Summary: A fractured mind can't distinguish between right or wrong. Harry Potter/Lily Evans Potter. AU. Incest. One-shot.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters.

Normal.

Harry loved his mother deeply. At this moment however, he absolutely hated her.

Currently, he was sat in the kitchen table, eating with his Mum and their... guest.

His blood boiled as he watched his Mum speaking with Uncle Severus. The bastard's cheeks flushed crimson, his black eyes focused solely on her, shinning with some unknown emotion.

No doubt the older man wanted to touch her, but his mum's actions at the moment weren't exactly welcoming as she was presently fondling Harry, no attempt whatsoever to hide it from the bloke.

Harry didn't much care either, but the long haired freak didn't exactly seem to appreciate it. His newest scar, Harry noted, did nothing to help his already sour looking features. Then again, he doubted anything ever could.

He hated the days when the older man visited them. It made his head throb and it caused his mum to have her worst episodes.

Last time Snape had visited, about five months ago now, she'd cried and muttered to herself for hours after he'd gone. Once, when he'd been seven, Harry had gone down to the kitchen for a glass of water and had found her rocking on the garden, blood running down her arm from a cut she'd inflicted on herself. Used to this, he'd simply helped her with her wound and settled her back into bed.

'I should be with him,' she'd whispered as he took off her bloodied nightgown, tears in her eyes.

'Sev,' she'd spat, 'shouldn't have taken me. Us. You were so little,' she'd whispered absentmindedly rubbing her flat stomach.

'You were meant to be a hero,' she muttered as he'd handed her a calming potion. Holding her as she cried, kissing her when she asked and taking her slowly when she told him to.

From the first moment of awareness, this cabin and her odd moods were all he knew.

He faintly recalls strangers coming in and out of his life once upon a time, but no one concrete or permanent. It had always been the pair of them... with an occasional visit from the greasy older man. Thankfully, his visits never lasted long as he had to leave or they would wonder where he was.

He'd asked who these mysterious they were of course, but it never ended well. Once upon a time, Harry had asked his Mum what lay beyond the boundaries of their home and why they couldn't leave, but that question led to more trouble than it was worth. A blank look had come across her face then, and she'd not moved or spoken for three days.

He'd been frantic and completely terrified. So at the age of ten, he'd learned to not ask questions.

The older he got the more curious he became of course, but asking his Mum was not an option. Nor was speaking to the older man, as they both hated each other with equal measure. And if answers meant speaking to the foul man, then he'd rather not know anything.

He was thirteen, he could go another thirteen years without having answers.

Perhaps it was just simple jealousy, but he did not recall a time where he had actually cared for the nose-beaked man.

Harry hated leaving them, but after an hour into his visits, his Mum usually sent him to bed. It was part of their routine. After he called it a night, that's when the older man touched her and that fact hurt him in more ways than he could ever say.

To think of that greasy man touching the places his own hands had caressed.

To know that Snape's lips had made her moan, caused his stomach to churn.

To think of her warm mouth around the older man's...

The images his mind conjured were driving him mad.

Memories from his own experiences swam through his mind then. Of her beautiful, pale back arched as he thrust into her from behind as he pulled on her deep red hair... of her breasts bouncing as she lay on the table and he moved into her fast and hard... it was too much.

He couldn't lay there any longer pretending to sleep. Not when she was downstairs with him. It made his head throb with the need to throttle the older bloke.

He knew he couldn't though. His mum wouldn't have been pleased. She claimed that they had to be grateful because Severus had saved them. How and why, Harry didn't know, but the fire burning through his chest didn't much care.

He didn't want anyone touching her that way.

She was his Mum.

She belonged to him.

Only he had that right.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, peering into the sitting room. There he found them. His mum was sat on the couch, full breasts exposed, pale pink nipples hardened, as she moaned. Harry watched with jealous eyes as the heavily scarred man was on his knees before her, his head between her legs.

Anger at her betrayal bloomed in his chest.

After so long, he reasoned, he really should have been used to the fact that she allowed Sev to touch her... but it still hurt him.

He could easily complain but his Mum always managed to convince him that it wasn't wrong.

Severus risked his life to keep us safe, she always said. It was all he asked of her, as a gift to him for saving them. It wasn't sex. It was only his mouth and that was okay. Only he, Harry, was allowed inside of her she would remind him, and then when that didn't work, she'd break into tears and pull at her hair claiming that his father would have understood.

It was that last comment that always did him in. If she said his dad would have been alright with it, who was he to disagree?

Even though he didn't like it, she always managed to make him see sense and bring him back to logical reasoning.

He'd had enough of the older man however. One thing was knowing, it was a completely different thing to sit here and watch. That she'd come looking for him afterwards, was the only thing that calmed Harry enough to actually walk away.

