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Harry never knew he'd end up playing truth or dare in the Slytherin dorms with his friends. Sure, the situation was obnoxious, to say the least- the three Griffindors, surrounded by men in green (yes, men), as if the whole beef between lions and snakes never excisted.
This actually happened pretty fast. The war had ended, and the students simply returned. One can't be an Auror, no matter how much Harry wanted, without a bloody graduation paper or any other document that would prove that he was actually qualified. So, Harry returned, and his friends followed.
Then the news hit. Snape actually lived. Harry had given it a thought, re-watched all the memories, made sense of it and came to... conclusions.
Draco scooted closer and huffed.
"Dare."
"Lick your shoe bottom."
Harry didn't pay attention that much. At last, it was Ron's idea. Horrific, but there was this thing that happened that made him pull this move.
Ginny broke up with Harry and went for a Slytherin in Seventh year. So now, Ron called Hermione and Harry here so they could all spy the student. Nothing escaped Ron's gaze. Not even little twiches, which were mirrored on Ron's own face.
"Truth."
"Who's your mum cheating with?"
"I know it was a werewolf- is. He survived. His name might be something like Rupus or Brutus, wait- Bruce?"
"Bloody hell."
The wand on the floor, Ron's wand, simply didn't land on Harry at all. He didn't even pay attention. He had studied, uncharacteristic of him, whole night yesterday, and had to write three bloody feet of an essay for potions. He had a right to be tired. Besides, this was their, what, tenth time doing this game.
Hermione looked tired herself, even. Alas. The wand spun again.
"Dare.
"Jump on the sofa and shoud 'I'm an idiot!' three times. Loud enough for the girls to hear it."
"No way! I ca-"
"You know the punishment."
"Yeah, you know."
"... then go ahead."
Three boys got up and grabbed the other one. The punishment was... pretty much removing a piece of clothing and vanishing it. They'd retrieve the lost trousers and shirts later, but until then the poor students would be clad in very small amount of clothes.
This one, though, only had socks and underwear left. Showing him mercy, they went for his socks and returned him. Harry's heavy head didn't snap up until he barely registered his name being called.
"... Harry! For Merlin's sake! Truth or dare?!"
His eyes widened as much as they could. Somewhere, he heard 'last round', so he put his best into opening his dry mouth to respond.
"Uh... dare."
"Invite the first person you meet on your way trough the castle to prom."
"Yeah..."
After that, they got up. Harry yawned and nodded to something Hermione said, then headed out. He didn't expect next thing he did would be to quite literally bury his nose into a warm entity of darkness. Wait no, Snape.
Oh fuck.
"Potter."
Harry hurried and scrambled his way to his feet, fixing his glasses and hair, miraculously fully wide awake.
"Yes sir?", he responded in the general direction of the shadow. His heart beat out of his chest, and he wished he could either reach out and find out it was just a hallucination or-
"What... are you doing... at this late hour... outside of the Slytherin dorms...?"
His voice was forced out, as it was ever since the snake bite. But still, it rang out against the stone walls like bells of a dark, ominous, satanistic church. Both raspy and haunting, and Harry's hair stood upright.
"Homework, sir", he lied. But you don't lie to Snape. There was still no source of light, but Harry felt his professor take a few steps forward.
"Homework...? I highly doubt."
Every word clean, drawn out, silence stretching despite the pause feeling as if it was absent. There was this alluring aura around him, and Harry felt it all over him. He couldn't help himself. He swallowed thickly, but the knot in his throat didn't go down with the saliva.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his chin.
"Fifty points from Griffindor, per person, Potter, and if I find you crawling around my dungeons at this time of night again it will be per strand of your hair, so get... lost, Potter."
Something kicked in, maybe a magical binding to his dare, so he found himself blurting out, "will you please go to the prom with me, sir?"
