Unwinding

Disclaimer: Jo owns them. I simply play with them. Any recognisable quotations were taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

A/N: Untold thanks to Sun for all her 'compound' work!

=======================

Severus stood with his arms around Harry's shoulders, holding his head tightly against his own chest as the boy cried. Snape was not, by nature, a compassionate man, but the sheer energy of Harry's grief flowed over the two of them like water in a fast moving stream. He mentally shook himself as he tried to gain some perspective on the happenings of the last thirty minutes.

After he had searched his mind and heart and found the young Gryffindor firmly ensconced therein, he was faced with a dilemma. He had treated the son of James Potter no better than he himself had been treated and yet, astonishingly, he felt the need to atone for his wrongdoings. The boy had, after all, done nothing to deserve any of the things in his life, save the trouble he got himself into with Weasley and Granger. Ordinarily, Snape simply didn't have time in his mind or his heart for regret. There were too many bad decisions in his past to warrant the luxury of itemizing them and atoning for each sin...

~~

Harry's emotions seemed to come from every pore in his body. He was unprepared for the sheer power that swept through him at Snape's touch, and he clung to Snape as the emotions buffeted him. How could this one man be both the greatest source of his pain and his greatest comfort? Never had he felt so betrayed by anyone. To have Snape not only delve into his mind, but to then stand before him as he was flayed naked by those memories was a fate worse than death. Yes, death would be infinitely preferable to this.

Harry had long been lauded as the saviour of the Wizarding world, and yet, he was unable to protect his mind from Snape. He knew that his particular weakness where the Potions master was concerned was a significant problem, but he wondered again how he could possibly succeed against Voldemort? He felt hopeless, gutted, burned raw by his rage and guilt and death. Death was wrapped all around him, even as he was enveloped by the arms of a Death Eater...

~~~~~~~~~

Severus Snape was not an apologetic man. Quite frankly, the boy got under his skin. Harry infuriated him, enthralled him, defied him, excited him, concerned him, and liberated him. Throughout Harry's school life they had battled with words and wits, and each time that Potter had rolled with the punches and come out on top, Severus had found that a little more of his heart had been lost to the lion. He had denied it of course, any sane man would, but somehow, even as he locked those thoughts away in the labyrinth of his mind, he knew that he was sinking further into an abyss from which there was little chance of rescue.

He gently caressed the untidy black locks pressed against his neck and remembered the last time he had seen Harry. They were on the grounds at Hogwarts engaged in fierce battle, and Snape was trying to save Draco while trying to avoid getting Harry killed. He had fought cautiously, still burning with the horror of his own actions. Killing Dumbledore in accordance with his demands while looking into the face and eyes of the gentle man he beheld as his friend took more courage than Snape knew he possessed. The hatred for his actions had swelled inside him and bubbled with a toxicity that was all consuming, and to hear the young man before him accuse him of being a coward – the irony was almost too much to bear. He had merely parried Harry's spells and hexes, unable, or unwilling, to engage him in battle. He had been able to read the boy's mind with more than his customary ease. Harry was too angry, too emotional. He would never be able to defeat the Dark Lord this way...

Snape remembered only too well Harry's words 'Kill me like you killed him, you coward', and his self-loathing had been replaced with a pain that rivaled Crucio. He had looked at the boy, wandless and lying on the ground before him; still defying him. The blinding rage that those words had caused sparked a furious blaze within him and he had screamed at Harry, his words echoing in his mind as they scraped past his lips and seared everything in their path.

Severus Snape had considered his own emotional state and conceded that he, too, was too conflicted to be in the presence of the Dark Lord. Pursued by the hippogriff, he had Disapparated at the edge of the grounds

Coward! If the boy only knew...

~~~~~~~~~

Harry felt a gradual lessening of his grief, and somehow, inexplicably, he was lighter. Snape's arms around his shoulders had not moved, but the taller man shifted his weight closer to where Harry leaned against him. He looked up into the face of his tormentor, his saviour, and saw the vestiges of compassion arranged across the sharp features. He was surprised to see this side of Snape, although he had spent many a sleepless night wishing for just such a moment: to be held safely in the man's arms.