It was her usual pattern.

Severus would come to her and later that night, she'd come to him. During these late night visits however, he was not allowed to finish until she allowed it, for some odd reason she had to be completely in control.

With clenched fists, the black haired youth made his way upstairs and settled for the night, struggling not to think about what he'd seen. So he lay back down, and welcomed the darkness and silence all around him.

Sometime later, he heard the front door close, soon followed by the crack of Apparition.

The creak of stairs, light steps, and the creak of a door as his Mum entered his room. A rustle of sheets followed by her naked warmth. He sucked in a breath when she began stroking him from underneath his sheets.

Harry swallowed hard as he felt himself harden. Truthfully, he was always half-hard. She'd made it so. His mum had trained his body to react to her. After so long, his body knew what it was that she offered, and it welcomed it. It had gotten to the point that any and all close proximity with her guaranteed an erection.

He couldn't recall when their sexual relationship began. It had just always been. He couldn't recall a period in his life where she hadn't taken her pleasure from him. Or a time when her body hadn't supplied it.

With clenched teeth, his body hummed when she straddled him and sank into his rigid length. As she rode him, his ears focused on her satisfied gasps and moans.

Bright emerald eyes watched her beautiful, full breasts bounce above him as she rolled and bounced on his dick.

His hands squeezed her hips, desperately longing to grab her and move her as his body demanded.

She leaned over him, groaning in delight as his mouth sought out a rosy nipple and he gently sucked on them. The exact way she had taught him.

He needed to cum. But he couldn't. Not yet.

Mum wasn't done with him and only until she'd had enough was he allowed to - Emerald eyes slammed shut and a desperate grunt escaped his lips. She was so wet and tight. He'd already felt her pulsing around him a few times. Yet she continued to ride him. Using him, making him wish that she would allow him to be on top. Hoping that she'd grant him permission to do as he pleased with her body until he was satisfied and spent.

She rolled her hips and another groan was ripped from him.

He needed to cum.

His mum's wet heat, tightening around him felt too fucking perfect.

He was close. So very close. He knew he should tell her. Warn her - but - but - all thoughts short circuited. He could feel the pressure on his bollocks building. He had to cum. His sensitive cock was overwhelming all his senses.

The pleasure was bordering on painful.

Eyes clenched shut. Squeezing his mum's tits. Groans and gasps and grunts were spilled from his mouth in reckless abandon. Too lost to his pleasure, he had lost the will to hold back his release.

He was going to cum, one more roll of her hips and he'd spill himself inside his mum's delicious pussy.

She of course knew this. She pulled him out and ran her tounge over the sensitive underside of his head.

'Ah! ... Mu-um! ... Ple-ase!' He gasped, begging her.

'Please, please, please' He mindlessly whispered over and over again. All reason gone with the need for release From her mouth, tits, pussy, arse. Anything.

His eyes were still shut but he could hear her smirk in her tone of voice. 'I didn't say you could finish baby.'

She'd accentuated each word with a suck or long lick of his shaft. Completely ignoring his sensitive tip. Occasionally stroking him or spanking her lips with his head, so that the sound of flesh-on-flesh rang throughout his room.

It had been sweet torture.

He grunted with satisfaction when she finally took him into her mouth ... only to pull him back out again with one long and delectable suck, moaning as she did.

Like she was enjoying the taste of his cock.

She didn't stop, but continued this pattern until he was calm enough for her to ride him again. Which she did several minutes later.

Twice more they carried on like this, until he couldn't take it anymore. His body, too wracked by hormones, demanded him to fuck and take.

Harry grabbed her waist, successfully flipping them over so that she finally lay under him where she belonged. He grabbed her delicate wrists and pinned them above her with his larger hand.

He thrust into her, pounding away, as her delighted screams rang in his ears.

He took and claimed.

He stared down at their joining. Completely transfixed at the sight of his hard cock, glistening with his mum's juices, as it pistoned in and out of her bright, pink pussy. He felt her pulsing around him and her tight heat beginning to milk him. Seconds later and with a grunt, he finally had his much sought release, and blissfully emptied his seed into her.

Girly giggles rang out from underneath him as he struggled for breath.

Gasping, he vaguely realised that he had collapsed on top of her. Slowly, and with a moan, he pulled out of his mum and lay beside her. The strength of his orgasm pulling him into the realm of sleep. From beside him, the laughter continued until a soft mouth enclosed his spent and still sensitive cock.

Grunting at the delicate sucking as his mum licked him clean.

Satisfied, he felt sleep pulling at him. He didn't fight it, confident that at least until Snape's next visit, things had gone back to normal.