For a moment that rather felt like eons, nobody moved. Harry felt his lungs burn for air, but he was afraid he'd breathe out too loudly. And Snape seemed to just vanish. Harry was even tempted to dart away, until he remembered the hand on his chin when it squeezed posessi- roughly. Roughly.
"Scatter."
Then he vanished as if he was never there, leaving Harry heaving for breath. He quickly pulled his wand out and cast a Lumos, but the area around him was empty. Even the air was still. As if Snape never grabbed him by the jaw just minutes ago.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as the couple ran to meet Harry. He turned, the tiredness creeping back into him by minute.
"Did you see anyone?"
Harry shook his head- well, he didn't know why, but he just lied. It might have been easier for his tired mind.
"Let's just go", Ron suggested and without further ado, grabbed both their hands and dragged them away.
Harry didn't think of it much until the prom was next week and Harry had to come up with a very good excuse to just not arrive at all, out of sheer shame, because he knew Snape would be there as he was the head of house of Slytherin. However... his friends wouldn't have it.
"Turn around."
Harry did and closed his eyes as Ron assessed his suit. He chose a charcoal black one with a crisp white shirt, a blood red tie and a few gold accents (magically added as gold threads).
"Looks good, Harry. Who're you going with again?"
Harry sighed.
"For the last time, Ron, I'm not going to tell you!"
"But I want to know-"
"You'll see", Harry responded at last and waved it off. Ron sighed.
After a few minutes of silence and contemplating, Harry simply left. The suit was alright, perfect even for the event. Although, he's sure Snape won't even look his way. He took his clothes off and fell on his bed, sighing.
The whole space was glowing in the house colours. Harry himself had just claimed a table and was now waiting for someone to take his order. He won't even drink anything, he decided, he will just leave in fifteen minutes.
He saw Ron and Hermione sometimes, on the edge of his vision, dancing and chatting and swatting at each other. He even noticed several professors, but there was no sign of-
"Potter."
He spun around so fast that he nearly fell off his chair. Then gasped.
Snape's appearance was striking. For once, his hair shone not because of grease, but because it was washed and brushed accordingly. His suit was tight, hugging his form, which turned out to not be as scrawny as Harry thought.
He thought, in that moment, how was he ever attracted to women in the first place when his professor could do this to him. This being the front of his trousers bulging in matter of a minute that he spent ogling Snape as if he were a saint.
Then, Snape rose an eyebrow.
"Waiting for me, weren't you?"
Harry could only nod, finally tearing his eyes away from the man's body.
"Sir, um... why're you here?"
Snape waved over a bartender and sat next to Harry.
"You had a dare, didn't you? Well, I'll let you know... it binds me too, Potter."
Shit. Harry didn't know that at all. He heard his ears ring as Snape went ahead to order them both a glass of pumpkin juice, and as if trough a haze of thought, he accepted the fact that his potions professor actually intended to stay.
"Don't expect me to talk, Potter, if you're waiting for that."
Harry looked up to stare at the pale face of the man.
"Cat got your tongue?", the professor joked, though Harry didn't laugh. So far, Snape was the chatty one, and he couldn't make sense of the man even starting a conversation in the first place.
"You can go, if you want. Find your gi-"
"I'm gay", Harry blurted out to his utter horror. To make it worse, Snape nodded and added, "ah. My mistake. Find a companion... worthy of your attention", he spat.
"No, I'm fine."
"Suit yourself."
Loaded silence fell over them, choking them. Harry took a sip, but he couldn't taste the juice really, which Snape copied, neither looking in each other's direction. They were gazing at the croud, picking out people.
"Even Filch found someone", Snape grumbled suddenly. And truly, when Harry looked, Filch was chatting with a ghost, one that Harry had never seen before.
"Who is that?", he asked. Snape frowned, remembering the name of the deceased person.
"She's... I think she was a professor here. Defence."
"Makes sense", Harry murmured. All defence professor ended up... gone. Seems like this one found a place to haunt.
"So... she's really shy, or?"
"No, I think she knows Filch and he coaxed her out finally."