Harry blinked as Snape raised his hand to brush away the remnants of his tears, and he wondered again what Snape's reaction to his memories would be. Although Snape's features were blurred and Harry's glasses lay broken on the floor, he could clearly see that an enormous barrier had been crossed, or destroyed, made null and void. He tried to stand, and Snape stepped backwards to allow him room. Harry was surprised that his eyes came up to Snape's chin, and that, with a mere backward tilt of his head, he was able to meet the man's gaze. His body felt oddly drained, but his heart beat with disturbing force as he moved his hands reluctantly away from the warmth of Snape's back and waist. Snape's hand had still not moved from Harry's cheek, and Harry could feel his own flesh burn under the fingers. Every atom of his body seemed focused on that spot as every nerve ending screamed out to the others that the sensations of that touch were too much to bear, but too delicious to abandon.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment to savour the reactions of that touch through his body, but quickly snapped them open as Snape moved closer to him again, his hand now moving into Harry's hair...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snape still held Harry to him, swaying slightly with the remembered pain of a night that should have never come to pass. He remembered the pain of Harry's words and, more importantly, the knowledge that he could not have that which he desired most. The irony that he now stood in a dingy room in the Hog's Head with his arms wrapped firmly around Harry Potter did not escape him, and he allowed himself a moment to relish the feel of the young body against his. He could feel his resolve failing as the boy sobbed, clutching to him as though afraid of drowning in his very tears. Snape could only hold him and wait; wait for the dam to break, for the tears to dry and for Harry to once again stand on his two feet. He dared not hope for more.

Eventually, he felt Harry shift, and he moved back to assess the young man's frame of mind. He appeared to be somehow calmed, and Snape was drawn to the mesmerizing depths of Harry's eyes, the still-drying tears giving the green eyes the impression of deep pools. Helpless, he gently brushed a stray tear from Harry's cheek, noticing the boy's quiet intake of breath. He felt it too, the indescribable pull of yearning for more. Snape allowed Harry to stand, but somehow he was still unable to remove his hand from the boy's face. He was surprised to see that Harry had grown even more over the summer and he was almost as tall as Snape. He smiled mentally as Harry cocked his head backwards and looked up into his eyes. Snape fought against everything he felt, knowing that this was wrong, that they were fools, that it was dangerous, but as Harry closed his eyes, Snape's resolve broke. Desire pooled in his stomach and he curled his fingers through the untidy black hair beneath his fingers.

He saw Harry's eyes open moments before his own eyes fluttered shut, and he reveled in the touch of the flesh beneath his fingers and the quivering of his own body. He leaned forward to brush Harry's forehead with his lips, the burn of need and desire and want suddenly so fierce that it threatened to chase logic from his mind. Harry's sharp intake of breath removed what was left of Snape's sanity, and he moved forward to take Harry's mouth with his own, lips crushing desperately together, tongue pushing for entrance and greedily taking what was offered...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry tried to breathe; to gain a shred of sense out of the sensations and emotions that roiled through his body. He tried desperately to draw even one breath that could sustain him, but the pressure in his chest and the pulsing of the blood in his ears made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the sheer power of Snape's touch. For the second time that night, their magic surged between them, twisting and entwining the two men into a moment of their own doing. Harry felt the vibration of the energy as electricity sparked up and down his spine from the movement of Snape's fingers through his hair. His skin erupted in gooseflesh as Snape's lips brushed across his forehead, their dry heat eliciting such a response in his flesh that Harry could only gasp. He barely heard anything other than the pounding of his heartbeat, barely saw anything but the face before him, barely felt anything but pure, unadulterated desire as Snape's lips met his.

The kiss was forceful, born of desperation and longing, demanding entrance to Harry's mouth, and he gave it without question, hardly feeling the pain of his cut lip. Snape's tongue flicked across his lips, exploring, searching, and Harry's body shook with barely contained emotions. He was swirling, spinning in a heady rush, sucked into a vortex from which he had no desire to be free. He felt Snape's hand in his hair, his fingers tightening their grip as he held Harry to him with almost maniacal force. Harry moved his hands over Severus' chest and up his neck as their kiss deepened further, until they were both entwined, their bodies crushed together, Harry's moans echoed by Severus'.

