genre: slash/angst, nc-17
summary: diary –like telling of Harry’s obsession. plot, what plot?
It all feels now like an incredible dream. It started somewhere along my sixth year… I had to slid my hand across his robe’s backside as if by accident. Maybe he noticed it. He was less enthusiastic of taking housepoints from me as often. He looked at me in a weird way occasionally. Perhaps I was staring at him. I had a crush on him that deepened slowly. I started to understand him. I wanted to know everything about him, he intrigued me. Sometimes at night at night I thought that he would fly to me as a bat. I was intentionally trying to get detention, so I could be with him alone, but he always got me something else to do. My hope that he cared about me, started to fade… until one time I bumped into him at Hogsmeade, and he smiled at me. I remember that event like it was yesterday, because I memorised all of precisely into my thoughts. After that we shared a few looks in the classroom. I had doubts in my mind, that I was imagining all of it. At times I was smiling all the time, then I was sulky and depressed. It felt like a game. Nothing really mattered, because all of it could of have been in my head… once we almost bumped into each other in a busy corridor, and he avoided the collision quickly, almost squishing himself into a wall. He turned away as swiftly as a flick of his robes, but I am pretty sure I saw his face turn red. I shrugged it out of my mind. I had made Snape blush! But I couldn’t but sigh at this and think other things. He was avoiding me. I never saw him anywhere, or was able to make eye contact. I lost my hope again. In Potions I no longer looked at him, because I couldn’t. I only looked at him when his face was turned away from me… and at the same time I had ever more hotter dreams of him. I remember one particularly well… He was watching a Quidditch match… there were only the two of us. Everything was somehow cloudy and I coud only make him out, clearly… He was holding the snitch, and I was trying to get it off him. After playing around a little we ended up on top of each other on the green pitch. Our kisses were intense, and he was very gentle….but it was only a dream. Illusion created by my sub-consciousness. Everything changed on the spring of the last semester. Then we knew we wouldn’t see each other ever, and could die fighting Voldemort. I no longer cared about such things like that he was a teacher – and I was a student. I decided to meet him. I went by his door one evening. I decided to do something- Gryffindor were known for their bravery- I faced the fact it was now or never. I knocked and the door opened on the second knock- my fist was left to hang in the air.
‘I was wondering, when you’d come in from there.’ he muttered impatiently. I stepped inside, confused. He sat on his chair, behind his desk. ‘Um…’ I started. I hadn’t really planned of saying anything.
‘Harry.’ he looked me in the eyes, and asked what sort of business I had with him. I wanted to tell him, how I wanted him to touch me, tell me everything about himself…
‘Why did you join Voldemort?’ I asked. He wasn’t perplexed. I felt like he had waited for me to ask for it. He got up and slowly got closer to me. He stopped in front of me, grabbed me by the chin forcing me to look at his own. I stared at his almost black eyes. He asked: ‘Why did the sorting hat put you in Gryffindor?’
I understood immediately. I replied: ‘Because I chose it.’
Then he stroked my cheek with his long white finger. That little movement caused an avalanche of emotions in me, which started from my spine. Everything cleared and shrouded at the same time. I leaned forward to cover his mouth with mine. He placed his hands on my waist, and drew me in against himself. His face felt cool against mine which were on fire. I traced my hands along his back. His hand slid inside my shirt and he squeezed me lightly on my hips, pressing my skin, sliding to my buttocks and I felt his smile when we kissed. It was the first time I had ever been so excited about anyone. I took off his shirt and he, mine. I was quicker and already on his pale chest rubbing his nipples and moving my tongue around them. I made him groan and also get hard. I wanted desperately to get rid of his pants. He hold me back and grabbed my hands. He took me by the hands and led me in a door to his bedroom.
I let out an exasperated gasp. The room was lit with many tall black candles and his bed was wide, and on it waited black, silky sheets. The room also had a fireplace and in front of it a silvery rug. There were no windows. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked, stroking the open front of my jeans. I let out a little whimper and he grinned with a sexy malice. We threw off each other’s pants on the floor, crawling on the bed. After a little struggle he sat over me. On his face he bore that blissful grin. He slid my boxers off carefully and I plead him to touch me more. Instead he took his own underpants off. I swear by Dumbledore’s beard, that my cock almost erupted from the sight that was laid in front of me. He has as a matter of fact the most perfect equipment down there… at that moment I threw myself over him and rocked myself over him landing somewhere around his organ. It is strange how his skin was cool from everywhere else, except there. I didn’t even know what I was doing, but he seemed to enjoy it a lot, because of the moans and panting, when I moved my mouth around his wet cock. Suddenly he asked me to stop.
His breathing had thickened to very fast, and his hips were shaking… not until later I realised he had almost come in my mouth. But he was restraining himself, so that he could bring me pleasure… And then he rubbed me a little bit, using his lips and hands. Before I realised, he pushed inside of me one of his fingers. It totally surprised me, and I tried to back off. Quickly I noticed it felt good. I asked him to continue. He moved two of his long fingers in and sensed I was ready. I begged him to thrust into me quickly and he did with his hard cock inside me, slowly. It caused ripples of pleasure waves all over my body to vibrate from head to toe. I laid there, with blushed cheeks, and begged him to move faster. He backed slowly backwards and caused a riptide inside me. Then he moved faster. In and out… in-out-in… I was moving my hips to this rhythm and screamed from pleasure. Finally we both ejaculated at the same time. He was roaring wildly. Our white fluids mixed and made a terrible mess… we were both clammy and the white matter formed small patches here and there. His black sheets were spotted…’don’t worry about the mess, Potter. Let’s shock a few house-elves with them trying to get these sheets clean.’ Severus mumbled and smiled against my chest. I felt something warm spill inside of me. ‘Professor…’ I stuttered. ‘You were an obsession to me… already a couple of years.’ I continued. He lay there and stated: ‘And you mine. Ever since you came here. I wanted to hate you for things, that your father did to me… but it revealed itself to me that, I hated you for reminding me of too much of myself…’ Severus took a little pause here. ‘People have a tendency to love or hate people, because they see in them their own bad or good traits…’ then he sighed, and after a moment fallen asleep. I felt somehow empty… If you wanted something really bad, but have already accustomed to the thought, you can’t have it… Then what then, when you’ve gotten it? Should you be happy…. or think of what if, it hadn’t happened? What if it had just had stayed… an obsession?
Severus Snape died the next in battle against Lord Voldemort. Harry Potter was seriously injured, but will survive. Voldemort has been languished.