"Ah."
He watched the pair chuckle and laugh, and for a moment Filch seemed ten years younger.
"Do... do ghosts visit the dungeons often?", he asked, not really caring for the answer. Snape shifted next to him, taking a sip before answering.
"What a dumb question."
And that was really the end of their conversation. Harry had ruined it. As he expected.
"I think I'll-"
Harry didn't even get to finish before Snape grabbed his arm and dragged him away.
"Hey! Where are you going!? Let me go, let me-"
He struggled against the steel grip until Snape stopped and grabbed his waist to keep him still.
"The ball is about to begin, Harry, you can't leave now. Either run off and find someone or stay."
As if on cue, the lights magically dimmed and the murmurs sank to a hush. Music was about to start and people started filling the space, tables disappearing or being shoved aside as wizards, witches and all in between found their pairs, clothes rustling. And he was also in position, the hand on his arm suddenly in his own, the one on his waist softening it's hold and drifting lower, and Harry became aware of his own death grip on Snape's shoulder and his hand.
"Sorry, I can't dance", he whispered. Snape nodded.
"Ne neither."
Their laughter was drowned by the first notes of the music. At first, they stood and glanced around at other dancers, but then Snape took the lead (although pretty awkwardly, but better than Harry so it cancels out) and he followed as if in a trance.
After some time, they fell in a rhythm. Snape lead and Harry followed, although he didn't know whether they should be this close to each other. So close, in fact, that he felt very warm, and he was sure Snape did feel his breath on his neck this time. Fuck, he was tall. And hot.
The hand on his waist tightened again, digging into his flesh, though Harry couldn't blame the poor man when he was also all but groping at his neck and shoulder.
When the song bled into another, slower, almost sultry one, Harry's wires crossed (has someone laced their juices...?) and he 'accidentally' pressed up his front against the professor's. And while he didn't except to be pushed away, he was surprised when the man pulled him even closer, barely dancing at this point.
"Sir- sorr-"
"Save it." The voice was firm, low, a growl. Harry shuddered when he stepped away, although only to not look like he's grinding down on Snape. Doesn't mean he would. The man made his brain fucking turn into liquid like this.
"It's hot in here...", he whispered. Snape huffed in response, then moved Harry against himself, only to suddenly dip him and bend himself after the student. Harry's breath hitched, he barely stayed on his feet.
"Indeed it is", Snape all but growled right into Harry's ear. It took them a good moment to straighten back up, and once they did, Harry fell right on the man's chest like a ragdoll. Snape gathered him in his arms.
The song changed, though the tempo stayed the same. Slow and hot. Just like their bodies.
There were a few giggles next to them, probably students that laughed at their stern professor dancing with the saviour of the wizarding world, but neither of them really cared, much rather paying attention to the details on their faces and the play of light that landed on them, darkness making shadows sharp and defined, light pointing out a few beads of sweat on Harry's forehead.
Snape pulled him closer again.
"Never thought I'd end up in your arms", Harry whispered in his neck. He was very, very tempted to go ahead and just lick it right there and then.
"Never thought I'd voluntarily sign up to suffer like this", Snape bit right back, though this time, his comment didn't hold that kind of heat. No.
They continued moving, dancing. Harry's trousers continued to bulge until it brushed against Snape's thigh and then they froze for a second. Then Snape moved his thigh, pushing it right against Harry's hardness. His cheeks burned with shame.
"I suppose you wouldn't return to your dorms to sleep?", Snape suddenly asked. And Harry shook his head 'no'. Snape nodded, then added, "me neither." Fuck. Harry leaned up to look at his professor eyes wide.
"Why?"
Severus sighed, lips pressed in a thin line.
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Since when?"
"Few months ago..."
Now Snape's pale face took on a pink hue, proving that he actually has blood flow to his face.
"You?"
"That night..."
