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Saturday, October 16, 1998 ---- 10:32 a.m.
"How about that drink, Potter?" asked Bryerson, gesturing as though to indicate that the invitation included Hagrid, as well.
"I . . . er . . ." To Harry's dismay, he couldn't think of an excuse fast enough. What was he going to say, after all? He couldn't claim work commitments, not today. And it wasn't as though staff had to stick close to the students or follow them around, or anything. They merely needed to be in the village in case any of the students needed assistance. "I thought I might pal around with Hagrid--"
"Ach, you go off w' the professor, Harry," said Hagrid in a booming voice. "Nothin' like two hard workers out fer a drink down the pub, I always say!"
Now Harry really couldn't refuse, he thought. But it was probably a bit immature to try to avoid Bryerson, anyway. "Sounds good," he said weakly.
"That's the spirit." Bryerson led the way to the Three Broomsticks and insisted on paying for the drinks.
When the man came back from the bar, carrying their drinks, Harry stared at them, bemused. Ale and mead. It made him remember Severus transfiguring drinks back and forth as he explained the wizarding world to Harry.
Thinking about it, Harry started to feel just awful. Even after hearing that men being attracted to other men was perfectly acceptable, he'd still refused to come here drinking with Severus. He hadn't wanted to be seen drinking with him. And after everything Severus had done for him!
I should do something in return, Harry thought. Buy him something while I'm in town, maybe. More sweets? No, I gave him those last time--
"So I hope I wasn't too harsh with you, yesterday," Bryerson said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "You had an odd look on your face as you left. And really, Potter, you are doing a fine job in general. It's just that I think you have the potential to do much better, you understand."
Well, that certainly made Harry feel quite a bit better. As long as he didn't think about Bole, that was. But Harry wasn't about to let him ruin his day. "Thanks," he said, sipping his drink. He cast about for something to say, feeling awkward about the whole thing. He couldn't help it. Just looking at Bryerson made him remember his fantasies. Made him remember wanting to impress the man, and not just because he'd be evaluating Harry's work. It was all very embarrassing, now. "Er . . . so how do you like Scotland, then? You haven't lived here before, I think you said?"
"I quite like the countryside around Hogwarts." Bryerson smiled. "I haven't lived here, before, but my fiancée's parents have a house not too far away. I visited them last year and thought then that Scotland had some of the loveliest landscapes I'd ever seen."
Harry felt a choking feeling rising in his throat. Bryerson was engaged to be married? He was almost afraid to ask, but some part of him had to. "Oh. Your fiancée?"
Bryerson smiled widely. "Eloise, yes. She's apprenticed to a master wand maker in Hungary at the moment. A pity the post doesn't allow her much time off." His expression became wistful. "I've been telling myself all along that the Yule holidays will be here soon, but sometimes it feels like forever until December."
Harry drained his drink, feeling like a complete idiot by then. The man wasn't even gay! If Harry hadn't come to his senses, he'd still be having those fantasies, and getting upset when the idiot girls in class giggled over Bryerson . . . and the man wasn't even gay!
He felt himself go cold all over, because there was more at stake here than the fact that he might have made such a complete fool out of himself. Only now was he understanding that there'd been times when he'd wanted to touch Bryerson. Touch his hair. Brush against him in passing . . .
Harry didn't even want to think about what the spell might have done to him if he'd given in to impulses like that.
"Maybe your fiancée can come visit, see the castle," he said faintly.
Bryerson's eyebrows drew together. "She's doing a demanding apprenticeship that doesn't allow for much time off."
Oh, right. Bryerson had just said that. Well, Harry acting like an idiot around Bryerson was nothing new. He abruptly stood up. "I've actually some things to do, Professor. Thanks for the drink."
"We'll have to do it again, sometime."