He felt Severus' hands on him everywhere, as urgently demanding as his tongue. Hands everywhere, under his shirt, on his flesh, burning their way across his skin as desire pulled in his groin. Severus was pushing against him, pushing him down onto the desk, removing Harry's clothing almost without thought. He lay on the desk, naked and achingly hard, wanting nothing more than Snape's mouth on him...

~~~~~~

Snape delved into Harry's mouth with a hunger he barely knew he possessed, but which left him utterly breathless. Their kiss intensified as Harry first allowed entrance, and then responded with a passion that rivaled Snape's. Their bodies thrust together and as Harry's hands crept up his chest, his desire exploded, leaving him mindless. The feel of Harry's hands on his neck, in conjunction with the young body pressed up against his, hips grinding together was almost more than Severus could take. The passion built up inside of him, burning him with its intensity, and he groaned with his need, need to have this boy, to taste his bare flesh and feel the heat of his skin against his own chest.

He ran his hands along Harry's back, frustrated by the clothes he wore. He pulled at his shirt, undoing the buttons and casting it aside like so much rubbish. He fumbled with his trousers, removing them almost viciously as he pushed Harry backwards onto the desk. He felt Harry's need as clearly as his own, and he admired the young body as it lay before him, willing, eager, and so hard. Snape removed his own clothing almost without being aware of doing so, and he was once again pressed against his body, claiming Harry's mouth as his own. He could feel the waves of desire flowing from Harry, his moans echoing in the empty room as Severus ran his tongue down Harry's neck, sucking and tasting the writhing flesh, nipping and licking, marking and owning. Harry hissed his pleasure as he rocked his hips against Severus' and moaned his plea...

~~~~~~~~

Harry was on fire. His body shuddered with pure desire as Severus' lips and tongue ignited his very flesh with intense sensations. He wanted him, all of him, inside him and on top of him and all around him. His body cried out its need to be claimed and he groaned at every bite and lick. He wanted this, only this, always this, and he wrapped his legs around Severus' waist, communicating his need with his body, his mind and his voice.

'Severus, please.'

He felt the older man stiffen momentarily as their kiss was broken. Harry's heart beat faster and fear threaded through his mind as he wondered whether he would be rejected, whether Severus would rationalize their situation and decide that it was a mistake. He chanced to look into the face above him, and saw only understanding and desire.

'Is this what you want, Harry? Are you sure?'

Harry had never been so sure of anything in his life...

~~~~~

'Severus, please.'

Harry's legs around his waist and the raw need of his voice shocked Snape, and for a moment he wondered whether the young man was talking purely out of sexual desire. He searched the face below him, flushed and beautiful in his want, and his body ached to be inside him, to give Harry everything he ever needed. Harry's breaths were hesitant, tinged with uncertainty as Snape asked what he must.

'Is this what you want, Harry? Are you sure?'

He had to be sure. He would not take any more from this young man without his express consent, although he craved the flesh below him more than life itself.

Harry's breathlessly emphatic nod was all he needed, and he lost himself in their desire...

~~~

AFTERMATH

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snape came to his senses and glanced around the room. At first he only saw the pile of rumpled clothes that lay messily in a corner, his and Harry's. He saw the sleeping form beside him but had little knowledge of how he'd gotten there. He sensed that something wasn't right and felt a stab of fear as he realised with horror that Harry wasn't moving, nor was he breathing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EPILOGUE

Severus Snape awoke with a start, his left forearm on fire. His head reeled and he fought back the urge to retch as he examined his arm and the Dark Mark thereon, but it appeared innocuous in the gentle morning light. His ragged breaths resounded in his ears, and his body was covered with the cold sweat of fear as his eyes darted frantically around the room.

