Harry awoke the next morning with the sun, before any of his dormmates, as usual. He reached for his glasses and found his wand instead. He picked up his glasses and his wand and recalled with a shudder the scene he'd walked in on the night before in search of this exact artifact. He'd been so stupid. He'd known, without hesitation, that his fantasies were pipe dreams, but knowing had apparently done nothing to smother that tiny flicker of hope that burned in his heart. Snape was the first man, hell, the first person, Harry had ever felt this level of attraction towards, he could never have completely convinced himself that nothing would come of it. This did, though. If Snape was attracted to Malfoy (and he hadn't appeared to be resisting in the slightest last night) then there could never possibly be anything between them. Malfoy was smooth, suave, cultured, and quite nice to look at if you didn't mind snobs. Harry was absolutely none of those things.

Before he could start crying again, Harry forced himself to get out of bed and get dressed. Curfew ended in just a few minutes, and he loved being alone in the Great Hall the hour or so before everyone else came down; loved seeing the teachers still sleep-ruffled, no matter how they tried to hide it. They usually buttoned up before any of the other students came down, but as of late they'd stopped putting on airs around him. Harry suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that he would be remaining at Hogwarts for another few years as an Alchemical Apprentice, under the continued guidance of his current Alchemy instructors and the Headmaster. Dumbledore had predicted right at Christmas, as Harry's tentative contract with the Board without formal employment was another frowned-upon non-rule. Dumbledore had tried to make him pick a subject to assist in as well, to sell it to the Board, but the Board had accepted his decision to wait until he received his NEWT results before accepting any additional position. They did expect him to be employed in some capacity, though.

Harry grabbed his bag and left for the Great Hall just as the giant clock chimed, telling the sleeping school that it was 6 in the morning. The corridors were still and silent, with a deep chill that bit at Harry's skin. He concentrated on that feeling as he went, grateful for it. Every time his mind tried to wander to the night before, he focused on the biting chill and for a moment his mind was distracted. He didn't have anyone to blame but himself. He knew better, and he still let himself get taken in by Snape's odd camaraderie. He'd expected, even as he'd told himself he didn't, that something would evolve from it. His own stupid naivety was the thing breaking his heart right now. It was only natural that Snape would choose to… canoodle, as Mrs. Figg used to call it… with his favorite student. Malfoy was clever, good-looking, and Slytherin. Harry was gawky, average at best, and absolutely Gryffindor. How could he have ever hoped to compete?

The Great Hall was deathly still and silent as Harry pushed open one giant wing of the doors. His soft footfalls bounced around the walls, the reflected sky above turning a soft pink and purple as the sun broke the horizon outside the windows. The mistletoe, at least, appeared to be gone. Harry was glad. The last thing he wanted right now was a bunch of people trying to kiss him while he wallowed in self-pity. He'd let himself get drawn in by those damned fantasies. They'd started this whole mess. Harry didn't know where they'd come from, but he hated them. If he'd never started daydreaming, if he could've just gone on hating Snape, then none of this would've happened. Of course, that meant he probably wouldn't have his Alchemy lessons, either. Harry sighed. He supposed, since it had to be, Alchemy was worth getting his romantic dreams crushed for. It was all he had left, now, anyway.

Harry pulled out a book from his bag, and froze when he found a hand, a very familiar hand, resting on the table beside his place setting. He swallowed dryly and forced himself not to look up. He hadn't heard anyone come in, but that didn't mean the real Snape hadn't snuck up on him somehow. He waited, opening his book to a random page. Gentle fingers trailed up the back of his neck into his hair, and Harry stiffened. He wouldn't give in to this. Damn his mind, he wouldn't let himself be taken in again. The hand in his hair gently guided his head to the side as the hand on the table disappeared underneath to rest against his ribs. Hot breath ghosted across the flesh of his exposed throat, and Harry felt his body react, his breath becoming shallow and goosebumps rising on his flesh. He gasped as a warm mouth closed over his pulse and began to suckle. It wasn't rough, but neither was it gentle, and he couldn't stop himself leaning his head further aside, giving the imagined sensations better access. If he was doomed to these damned fantasies for the foreseeable future, he might as well enjoy them. Harry let out a soft cry of desire as sharp teeth raked across the bruise that had risen beneath the suckling lips. The mouth released him, replaced by the tip of the man's tongue as it trailed up to his ear. Harry stiffened as the man hissed in his ear.

