Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Most Loyal
Chapter 21Since he didn't know anything about this type of magic, Harry wasn't entirely sure about this. If Snape was about to do him harm, Harry doubted he'd do it in front of all the headmasters' portraits.
"It'll be better if we sit. I'm not going to catch you if you faint."
"I wouldn't expect you to, sir," Harry responded, resisting the urge to snort with memories of occlumancy lessons in his head and a phantom pain in his knees.
Snape sat down on the middle of the sofa.
Harry seated himself on a chair.
"Next to me, Potter. Touching wand hands is easiest."
"Oh," he said, getting up. Snape could have said something before this. "So um …" Harry started, holding out his right hand. He thought Snape was also right-handed so one of them would end up reaching over the lap of the other. Maybe he should move the chair.
"Sit down already," Snape said, sliding to his left.
Harry sat on the couch with a response of "Yeah."
Snape held his right hand out to him.
Harry looked at it. What did he want him to do, kiss it? Snape's hand was bony and an unhealthy yellow shade, like the rest of his skin, with bulgy veins that were bluish. It was an ugly hand. There was even black hair on the back of it, and on the base of his fingers before the first knuckle. His fingernails were clean and trimmed normally, rather than shaped into talons. If they had been filed into points, Harry probably would have noticed that sooner, but he really never spent any time looking at Snape's hands, nor wanted to.
Rather than doing the wrong thing, Harry held his hand out.
Snape put his hand over Harry's interlacing their fingers and closed his hand so his fingers descended between Harry's. It was a firm hold, but not painful.
"What do you feel besides my hand?"
"Um…" Harry said, trying to think of what the right thing to say was. He turned his hand and tightened his fingers together to get a better feel of Snape's. Snape wasn't reptilian cold or anything odd that he noticed. He looked at Snape's left hand. The only thing that came to mind was no wedding ring.
"Lumos," Snape murmured.
"I felt something." Thankfully his hand didn't start glowing. "You can't use me like a wand though."
"No," Snape answered. "I didn't put the effort into casting it wandlessly. You know the difference?"
"Maybe. Wandless is hard?"
"Intent has to be stronger. The incantation did get your attention. Trace it back. Lumos."
Harry put his left hand over the back of Snape's and closed his eyes. "What should I be looking for?"
He felt Snape shift on the seat next to him, crowding closer as their thighs touched, and felt Snape's other hand touch his throat before sliding a couple fingers under the neck of his jumper. His index finger pressed against Harry's Adam's apple so he opened his eyes. Snape's face was close to his.
Harry asked, "What are you doing?"
Snape didn't meet his eyes, but looked lower as he said, "We can do magic together."
Harry became worried. Snape did mean that literally, right? Not the impropriety that Dumbledore talked about? Because something felt weird. Inappropriately weird because he was getting wood and could tell his heart rate was increasing by the way he was throbbing in his pants.
"Lumos."
Harry felt a jolt. It wasn't necessarily physical but it was internal, sort of like the thrill of flying – diving to catch the snitch exciting. There was the physical feeling too, and not a good one, considering whose hand he was holding. Harry was now broomstick hard. Shit. Why now? Ginny – no, don't think about Ginny. Snape. Yeah, that would get rid ot it. Look at Snape. He has creepy, black eyes.
"Potter."
"What?"
"Is something wrong?"
"No, sir. I felt you cast the spell. That's it."
"Oh. It shocked you?"
"Huh?" Harry said while thinking that Snape's black eyes looked more concerned than creepy.
"The look on your face."
"Oh, uh, I'm fine. Yeah, fine."
Snape nodded and removed his hand from Harry's. "The joining is seamless, not forced. You understand?"
"Yeah." What if Snape could tell? If he was a great occlumens, wouldn't he also be good at legilimens? What if he … not that Harry was thinking of Snape in any way like that. And Harry hadn't spied on him taking a shower to see him naked. Harry dropped his eyes. Noticed the way his trousers looked, and shifted himself on the couch while looking at Snape's black robes.
It'd be funny if it was happening to someone else … like Ron, or maybe not now that Ron struck out on his own. Just that he had to think of it not being him in this situation because Harry didn't want any sort of urges like this towards Snape.
"Your wand."
Harry squeaked, "What?"
"Do you want to cast something with my hand between yours and your wand?"
"Oh." Harry was relieved that Snape had not been speaking of his other wand that really wanted attention.
"Mine doesn't react well to the touch of others."