He saw the pile of rumpled clothes in the corner, the ones that were his and... the others. He turned, half afraid of what he might see, and his eyes fell on the back of the sleeping form beside him. He felt a stab of horror as the memory of how Harry had gotten there slowly crept into his mind, and his heart pounded loudly in his chest. He swallowed thickly and moved swiftly to kneel beside him as he checked Harry's breathing. A shudder of relief flowed through his body, and he slumped momentarily, taking deep breaths to steady himself. The significance of his actions was staggering and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

In his haste to ensure that Harry still lived, he barely noticed the boy's glasses lying shattered on the floor beside the desk. Still mortified by what he'd done, and very shaken by his dream, he repaired the spectacles before he moved towards the sleeping form. He gathered Harry's clothes from their various piles and repaired them silently before he laid them out gently beside the sleeping boy, then he took his own Slytherin robes that he had worn the night before and carefully covered him. He regarded the young body before him as time stretched in order to accommodate the moment. He hesitantly caressed Harry's shoulder briefly before he gently shook him and flinched when the young man shifted violently awake...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry awoke with a start as he felt something pushing against his shoulder. He rolled slowly onto his back and groaned. His body ached in very unusual places, and he opened his eyes cautiously, squinting in the early morning light. He couldn't immediately figure out where he was and why he was lying on the floor, naked under a...! Startled and not a little concerned, he raised his head and looked around, hoping for some clue as to his whereabouts.

He could not have been more surprised when his eyes locked on the face of a naked Severus Snape kneeling beside him. Suddenly, the memory of the previous night rushed through his mind, closely followed by the realization of why he ached and burned the way he did in the places that he did. He glanced down at himself again and noticed that he was covered in the green cloak that his former Potions master had been wearing the night before; the night when Harry had blasted open the door of his room and had been prepared to kill him, once and for all. Harry remembered how his blinding fury and all-consuming desire to extinguish Snape's life had coursed through his veins like possession. He also remembered how Snape had hurled his own anger back at Harry, how they had warred with words and more. Harry recalled again how his anger had broken within him like a fever, burning its way through his mind and soul, and now, on the other side of that blazing torrent of pain and anguish, he felt... mended, healed, or... something. The burden of his wrath had been lifted in the most unlikely way possible.

Harry opened his mouth to say... he didn't know what, but the movement caused a burning pain in his lower lip. Graphic images flashed through his mind. Oh, yes, he remembered how that had happened too...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus noted Harry's confusion and fought against the impulse to explain. He thought it best that his former student come to his memories on his own terms, and in his own time. He saw Harry open his mouth to speak and, noting the line of dried blood on his face, ran a regretful finger along the bruised and swollen lower lip. He was mesmerized by the way Harry's emerald eyes were intensified by the Slytherin green of the robes draped over him. The sight of the brave young lion enveloped by the snake's skin pleased Severus, and he felt as though his anger and hostility had been withdrawn, annulled. He felt oddly triumphant and yet, just a little broken.

He carefully regarded Harry's expression and waited for any sign of anger, remorse or danger. There was none. He watched as green eyes found the Dark Mark on Severus' forearm and marveled as Harry gently traced its outline with his thumb. He felt a shiver up his spine as Harry placed his own palm firmly over the Mark and completely obliterated it with his own flesh. For a fleeting moment Severus could almost see his arm as it once was, before life debts and the war, Unbreakable Vows and the Dark Lord...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry regarded Severus' expression as the man touched his face and his lip almost apologetically. Such tenderness was completely unexpected, especially in the wake of all that had gone before. He searched Snape's face and body as he pondered those thoughts, and his eyes found the Dark Mark etched on the man's forearm. He traced it thoughtfully with his thumb as he considered the enormity of that branding and realized that what he knew of Severus Snape was coloured by this very Mark. He realized that, had their situations been different, their interactions would probably have been of a much better quality. If only there wasn't the war or the Dark Lord.

Harry covered Severus' Mark with his hand, as if by that act alone he could in some way begin to salve the distress and suffering that Severus must have endured. He felt a sudden freedom within his chest and strength within his own body, and as he looked up he sensed much the same in Snape. Their war was over.

~ fin ~

=================

A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I've been humbled by harsh but constructive criticism. As a result, the original plotline has been reworked and modified significantly, and I think it became a better story because of it.

However, the original plotline resides at Eros & Sappho, and can be found via this link.

http://erosnsappho.sycophanthex.com/viewstory.php?sid=2049