Snape grabbed his chin, just like that night. It was easy once the first step has been made, and with almost no effort, Harry leaned up rest of the way and they kissed roughly, right there, in the middle of the hall, among students and professors and ghosts too, for everyone to just turn their head and see them. Truly no shame any longer.
Hands grabbed at each other's suits, pulling closer. Closer. It was hot, lewd, and while Harry kissed enough times to count on the fingers of his one hand, it flowed perfectly. Each kiss bled into another, like waves of an angry sea. Snape wasn't so bad himself either, so it didn't take almost any time for it to get escalated.
At this point, he was sure they were the object of attention of many.
When Harry parted his lips, Snape growled and shot a death glare somewhere behind Harry's shoulder while he laid his forehead on Snape's own.
There was no warning, like last time, though Harry allowed Snape to drag him out and into the cold hallways. There, he grabbed Harry's ass and hoisted his student up to carry him rest of the way and into the dungeons. Straight to his bedroom.
The door barely shut when Harry was pressed against the wall and kissed so, so deep. He whined, ground his hips forward and kissed back, hands in the professor's silky hair, grabbing the strong strands.
"Harry", Snape breathed in his mouth, "do you want this?"
With his mind fogged, Harry didn't really have a chance to think too much. He knew a few things for fact- that he wants to fuck, that Snape wants to fuck and that was all.
"Yeah", was all he could say.
Snape peeled him off the wall and carried towards his bedroom, though they only made it to the kitchen table, where Harry was brutally slammed down, though it didn't hurt at all because he was all but tearing clothes from his professor. In return, Snape pulled his wand out of it's pretty holster (the wooden wand you wanker) and wordlessly stripped Harry in a second. He glared.
"Romantic."
"Efficient."
"Asshole."
"Daft fool."
Harry didn't argue further, only grabbed Snape's wand and flung it somewhere, he didn't care because the same man that just called him daft grabbed his face to kiss the very soul within like a dementor.
Once Snape stepped out of his trousers, finally, Harry pulled away and grabbed his thighs to pull them apart and show his hole. The professor's eyes lidded further as he fell on his knees and basically sank his face right between Harry's cheeks.
"OwhhHh-!", Harry moaned when he felt his hot tongue on his hole, hungry lips closing against his rim. His body shook with pleasure.
Slurping sounds and hums confirmed their shared pleasure. Hands grabbed at flesh, then Harry reached lower and skated his fingers trough the black hair of his professor, pulling him closer.
"Fuck, Snape~!"
The surname dissolved into a whimper just as the man's tongue entered his hole, a low growl making the place almost vibrate.
Snape finally moved away, saliva all over his lips and chin.
"As much as I'd enjoy to continue, I'd rather fuck you. If you're amenable."
Harry looked down at the pale face- no, no, now flushed, pretty face of his professor, still between his thighs, and replied, "I said I want this, sir."
He didn't except two fingers to be shover down his throat. His slowed down brain picked up on the movement just in time to stop himself from choking.
Snape pushed them out, then in again, making Harry moan from the obscenity of it all. The fact that they'd use bodily fluids to lubricate Snape's big, fat wand that hung like a dark snake made his brain spark.
His mouth kicked into high gear and he made quick work of sucking and licking all over the salty digits. It wasn't the most delicious, but the look on Snape's face was worth it more than anything.
To look even better, he popped them out, slid his lips sideways and rolled the back of his tongue over the fingertips as if he was playing with his actual cock, and it did things to Snape. He started probing and pulling on Harry's lips, groaning at the sight alone, other hand fisting his already half dick.
"Harry, fuck-", he moaned, and with a sharp exhale, withdrew the fingers. Their next destination was Harry's asshole, where they poked around until Harry accepted them both.
Feeling the fingers scissoring his hole, he let out a string of whimpers. The fingertips stroked all the wrong angles, and for a moment he thought Snape had no idea what he was doing, but it quickly proved wrong with the smirk on the man's face.
"Tease."
"Brat."
