when they manage to banish you to some faraway place?” His brow crept upwards and his lip curled as Harry tilted his head.
A winsome smile broke across his face. “Miss me terribly.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re right, continue. I can’t think of a better outcome.”
Harry flicked his shirt twice before raising it up with both arms, staring at it for a long moment before casting a quick cleaning charm and swinging it on, leaving it unbuttoned.
“I trust you are steering clear of Miss Weasley?” That was just good sense to enquire after, Harry had been known to rush headfirst into situations he’d been told to steer clear of, there wasn’t a hint of jealously in his tone at all. Nor the need to unsteady Harry as he unintentionally did to him.
Harry glared through the corner of his glasses. “I told McGonagall I would.”
“And you always do as you’re told.” The words were sneered out; the flash of anger across Harry’s face cultivated a wisp of regret in his gut.
“I know what’s at stake.” And with that Harry turned and stormed away. The regret flared up, but really this was the way they should be.
The unfortunate side effect of driving Harry to anger, especially now that he spent hour upon hour watching him, were the dreams that crept up on him. Occasionally nightmares of hexes and curses flying after one too many cruel words, but mostly they were filled with violence and passion. Wrenching him awake to a pounding heart and tented sheets.
It was infuriating, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. There had to be some way to purge these thoughts from his head, otherwise Minerva wasn’t going to need to worry about keeping out a Ministry observer, but a whole slew of them after he bent the boy over and either strangled or screwed him.
Miss Patil, how are things going with Professor Slughorn?”
He waited as she pursed her lips, thinking. “Okay. He’s sticking to your lesson plans.”
Good, perhaps Minerva was right after all.
“Ginny, I told you no.”
He heard Harry before he saw him, pushing against the swell of students gathering around the commotion.
“Harry, this is ridiculous.”
He could see flashes of red hair; he had to be close to the centre now. A few more steps and he’d put an end to this nonsense.
“We can’t, not now.”
“We were dating before, they can’t stop us now just because you’re-“
“Sonorus.” He broke through the end of the crowd, barking out “Enough!”
Miss Weasley turned to him, face flushed and eyes shockingly bright. “To your classes or house dormitories, now!”
With a hum the crowds broke away, leaving behind just the trio and Miss Weasley. Mr Weasley was stood between the pair looking pained, whilst Miss Ganger was poised at Miss Weasley’s side ready to pull her away. “I said go.” Granger grasped the Weasley girl and began to tug her away whilst her brother glanced back and forth between them and Harry.
“Just go Ron, I’ll catch you later.” Swiping weakly in the air, Harry turned to Severus with a weary gaze. “Professor.”
Ron hesitated a moment more before turning and running after Miss Granger and Weasley. “I’ll see you later, Harry.”
Stepping closer, Severus cancelled the charm and lowered his wand from his throat. “I believe you have a class I’m to be observing?”
“Right.” Ruffling his fringe, Harry eyed his shoes. “Just this way, Severus.”
Harry thrummed with restrained violence through his classes, the confrontation with Miss Weasley winding him tight. It wasn't to be their last one, and each time wound him tighter and tighter, frustration snapping at him. It fed into their interactions, turning them to barbed banter.
"He's dead and they still won't say Voldemort."
"It's been a matter of months." He bit back a smile as Harry slumped forward into the desk. "You can't expect such a change so quickly."
"Why not? It's stupid." The desk muffled him slightly.
"You have another class in five minutes," that didn't seem to inspire even the slightest movement. "Get up and get the room ready."
"Ugh." Watching Harry slide away fed a curl of desire in him. "I'm too tired for a practical."
"I trust Miss Weasley isn't the one keeping you awake?"
Harry shot him a look of pure venom. "The entire situation is frustrating."
"You're eighteen, I'm sure you've experience dealing with that particular problem." He didn't bother to hide the smirk that followed Harry's flush. It'd doubtlessly haunt him later.
The following day Potter appeared rested and happy, himself? He was exhausted, thoughts had twirled around his mind all night. Thoughts of how else that blush might be encouraged to appear, how far down would it spread, how long could he keep it lasting... he felt raw.
"Good morning Severus." A bundle of parchments were deposited on the desk. "Surely you should be helping out with some of these?" Harry said eyeing the pile.