"Jealous?"

Harry felt a lone tear slip out as the sensations vanished. He buried his face in his arms on the table and pretended once more that he wasn't crying. Damn Snape, damn Malfoy, and damn his own mind. If this wasn't true insanity, he was afraid to know what was.

-Break-

An hour later Hermione was among the first students to come down for breakfast. Normally, she would have waited for Ron, but the couple had had a huge fight the night before while Harry had been getting his own heart broken. She took the seat next to her friend and pulled out her own book to wait for breakfast. Harry glanced up at the Head Table for the hundredth time since others had begun arriving. Snape still wasn't here. He wished the man would show up. He didn't know why, it's not like he could confront him about the scene he'd walked in on (and he wasn't about to get the man fired over it, no matter how angry he was), but he wanted to see him. Maybe he was hoping to see guilt lace that stoic black gaze. Not romantic guilt, that was stupid, but Snape had to know better than to let himself be seduced by a student. Harry wanted him to know he knew, wanted him to feel as bad as he did, even if it was for different reasons.

"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

Harry looked at her. "What do you mean?"

She reached up and pulled his shirt collar and robe away from his neck. "You've got a bruise. I thought that irresponsible rune you burned into your flesh was supposed to stop you hurting yourself?"

Harry reached up in confusion and clasped his neck. A bruise? How could he have a bruise-? His eyes widened as his head shot around to the Head Table. Snape still wasn't there, but, oh, how conspicuous that was, now. He stood from the bench quickly, his feet finding their own path of least resistance, thanks to the rune Hermione disdained. He threw his bag over his shoulder and walked quickly, purposefully, away from Gryffindor Table and the Great Hall. Fantasies. How in the hell had he convinced himself they were mere fantasies? He'd never had such an active imagination before in his life. And he'd always acted out his part. Dropping a broom, his Christmas presents, his books on one occasion; pressing back against a wall or a tree… He'd thought himself mad, or headed in that direction, to be so physically interactive with his own imagination. He was so stupid.

Harry burst into the Potions Master's office without so much as knocking. Snape was leant against the front of his desk, reading a book. He looked up as Harry barged in, and waved the door closed behind him. Harry continued forward until he was stood directly before the taller wizard. Snape set his book aside.

"What in the actual hell?!" Harry demanded, pulling down his collar to show off his hickey.

"Merlin you're thick," Snape said, his hands reaching out to grip Harry's hips. "I grew impatient."

Harry swallowed as he was drawn into the man's personal space. "Whole time?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Snape shrugged. "Subtlety wasn't going to work on the likes of you."

Harry shuddered as frozen fingers touched the skin of his neck, then shivered as that raven head dipped to kiss his bruised throat. "You kissed Malfoy."

"He kissed me, in point of fact. I did not kiss back." Another suckling kiss.

"He was on top of you," Harry argued, gasping, his hands going up to grip broad shoulders.

"I'm fairly certain that supports my argument."

Harry's breath rattled in his throat as fingers began slowly unbuttoning his robe and more kisses were placed the length of his neck. "Did… did you want him?"

Snape pulled back and looked him firmly in the eye. "No. Are you going to be talking the whole time?"

"We can't do anything," Harry argued, frowning. "Student, teacher? Ringing any bells?"

Snape groaned and laid his head on Harry's shoulder. "Seven years you disdain rules, but this you follow?"

"Your job is more important than my libido," Harry pointed out.