"Uh, yeah." Harry got out of there as quickly as he could and began wandering aimlessly down the main street in Hogsmeade. He passed Honeydukes without much interest, since he really did think it would be bad form to get Severus sweets twice in a row. Still, the longer he looked in shop windows the more he realised that he ought to find some sort of gift for Severus. Looking back, he couldn't help but think that his behaviour toward the other man had been . . . well, pretty neglectful, actually. Refusing to so much as be seen with him until quite recently. Not even talking to him during meals, at first. Asking to be seated somewhere else, in fact.
Thinking on all that, Harry almost wanted to hang his head in shame. Especially considering how Severus had been acting, all along. He'd put up with Harry's sulks and his moods, and he really didn't have to. The spell had given him a lot of power over Harry, after all. This very morning, he'd known that Harry had lied to him, but instead of forcing him to tell the truth, he'd let Harry have a personal life.
He didn't even get angry all that often. Certainly, not as often as Harry had been expecting when he'd first learned about the spell. Really, since the invocation, the only time Severus had been truly furious with him had been back when Harry had stolen the Dragon's Happy.
That's it, Harry suddenly thought. That's what I can get Severus. Finally, something I'm sure he'd really like. Dragon's Happy to replace the powder that I took without permission!
The trouble was, Dragon's Happy didn't exactly grow on trees, did it? Harry looked around in the apothecary and didn't see any. Well, it was a rather unusual thing to need. Severus had said it was pretty hard to get. Harry wasn't even sure where to start looking. Knockturn Alley? He couldn't really go there on his own, and if he invited Severus to go with him, that would sort of defeat the purpose.
It was a relief when Harry saw Hagrid. He might have an idea.
"Might find summat like that if yeh look 'round the back streets," said Hagrid, scratching his beard with one hand. "I could show you to a few shops I use ta get strange sortsa food fer some a my creatures. Not places yeh should show the students, mind."
"It's for Snape," said Harry, feeling kind of pleased that he could admit to being friendly with the man, now. He still didn't want people to know he was enslaved to him, particularly, but he was done pretending to not even know him. "You know how he likes to have really bizarre ingredients on hand."
"That I do, that I do," said Hagrid, not even blinking an eye at the implication that Harry and Severus must be getting on all right, these days. He began to wind away from the main street through the village, back through alleyways Harry had never noticed before, until they reached a maze of streets that seemed to lack all signs. Not a single student was in sight.
Harry thought he'd explored every bit of Hogsmeade, but he'd never seen this part of it, before. He had a sneaking suspicion that there were spells scattered about to ward students away. Though for all that, the street didn't have the sinister feel of Knockturn Alley.
Harry blinked when he turned a corner and saw Severus entering a building a short distance away. He seemed to be moving quickly, his black robes streaming out behind him. Before Harry could call out to him, however, the door closed behind him.
Probably a potions-specialty shop, Harry thought. Selling things that are barely legal, since there aren't any adverts in the windows. You'd have to know the shop was there.
If any place might have some Dragon's Happy for sale, Harry thought that shop would.
"Let's wait over there," said Harry, pointing to a shadowy area in a nearby side street. "And after Snape comes out and is out of sight, we'll go in and see if they have any Dragon's Happy."
Hagrid softly guffawed. "There's no such thing to be had in there, and as for Professor Snape . . . I 'spect he'll be in there a fair while."
Harry didn't understand. "What, he likes to talk potions with the owner, or something?"
Hagrid's chuckles grew louder as he patted Harry on the shoulder. Or tried to, rather. Coming from Hagrid, the affectionate gesture became something more like a series of stout blows. "Ach, Harry! Professor Snape's not gone in there fer potions, of all things! That's a brothel, it is, and . . ." Hagrid chuckled again. "Best to move on, I think."
Harry turned away from the building. Hard not to, really, when Hagrid was kind of pushing at him, now. But something didn't quite make sense. Normally he wouldn't discuss Severus' personal business like this, but he was startled now, and speaking without thinking.
"But he's gay," he protested. "That can't be a brothel. He wouldn't have any reason to want to visit one! I mean, unless somebody in there needed a rare potion, or--"
Hagrid made a choking sound then, sounding as though this time, he was trying to hold in his laughter. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. "Aye, 'tis a brothel, Harry. For wizards tha' prefer their own."