"Don't be stupid." He gathered his dark mood around him in the face of Potter's cheer. "I have enough work with my own classes and ensuring you don't ruin the reputation of this school."
Perhaps that was a bit too strong. Harry's smile tightened. "Perhaps you should follow your own advice Snape."
The bell broke the staring match between them.
"How are things going with Harry?"
The weekly check-in with Minerva always proceeded the same way, an offer of tea, a quick talk on school matters, before moving onto the heart of the matter; Mr Potter.
"As always. I don't know why we are continuing with this farce, it's been a month."
"Indulge me." He could see Albus smiling out of the corner of his eye. The meddling old man. "Severus?"
Sighing, Severus began to speak. "Whilst he is arguably too young and his methods unconventional, he does get results." Swirling his tea, he started into its depths. "There is no evidence of any inappropriate behaviour, and as you know he has ceased his relationship with Miss Weasley."
"Good. Hopefully the Ministry with soon be content with your reports."
"Everard assures me, from what he overhears in the Ministry, that they find Severus' reports most convincing." Albus pried a small sweet from the dish in his portrait.
"Then I will be able to resume my normal schedule soon?"
"After Christmas, barring any unforeseen circumstances." That would have to do.
They continue forward, each hour together forcing Severus into some quasi friendship with Harry, their talks at time towing the line of propriety. He pulled himself back time and again, reminding himself that he would soon be free off this enforced interaction and these thoughts would fade away.
He would have gotten through if it weren't for Minerva's growing collection. Mostly benign trinkets to create a sense of warmth, the hodge-podge reminiscent of Dumbledore quarters. The newest item however stupid out glaringly. Harry however seemed clueless as to its purpose.
"Why a walking stick?" Severus felt his eyes widen as Harry tilted his head.
"It's not a walking stick."
Harry tipped his head the other way. "Looks like a walking stick."
"It's a cane." This doesn't seem to have any effect.
"Exactly." Surely Harry couldn't be that wilfully blind?
"Do you remember the switch?"
"It’s like that?!"
He could see Harry's eyes lose focus and could only wonder what was running through that brain. Then he flushed, deep and red. The sight igniting the embers that had been smoldering deep down.
"Harry." It was rough and gritted, and gave away entirely too much, but it was impossible to suppress in its entirety.
He didn't say anymore, it was enough when Harry returned his lingering gaze.
Despite that small acknowledgment he knew he couldn't act on it. Whilst Harry might not be his student anymore, he was still a student. Minerva would gladly had him over to the Ministry of he did... it might just be worth it though.
But they couldn't, and so he would just bare with it until the winter break, the distance thereafter would help.
Things had a funny way of working out. Two weeks before he would be rid of Harry once more, defence class for the first time devolved into all out war. It was too much really to think that Gryffindors and Slytherins could be in such a class together, especially now that Harry had taken his advice and paired student against student.
For the first half things had gone to plan, but one sneaky spell had led to accusations, then hexes and curses began to fly. Sparks clashed, desks crumpled and students flew, whilst Harry stood amongst it seemingly frozen.
Severus tried the sonorus charm, trying to raise his voice above the din. Threats, minor or major did nothing, the students carried on regardless. There would be nothing for it, he'd have to physically restrain the students.
But before he could do much as twitch his fingers Harry came to life.
"Enough! Accio wands." A sweep of his hand had the students tumbling back as their wands flew from their grasp. "That's enough. All of you will have detention with Filch. Now you may collect your wands when you leave, but until then you will sit," desks flew from against the walls, students scrambling out of the way, "and read."
"If you can't control the class-" The office door slammed shut behind them.
"I got them under control."
"Eventually."
"I can't predict-"
"You can anticipate."
"Like you were any better."
"They weren't my students."
"I want talking about them!"
They were toe to toe, breaths rasping, each puffing themselves up and blustering. Hovering on the precipice of something.
"Following your advice got me into this mess."
"How dare you."
"How dare I? You-"
It was hard to say who moved first, but he took charge and had Harry slammed against the wall, nose digging into his cheek as he crushed their lips together. Rough hands yanked at his hair, pulling him yet closer, fingers curling to the scalp to guide him.