Harry nodded. The Weasleys had told him Percy's wand didn't like them messing around with it.
Harry pulled at his jumper and slowly stretched it downward so the waist band might cast a shadow over his problem while also pretending he needed to search for his wand.
Snape allowed Harry to put his wand in his palm and left his hand extended so Harry could comfortably fit his hand over Snape's.
Snape said, "Cast something simple."
Harry wanted something more spectacular than lumos. There was a spell he was really good at. "Expecto -"
"No." Snape pulled his hand back.
Harry didn't let go. "- patronum."
Bright, silver light fountained from his wand and it coalesced into Harry's stag and Snape's doe. His stag was brighter than he had ever seen it, and it was daytime. And Snape's doe was just as bright and almost as big.
Harry's mouth dropped open. Behind the legs of Snape's doe, a baby deer was peeking its head around her before taking a step forward. It was equally bright and the spots on its back were even brighter – almost blinding.
"Did our deer have a baby?" Harry asked.
He looked to Snape when he received no answer.
Although Harry still held the professor's limp hand in his, Snape was slumped over with his eyes closed. His skin more grey than yellow at the moment.
Harry let go of his hand and got up to check on him. He was breathing. Harry put his hand on the man's forehead. He wasn't hot. Cool? Would it be called clammy if he wasn't sweating?
"Trying to kill the headmaster?" someone insinuated.
Harry glared at Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait. "Can't you say something more helpful?"
"Bravo," Phineas Nigellus muttered while faintly clapping his hands together.
Dumbledore suggested, "Perhaps put Severus's feet up."
"Up where?" Harry asked.
One of the portraits groaned, "Oh Merlin!"
Another called, "Get some help. This boy's a brainless pillock."
Annoyed at being called a boy at 18, Harry knew he could handle this. Somehow. Breathing was good. He could check um … his pulse? Harry's hand stopped before pressing a finger to the professor's neck. If he was breathing, then his heart was beating. Probably.
Maybe he needed to loosen the neckline of the professor's robe. It looked tight, and Harry could handle unbuttoning a button or two.
The buttonholes were barely larger than the buttons so Harry was attempting to pry the second button through when Prof. Snape opened his eyes and almost immediately jerked, shocking Harry with some stray magic.
"Hey!" Harry shook his numb hand in the air.
"What are you doing?"
"Uh …" Harry pointed toward Phineas Nigellus. "Prof. Black suggested I help you."
"You were molesting me."
"What? No!" Harry held his hands out. "It's one button. Way up here." Harry touched his own throat.
"After not following directions."
"You could have –" Harry stopped. He knew it was a weak excuse before he said it. He changed the subject. Oh no, the animals were gone. "There was a baby deer- It was really cute. I wish you could have seen it."
Snape grunted, "A fawn."
"Huh?"
"A baby deer is a fawn. Was it injured in any way?"
"Uh, no. I don't think so. It was standing with the doe. Your patronus. Did our patronuses have a baby?"
Snape glared at him.
Was it that stupid a question? There was a stag, a doe, and a fawn. It made perfect sense to Harry. Why couldn't there be a baby deer if their patronus was each a male and female of the same species?
"You are so –" Snape grunted and put a hand on his stomach, rather than continuing to insult Harry as he tried to stand.
Harry reached out.
"Don't."
"Are you hurt?"
"Get out of here, Potter."
"Can't I help you …?" Harry let his question hang. He didn't know what to suggest. The professor didn't look well. Still kind of greyish, maybe a little green now too.
"No. Leave me alone."
"Okay, if you're sure."
"I am sure. Now get out."
On his way down the stairs, Harry realized Gryffindor didn't lose any points. Maybe Prof. Snape really was injured.
He didn't have time to mull that over or formulate a plan on what to do when the griffon opened and Prof. McGonagall almost ran him down.
"What happened, Potter?"
"What?"
"I was told Prof. Snape had been hurt."
"Oh, by – um, I offered to help but he told me to leave."
"Did he fall?"
"No. I … we were … I didn't mean to …"
"Let me up the stairs, Potter."
"Oh right." Harry flattened himself against the wall to let Prof. McGonagall pass, then followed her.
She stood in the headmaster's office, looking from side to side before Dumbledore's portrait said, "Severus went upstairs."
Harry followed Prof. McGonagall upstairs to Snape's bedroom.
Nothing much had changed since Harry last followed Snape up here. Snape, himself, was lying on the bed, his sandals discarded on the floor. Fawkes crooned lowly as he pulled Snape's hair with his beak.