For one moment more, Harry didn't know what to think. The idea of men with men didn't startle him any longer, but he obviously still had a lot to learn, since it had never once occurred to him that there were brothels for that sort of thing . . .
Then the truth dawned past his shock, and Harry felt himself go cold all over. A brothel, was it? And Severus thought it was fine to just go right inside, did he? No wonder he'd been in such a fine mood that morning, practically cheerful!
Sure he thought I ought to keep the Quidditch clinic scheduled, thought Harry, furious. He wasn't worried about whether I was coming across as responsible to the students. No, he was just worried about coming. With somebody else!
An image sprang into Harry's mind, then, of Severus with another man. And thanks to all the reading he'd been doing in that damned book, not to mention his shower fantasies, he didn't have any trouble envisioning the scene. Severus, naked, his long, thick cock on display. But it was another man's hand stroking him, wasn't it? And then Severus was moaning, pulling the other man close for a kiss--
Harry started to feel like he was burning up, he was so angry. I will bind myself to you, ha! He didn't know what the hell Severus had meant by that, but it seemed pretty damned clear what he hadn't meant. And there Harry had started to think that Severus might actually have meant something significant. How completely stupid could he get?
Because here was Severus, cheating on him! And not just cheating, but right here in Hogsmeade, just a few bludger hits from the castle!
But of course, thought Harry, gritting his teeth. His little . . . whores are more convenient that way, aren't they? He's probably been coming down here all along. Why wouldn't he? He told me from the start that Cambiare Podentes wasn't going to impose any sort of limits on him!
A voice mockingly echoed in his head. Were you under the impression that this was destined to be a relationship of equals, Mr Potter?
"Harry!" exclaimed Hagrid beside him, more or less dragging him down an alleyway. "Yeh look awful! Comin' down with somethin', are yeh?"
A meaty palm covered half his face as Hagrid tried to feel for fever.
Harry knocked the hand away, harder than he'd intended. Not that Hagrid was likely to notice. "I just need some time alone," he said, the words emerging like he was biting them out, one by one.
Something seemed to flicker in Hagrid's eyes, just before the half-giant nodded. "Yeh didn't know there was a brothel here in Hogsmeade, eh? Well, it's not summat students would know, is it, but no reason why professors shouldn't visit if the urge strikes--"
Oh, yeah, thought Harry. No reason at all. It's not like he's bound to me, is it?
Anger overwhelming him, Harry took a step backwards, then tried to turn around. He wasn't just going to put up with this. He was going to go in there and see just what sort of trash Severus liked to sleep with! He'd just see, wouldn't he, who was so important that Severus would slink around when Harry was supposed to be busy with Quidditch, and sneak off for visits!
And to think he'd been concerned, he'd actually been worried, that it was cruel to tease Severus with stories from that book. When all along, Severus was just trotting down here to get his jollies, anytime he liked!
"Whoa, Harry," said Hagrid, pushing on him, more-or-less forcing Harry back down the alley, away from the back street where the brothel was located. "I can't think why yeh'd be so upset about Professor Snape takin' his business there, but best we leave him to it, yeh think?"
Oh, God, thought Harry, vaguely sickened. If he'd given in to his first instinct, he'd be in the brothel by now, shouting down the roof to get Severus' attention, and after that, there'd be no hiding the fact that he and Severus were intimately involved.
Except they weren't, were they? Severus had his whore to see to his needs! He could have come to Harry, but no, he'd rather go purchase his pleasures than spend a little time with the man who was pledged to him.
And this, after Harry had worked so hard to get rid of his Bryerson fantasies and replace them with ones about Severus. Damn it, Harry had sweated and struggled to be faithful in everything, even his most private thoughts, and here was Severus whipping out his cock in whorehouses, for God's sake, without so much as a word about it!