"Finally." The groan had him pulling away, the sudden realisation of what they'd done. There was nothing for it, he fled.
Severus retreated to the only refuge he had left, curled up on the armchair in his chambers he gazed into the unlit fireplace. Minerva would soon be seeking him out, Harry still had two classes to teach, and he'd doubtlessly have told her what happened. At least there were no dementors left at Azkaban.
The door rattled with sudden forceful bangs. Apparently Minerva was more than a little displeased. Standing with some reluctance, he resigned himself to the inevitable and tugged the door open. "Minerva, I-"
But it wasn't Minerva, instead he stumbled backwards as Harry shoved him, a quick swish had the door slamming shut and then Harry was on him once more. Driving him back against the nearest bookcase.
The sudden aggression was invigorating, the edge of pain from the firm press against the shelves heightening the pleasure.
"Harry, stop." It felt like it took everything in him to force the boy away.
"Why?" The tone took nothing away from the appeal of his flushed cheeks and kiss bruised lips.
"You're a student."
"I'm a teacher." Harry tried to move closer.
"We can't."
"Don't you want to?"
"That isn't the point." It hurt to keep him at arms length. He wanted nothing more than to sink into the embrace.
"I want you. I'm pretty sure you want me." Giving up on trying to force his way closer, Harry stepped back and yanked his shirt and undershirt off.
"Impertinent boy."
The phrase seemed to light something in Harry's eyes and he could only watch as Harry yanked his shirt taunt between his hands, the thin white line of the cane forming in its place.
"I think you're mistaken about that too."
Wandless magic had him spun and his robes rising up and away from his body to pull his palms out and up.
"You're not in charge of this, Severus."
Air swept against his legs as trousers and boxers fell to his ankles.
"This should be a helpful reminder."
The first strike against his buttocks shocked a sharp cry from him and a fresh lick of fire in his groin. The second a grunt and firming of his prick. The next three fell in rapid succession, lines of heat and pain across the flesh of his buttocks, but Harry was careful not to overlay them. However the sixth fell across his upper thigh, the sharp pain forcing him up on his toes as a yelp slipped out. It did nothing though to calm his erection.
He could hear nothing above the rabbiting of his pulse, and he slowly sunk into the steady rhythm of Harry’s blows, swaying and thrusting against the bookshelves and air. He let his head rest against a leather bound tome, the bend pushing his hips back.
The first strike to overlay the others spent his spine curling, mouth falling open soundlessly. The pain was a distant thought to the overwhelming ecstasy.
“God, you look…”
The next blow overwhelmed him. He felt drawn impossibly tight and shattering outwards all at once, before his prick jerked and spilled, orgasm pouring over him. His knees buckled and he heard a distant clatter before a warm firm chest pressed to his back. But more importantly, the hard jabs of a firm prick through jeans to his skin.
Severus didn’t listen to the low mutters; just felt the steady buck against his heated flesh before the body behind him stiffened with a groan.
“Severus.” He felt his robe unwind from his arms, and once free turned to face Harry.
He took the flushed face in his hands and carefully removed Harry’s glasses. “I’m going to enjoy returning the favour, Harry.” Ah, there was that look of terror he’d missed.
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Date: 2013-03-01 02:16 am (UTC)We already have a caning tag. :) I added it to your post.
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Date: 2013-03-02 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-02 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-02 12:34 pm (UTC)Awww, this was so good! I really enjoyed it, the build up and back and forth snark being one of my very favourite things about Snarry.
Awesome work! I loved this.
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Date: 2013-03-02 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-03 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-03 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-11-10 01:43 pm (UTC)Other than that, I enjoyed the slow build-up, Snape's growing awareness of Harry's body, the back-and-forth of flirtation between them. Harry's combined student-teacher role was an unusual twist - I can't recall seeing it before in 8th year fics, especially combined with a "Snape survived" plot - and I think it added some interesting ambiguity for Snape to muddle his way through. Minerva was lovely, of course - still managing to make Snape feel like a first-year, after all this time.
Your version of Snape's point of view was a pleasure to read: clever, nasty, petty, insecure, mixed up, covertly lustful... all in a good way. Thanks for an entertaining story!