Since Snape wasn't saying anything to the bird, Harry thought he was in bad shape.
"Severus." Prof. McGonagall went to the bed and grabbed Snape's shoulder.
"Stop touching me."
"If you mean run because the curse will pass to me, you know I won't do that."
"No, I want to rest. Leave me alone." Still not moving, Snape added, "Get off me, Fawkes."
Fawkes was as obedient as Prof. McGonagall and slid another batch of Snape's hair through his beak.
Prof. McGonagall removed her hand from him. "I'll floo the healer."
Snape grunted something. Harry wasn't sure if he meant to speak or not.
On her way back to the door, Prof. McGonagall looked at Harry but didn't tell him to leave. He couldn't tell if she was stern-looking because she was worried or disapproving of Harry, either being here or for hurting Snape.
Perhaps it was just a look to indicate Harry should behave himself while keeping an eye on Snape.
Harry slowly approached the bed and Snape's back.
Fawkes continued preening Snape's hair, not giving Harry any of his attention.
Harry reached his hand out to touch Snape, but decided to sit down on the edge of the bed first before touching his shoulder.
He leaned forward to look at Snape.
Snape had his eyes closed.
Harry touched the same shoulder that Prof. McGonagall had.
A dark eye opened and looked his way. "What are you doing now, Potter?"
"Prof. McGonagall wanted me to keep an eye on you while she um …" Harry looked at the open door behind him. Was he supposed to know Prof. McGonagall was flooing a healer?
"Are you fishing for another eyesight insult?"
"What?"
"You are touching me with your hand. Remove your hand and your person from this room."
"But I want to help. Can I get you some water or something?"
Snape budged more towards the center of the bed, disturbing Fawkes and keeping his back towards Harry. "No, go away. I want to rest. I told you to leave earlier."
"Prof. McGonagall didn't want you left alone."
"She would not leave me with a lip-strumming pillock such as you."
"Hmm." Harry sounded agreeable so Prof. Snape wouldn't turn and hex him. He didn't think Snape was totally incapacitated since lip-strumming was a new insult, at least to him. And Harry had heard a lot of insults from Prof. Snape.
Enough time passed that Harry wondered what was keeping Prof. McGonagall. Wasn't this an emergency? Maybe he should distract Snape and take his mind off of things.
"Sir?"
A noise that could be both an exasperated sigh and a grunt escaped Snape. "What?" he asked peevishly.
"Um … about the coupled magic thing –"
"Tandem or group, not coupled, Potter. Even when you're doing it with Granger."
"Yeah that – if it's unsafe, why isn't safety taught at school?"
"Other than you trying to siphon off my magic? Tradition. Our history is full of great wizards and witches. Powerful in their own right by themselves. Might makes right. And the ability to practice the ability to become mightier wouldn't be in their best interests."
"But there's not a lot of powerful witches or wizards at one time."
"Correct. Howver, they're special and therefore make or break the rules."
Harry frowned. Was Snape trying to make this about Harry? He was asking serious questions. This time Harry groaned.
"Potter, it's not always about you. And your heyday may be over." Snape turned his head to look at him. "Did Dumbledore worry about laws about setting up portkeys, manipulating children without their parents' consent, or pretty much anything he decided to do for the greater good?"
Harry seriously needed to consider getting Snape to write an opinion piece on him for the The Daily Prophet. He wished his 'heyday' was over. But at 18, plenty of people would want it to keep on going like the Hogwarts Express.
Wait, why was the Hogwarts Express suddenly in his pants again? What was wrong with him?
"Uh, sir, this curse you have, does it do things to people around you?"
"No."
Shit.
While Harry's mind raced through unsexy thoughts of blast ended skrewts and Umbridge, Snape said, "You were next to me when I was cursed, Potter."
"Yeah? What? I mean I know it was meant for me, sir. If I hadn't –"
"If you kill me, it could be all yours."
"No! What makes you think I'd … I'd …" Harry's anatomy had a lot of ideas of what he'd like to do and it was difficult to rub two thoughts together that weren't naked and sweaty.
"Why yes, it is a twisted curse, isn't it? And I doubt you'd want it. Even if you are starved for attention now."
"Attention?" Harry repeated trying to catch hold of his thoughts. Could he run over to the lavatory under the pretense of intestinal distress? He doubted he'd need more than a dozen strokes to finish himself.
"The house elves are over the moon about the whole thing."
House elves were not sexy. But they could … no. No. No. No.