He was doing it again, Harry realised. Getting angry. Angry enough to stomp back to the brothel and raise holy hell. But he couldn't do that, really. He didn't want everybody to know that he was gay, for one. Or a slave. And he sure didn't want Voldemort finding out about Cambiare Podentes.
If Harry threw a fit over Severus cheating on him, and did it in front of witnesses . . . no, that just wouldn't be a very clever thing to do.
So Harry tamped down his anger, squashing it into a little ball, then shoving it somewhere deep inside him, where it simmered and simmered and simmered, all through the rest of the day in Hogsmeade. It flared up inside him occasionally, like when he and Hagrid went into Honeydukes and Harry saw the kind of chocolate he'd bought for Severus, that time. To think that Harry had been trying to figure out what he could do to thank the man . . .
Finally, the interminable day was over, and he and Hagrid were walking along the road back to the castle, giggling students dashing past them, bags bulging with sweets. They met up with Bryerson on the way, and for one long moment, Harry was tempted to get even with Severus, he really was. It wouldn't be difficult. Bryersonwas, after all, a very attractive man, and it wasn't as though Harry hadn't thought about touching him, plenty of times.
But then it came to him that even if he wanted to be choked to death by fucking Cambiare Podentes, it was no use, anyway. Bryerson wasn't even gay. And he had a fiancée.
And what was more, he was probably a decent enough person to actually keep any promises he had made!
I will bind myself to you . . . Harry wanted to throw something.
Preferably, Severus. At a brick wall.
When they reached the castle, he was too angry to go inside. He knew he'd do something violent if he saw Severus now. Something dangerous. And while the contract never had said that the supplicant mustn't attack the master wizard and beat him within an inch of his bloody life, Harry was pretty sure he'd better not give in to an urge like that.
So he headed for the pitch and tried to work off his anger another way: by flying. He grabbed a practice broom out of a shed and headed skyward. Around and around the pitch he zoomed, faster and faster, whipping around goal posts, plunging toward the ground at speeds so fast his ears hurt from the wind whistling past them. His hands gripped the broom fiercely, threatening to snap the handle. He might have, actually. The broom was no Firebolt.
As a means of working off his anger, flying wasn't really working, Harry thought with disgust. The longer he was out here, the more furious he was becoming. He wondered how many filthy whores Severus had had, that day, and just what he had done with each one. He wondered if Severus had any favourites among the sex workers in that brothel, and if so, just how often he went to see them. Damn it, Harry wasn't going to stand for this.
Severus was his.
And for once, Harry didn't care what the spell might have to say. Severus was his, and that was all there was to it!
Growling, Harry flung the practice broom aside, not even looking as it flew itself to the practice shed and waited to be let in. His step fast and hard, he marched up the hill to the castle, then stormed inside and headed straight down to the dungeons. He didn't even think about taking the usual route to the upstairs rooms so he could slip below ground unnoticed.
This time, he stomped all the way to Severus' door and shouted the password that would let him in, then slammed the door and shouted for Severus, for good measure.
But the man wasn't home.
Of course not. He was probably still at the whorehouse. Harry sat down, fuming, his lips twisted at the mere thought.
Saturday, October 16, 1998 ---- 7:38 p.m.
"We missed you at dinner," said Severus in a mild voice as he came in and hung his outer robes by the door.
Oh. Severus had been at dinner. Well, he sure as hell hadn't been at dinner earlier, had he? Harry knew just where he'd been, and he didn't much appreciate the way Severus was looking at him now, just as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Ha. He and his little whores had probably used some butter, earlier. As a lubricant. It had featured in that story Severus liked, the one about the alchemist--
"I wasn't hungry," spat Harry, setting aside his glass of firewhiskey. "But you were, weren't you?"
Severus gave him a questioning look, then reached into the pocket of the robe he still wore. "I saw this in Hogsmeade and thought you might appreciate it."
Harry didn't stop to think. He didn't even spare a glance at the small box in Severus' palm. Anger overtaking him that Severus would dare try to mollify him with gifts, he whipped out his wand and incinerated the object. Whatever it was.