"Fuck- hot- oh Merlin-"
In that moment, Snape all but scraped his prostate and Harry saw stars. Their banter was momentarily forgotten, though, trough clenched teeth, Harry replied, "fucker."
Snape clicked his tongue.
"Learn your place, Potter."
"Make me."
Snape stretched his arm and his wand flew right into his waiting palm. He cast a spell wordlessly, probably a lubricating one, and dropped the stick back on the ground as he spread it all ovee himself, before Harry felt the tip brush past his hole.
"Merlin!", he moaned and reached down to feel it. Finally. He felt the head of Snape's dick brush his entrance, teasing and pushing just a bit, just enough for Harry to open up, only for it to slip past.
"More, please, sir, please..."
"More? Here you fucking go, then."
Snape thrust in without an ounce of mercy, taking his pleasure in one quick strike. Harry cried out.
"Ow ow oW OW OWWH", he whined in pain, but all Snape did was go still and shudder. And then Harry felt a burning hot pulse whack his body as his channel realised just how big the phallus brushing even past his prostate was.
There was only one thing left to do now. Snape pulled out, Harry braced himseld, and they both moaned low when the professor's pelvis slapped against his student's ass. Then, they set a slow, deep rhythm, Snape grinding into his ass each time he thrusted home.
Harry, though still awake, was in heaven. The stretch and that weird feeling gave way to unimaginable pleasure, the need to be filled, so he closed his legs around Snape's waist and pulled forward, moving the tempo up.
No problem. Snape picked up the pace and in no time, they were all but breeding, followed by loud, obscene noises. Harry's moans were quickly followed by Snape's grunts, and each time Harry's nails scored down the pristine white back of his lover, there was a wild growl, and then the man would bend down to bite on Harry's neck. And each bite felt like a claiming kiss.
Mindless as they were, they quickly grew almost animalistic, if we could take Snape's snarls and Harry's squeals for proof.
"Harry..."
"Ha- yeahh? - hmmm-!"
"Ha... Harry..."
They huffed, out of breath, while Snape climbed on the fucking table and started pounding into Harry, bent over the student in a missionary position.
"I'm- do- fuckK-"
The feeling left Harry speechless, his limbs cut off from blood supply and in that moment every drop of blood flew to his hole, his dick and his prostate. Cum followed quickly after, and he swore he felt lava hot pulses of liquid spurt into him. He knew that moment thag this won't be his last time, and that Snape will be the one to bring him to the brink of sanity each time.
A few minutes later, the two of them still breathing hard, Snape lifted his head and their eyes met. Really met.
"Sorry", Harry whispered, since Snape's face was so shocked that he felt guilty.
"This was the best fuck of my life, don't you dare apologise."
"Oh."
A sense of pride took over, chasing away any darkness. He felt arms scooping him up, and the next moment they were cradling, sat in Snape's sofa, still all sweaty and sticky from sex.
But it was all right. He was warm, there was a blanket on them in no time. And besides, Snape summoned his stick and cast a cleaning spell, though Harry still felt a warm trickle down his thigh. The spell was selective.
"Potter?"
"I'm awake."
They sat long after that. Long after even Snape fell asleep.
"So, Severus."
Minerva crossed her arms and Severus groaned in frustration. To be honest, last night still didn't wear off- his leg muscles ached, his body felt tingly and he could hear his joints and back creak. The only sign of age in this whole act. He hadn't had any problems with his libido, nor speed, nor strength nor will. But his back.
Anyway.
"I didn't initi-"
"I saw it, I know. But be careful. He tends to be... quite energetic."
She gave him a knowing look, making Severus look down over his robes. Maybe she saw something he didn't.
"Even I can hear your knees."
With a sigh, Severus crossed his own arms.
"Oh, I know how energetic he can be. I experienced it first hand."
Silence.
"Before last night."
"Hm", she hummed and turned away to look at the portraits in her office.
"Break a leg, Severus, or don't try at all."