Snape's face contracted.
Oh no, legilimency. Harry looked away but instead of seeing the rest of the room, his mind fixed on an image of Snape with no shirt. Beneath him. Eyes closed. Mouth open. Gasping for air.
"What's wrong with you, Potter?"
"I don't know! I … I … I don't want to, but I keep thinking about strange things."
"Stranger than this curse?"
"Uh … maybe it's related. How do we know you're the only one cursed?"
Snape let out a laugh.
"What?" Harry asked.
"You really have no idea? If you don't, you're overthinking it. Or Granger is. Maybe with your report from today, she'll realize."
"Well, um, is it none of my business? I mean I haven't … and you're not … but I … I think something's wrong with me."
Since he wasn't looking at Snape in order to avoid letting the man see the crazy thoughts in his head, Harry didn't see the wand out of the corner of his eye till too late.
"Hey."
"You're not cursed with me, Potter."
"Wait, it's that simple to check?" He hadn't seen Snape's wand movement and the man had cast his spell nonverbally.
"Yes."
"Was it possible I was cursed?"
"I suppose, yet whatever symptoms you are currently suffering from are not due to the same cause as mine."
Harry risked a glance at Snape's face. "Is there something that's like imperius, but not like imperius?"
"There's many things that can affect the mind or change perceptions. Are you under some compulsion to do me injury than feel remorse over it in such a way you won't stop pestering me?"
"You're hurt? I mean like really hurt, not just um … uh, that didn't sound right. I meant um … I don't think you'd be lying in bed with me sitting on it next to you if you weren't."
"Or send Prof. McGonagall racing up and down stairs."
"Yeah."
"Perhaps it would be simpler for me to tell you what the curse is, rather than continue this conversation for the next few months by which time it would be known."
"What? I mean … what'll be known?"
"First, who do you intend on sharing this knowledge with?"
"Uh, are you swearing me to secrecy?"
"I'd prefer not too many others know because it may spread. Since I could be injured or killed, the curse would travel to another. You'd be at risk to receive it, but those who are confident they would not be a victim may consider me fair game."
"Why would someone do that?"
"For amusement."
Harry was not James Potter. Was Snape as bad as Sirirus confusing him with his father? "I don't find this amusing, sir."
"Really?" Snape's black eyes sharpened.
Harry swallowed hard, rather than looking away. The possibility about finding out more about this curse diverted his attention enough that his dick wasn't about to take over the rest of his body. It was still uncomfortably hard and strained within his underpants, but the impulse to reach in, pull himself out, and wank himself blind had evaporated.
"I've been cursed with a number of tangential afflictions while I am pregnant with the heir of Slytherin."
Harry's mind hung up on the vagueness of 'tangential afflictions' and Snape's need to use big words, then the simple statement broke through that wall. Harry's mouth dropped open as he processed that last bit. Finally he clarified, "What do you mean pregnant with the heir of Slytherin? Like a basilisk egg or something?"
"Wizards do odd things with magic, Potter. The result will be a witch or wizard. Though with a combination of my looks and Slytherin's simian features, a basilisk may be an improvement."
Harry glanced at the stack of books Snape had by his bedside. He was reading them because he had a baby in his body? No, that was … Harry laid his hand on Snape's covered abdomen.
Snape cast a stinging hex. "Don't touch me like that."
While Harry shook his smarting hand, he had a momentary thought about getting physical with Snape again. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. But … I mean I'm torn between being fascinated and repulsed and … something else. And I'm concerned about the something else because I think I'm mental."
Prof. McGonagall's voice preceded her. "Severus, she wanted me to check … Potter, what are you doing here?"
Harry's mouth opened because he wanted to explain how he wanted to help and possibly misunderstood her earlier when Snape muttered, "Potter does whatever he wants, wherever he wants."
His head of house stared at Harry and asked, "Did you want him here with you, Severus?"
"No. I've told him to leave more than once. Especially now that Potter confessed he is mental."
Prof. McGonagall stared at him.
Harry pulled at the hem of his jumper again to cover the part of his anatomy he was about ready to jinx off. "Yeah, and I can't even claim that's taken out of context," Harry said. "Now that you're back, Professor, I'll go." If he could walk with this broomstick between his legs. Had someone cast some spell on him as a prank? Or as Snape said – for amusement? This wasn't funny. And the curse Snape had wasn't funny, and killing him to prank someone else with it wasn't funny. Harry was not amused in the least over anything at the moment.