A sickening smell filled the room. Scorched chocolate.
Harry wasn't satisfied, though. He wanted to burn more than gifts, that was for damned sure. He lifted his wand again.
But this time, it didn't work. No magic flowed through his wand.
"You can't do magic I disapprove of," said Severus in a hard voice. "What's the meaning of this? If you're upset about something, you might consider letting me know before you start firing off spells."
"I'll let you know, all right," shouted Harry. So Severus was going to use Cambiare Podentes against him, was he? Severus was going to rub it in that Harry was the slave and didn't have any say, and couldn't really object to whatever damned thing Severus wanted to do!
A wave of fury seemed to explode inside him, then propel him toward Severus. Harry landed against him hard, smashing the other man back against the wall. So Harry was the slave, was he? Well, Harry would just show him.
Harry's cock stiffened as he began thrusting his hips up sharply against Severus' thigh. Yes, like that. Exactly like that. Hard thrusts, and then harder ones still, until Harry was grinding against the other man. Severus was his. His. And Severus wasn't going to forget that, not ever again.
"You're mine," Harry said, the words a furious hiss. He wasn't sure Severus had understood, so he grabbed the other man's shoulders and shoved them back against the wall, hard enough to bruise. "Mine. Mine! Say it! You're mine!"
Severus' voice sounded hollow, and like it was coming from a long way off. "I'm . . . yours."
"Yeah, you are, and you damned well better not forget it again," snarled Harry. He'd thought the admission would satisfy him, but somehow, it wasn't enough. His cock was straining, aching, wanting more. "I won't let you forget it!"
Suddenly, the contact he had with Severus seemed like nothing compared to what he needed. Harry struggled for a second, standing on tip-toe, trying to increase the friction, but he couldn't quite connect.
A incoherent sound, something between a moan and a shout, shot past his lips as frustrated, he grabbed Severus by the shoulders again, and this time yanked him forward and threw him bodily to the floor. Then Harry was atop him, cock-to-cock, his hips grinding, short sharp thrusts that gave him what he needed.
Yes, like that. And that. Severus was his, his, and Harry was going to have him. Right here, right now, exactly like this. The way Harry wanted him. Just this way.
But no, this wasn't quite what Harry wanted, he realised dimly through the pleasure pounding through his cock. He needed more. His jeans were too tight, his pants scratchy. Almost chafing. This wasn't right . . . he wanted the smooth slide of skin on skin. Wanted them both naked. Needed it. Craved it.
Harry shoved a hand down between them, tugging at the fabric in his way. Too much fabric, too many layers. Grunting, he started yanking on cloth, yanking until it felt like something popped free and his hand was inside, on something large and hot and heavy.
A cock, but not his own. It seemed to leap into his hand and nestle in his palm, clinging to it with a humid warmth that was just too much for Harry to take.
He stroked it, just one time as his hips kept thrusting, and that was all it took. Harry moaned as he began to come, his whole body spasming along with his cock. Oh, God, did that feel good. Everything about it felt perfect, Harry dazedly thought, from the surges pulsing through his cock, to the firm, heavy handful of flesh sliding back and forth across his fingers.
The pleasure too much to bear, Harry crushed his lips against Severus' and kissed him hard. Claiming him, making Severus his, even sharply biting the other man's lower lip when it seemed like he was trying to get away.
"Mine," he muttered, lifting his mouth finally, well after the last pulse of pleasure had shuddered through him.
Severus yanked his head back down, his own hips still jerking upward, his cock moving frantically in Harry's hand, his arms wrapping around Harry's back to crush their bodies together. And then Severus was coming, too, his kiss growing wetter and almost haphazard as his whole body spasmed several times in quick succession. Warm fluid pooled over Harry's fingertips. Warm, sticky fluid. And that felt good, too.
So much so, that in that instant, Harry couldn't imagine ever wanting to move, again. He just wanted to lie here, atop Severus, his hand between them holding the man's cock, their breathing matched so that it felt like they were one person.
But of course it couldn't last forever. After a few moments, Severus went utterly limp, their embrace ending as his arms dropped away.
Sighing a little, Harry rolled off him to sit cross-legged at his side. He didn't know what to say. Or where to start. It vaguely came to him that he should probably be embarrassed that he'd thrown Severus to his back and had him, right there on the dungeon floor. But he wasn't embarrassed.
"Well, that was certainly a breakthrough," the other man finally drawled.
Harry wanted to hit him. Or use Incendio again, maybe. Not that it was likely to work. And knowing that it wouldn't made Harry angry again. Or maybe, it just made him angrier, still. "Don't be an arse," he snarled, shoving Severus back down when it seemed like the other man was trying to sit up. "That's not what this was about, and you know it!"
It struck Harry then, though, that Severus didn't know it. "What's this all about, then?" he asked, his features almost blank.
No point in mincing words. "You're a liar and a cheat, that's what."
Severus raised an eyebrow as he lay flat on his back, his expression now one of cool amusement. "I'm a liar and a cheat, and that makes you pounce on me and demand sex?"
"I didn't--" Harry stopped quickly, because of course that was exactly what he'd done. "You aren't going there again," he said instead.
That eyebrow dropped, and then Severus' lips twisted a little, like he was brooding. He'd obviously understood. "How did you find out?"
"I saw you!" shouted Harry, the memory still like acid inside him. "All these months I've been trying so hard to get it all back, and struggling, and suffering for it, damn it, and all the time, you were dancing off to visit whores! Prostitutes! You bastard!"
He couldn't help it, then. As Severus pushed himself into a sitting position, Harry struck him, a hard blow to the side of his face. He heard a sickening crack and knew then and there that Severus' cheek was going to sport one hell of a bruise.
Harry stiffened, but nothing happened. Severus didn't hit him back, and the spell didn't appear to notice what he'd done.
Not that Severus looked pleased. He was glowering. "Don't hit me again."
"Oh, so sorry to ruin the moment," said Harry, sneering. Only realising then that he felt uncomfortable, he snatched his wand from where it had fallen, and cast a cleaning charm over his crotch and thighs. Hmm, and hand. At least those spells worked, he thought bitterly as he decided to leave Severus messy. "And just so you know, I will hit you again, if you go to that place. I'll do worse than hit you, and if you think I give a flying flip what Podentes has to say about it, then you can take your head out of your arse for once!"
Severus was lightly poking at his cheek, and wincing. "Perhaps you could calm down while I treat this."
"Oh, I feel very calm," said Harry, getting to his feet. He wasn't quite sure what was happening to him, but he felt like he finally had something he'd needed for a long time. And it wasn't the sex, though that had been good. Better than good. Like a pent-up spell finally set free . . . no, what he had now was something more profound than a moment's pleasure. He felt like he had the upper hand.
He felt confident. Slave or no. "You can come upstairs when you're ready," Harry said, crossing his arms as he stared at Severus, who was lurching to his own feet. His balance looked off, maybe because of that blow. Harry knew a twinge of conscience over that, but ruthlessly crushed it. He was in no mood to be nice. "You can come up and tell me what the hell you thought you were doing! And then you can just come back down here alone, because I really don't feel much like sleeping in your bed tonight. Is that damned good and clear?"
"The contract--"
"Ha, the contract knows that the bed upstairs is yours as well," interrupted Harry in a cold voice. "And I'm going to sleep in it, alone, until you can explain to my satisfaction what makes you such a lying louse and just how you plan to avoid being one in the future. Because I won't be treated like this, Severus. I don't care how much of a slave I am, I'm a person, too. And the contract said for me to be myself. Which I'm being. So deal with it."
With that, he went upstairs and showered, soaping himself all over and letting the hot water rinse him clean. But this time, he felt no urge to tease his cock and balls until he found release.
This time, he was already sated.