Snape straightened. "Then let me be absolutely clear, Mister Potter." He turned them so that Harry was pressed against the front of the man's desk. His fingers resumed unbuttoning Harry's robes. "This is not a Muggle school." He pushed the black material off of Harry's shoulders and began untucking his school shirt. "Your NEWTs determine your end-of-year grades, not I." Harry gasped as cold hands trailed across the burning flesh of his sides beneath his shirt. Snape picked him up and set him on the desk, stepping into the space between his legs, and leaned agonizingly close. "This is not against the rules."

Harry nodded stupidly. "Right," He managed to croak out. He buried his fingers in that raven hair and drew Snape to him. Hard nails scratched at the fabric of his slacks before trailing up his body. Snape loosened Harry's silk Gryffindor tie, pressing forward as Harry pushed back, wrapping his legs loosely around slim hips. The Potions Master breathed heavily against his lips, tossing aside Harry's tie before beginning to work on the buttons of his own robes. Harry couldn't stop kissing him. He had never felt this level of passion in his life. It occurred to him through his fogged mind that this might have been Snape's actual goal. To torture him, seduce him, for a one-off, like Malfoy had tried on the Potions Master the night before. Harry didn't care. He would, he could admit that much, but right now he wanted nothing more than a culmination of the agony he'd put up with the last several months. Snape seemed more than willing to give him that.

"Ugg," Harry gasped as the man's robes joined his on the floor. The Potions Master nodded as if he knew exactly what he meant. Harry pushed him away slightly as reason broke through. "S-Snape… oh God…" He gasped desperately for air.

"Severus," The man corrected, pressing forward again, rejoining their lips. It was Harry's turn to nod into the kiss.

The Gryffindor reached out with the hand that he'd been using to brace himself on the desk and found cool, pale flesh. He raked his fingers over the hard rack of ribs before gliding around to the man's back and pulling him flush against him. He gasped for air as lips and teeth and tongue trailed down his throat.

"Say it," Snape commanded, pressing against him bodily. "Say my name, Harry."

"S-Severus," Harry breathed in a hiccupping gasp. "O-oh dear God, don't stop."

"Please do…" A new voice countered.

Snape broke away, turning and putting a hand behind him defensively. "Lupin!"

Harry looked over his professor's bare shoulder to see his honorary godfather looking on smugly. He blushed.

"Hey, Moony…" He offered shyly.

The werewolf smirked. "Sirius owes me two galleons. It's coming out of your inheritance."

Harry gaped. "You knew this was going to happen?!"

"Since Fifth Year," Lupin agreed readily. "I'll come back later."

With that, the former Defense Professor left the office, closing the door behind him. Severus turned back to Harry.

"Perhaps my office would have been a better practice ward against werewolves," he said exasperatedly, leaning his head against Harry's shoulder.

Harry chuckled. "S'probably for the best," He replied, still breathing heavily.

"Oh, do you think?" Snape returned, nuzzling Harry's throat. "Do you imagine, Mister Potter, that you might now escape me?"

"Not even if I wanted to," Harry breathed, grinning. "However, my untested libido needed the break."

Snape hummed gently, still nuzzling Harry's neck. "Untested."

"Very," Harry answered with a gasp as sharp teeth nipped at his flesh.

"Then allow me to be very, very clear, Mister Potter," Snape said, pulling Harry off of the desk to stand. He drew Harry against him as if he intended to dance and touched their foreheads together. "I will not be taking your virginity."

Harry slumped, disappointment crashing in on him. He tried to pull away, but Snape's grip on his hand and waist stiffened, holding him near.

"Not yet, in any case," The man continued. He placed an incredibly gentle kiss on Harry's lips.

"You don't want me?" Harry asked, still drowning in disappointment.

"In time," Snape answered softly. "However, I have been working towards this for several months. That sort of endeavor requires a certain finesse in its culmination, don't you think?"

Harry chuckled nervously, not entirely sure what the man was saying. "Planning to wine and dine me, first?" He joked.

Snape hummed against his ear before nipping at the sensitive earlobe. "For the rest of my natural life, Mister Potter."

Harry froze. He had to have heard wrong. No way in hell was Severus Snape interested in him like that. A quick one-off in the man's office Harry had been prepared for, but Snape- Severus wanted a relationship with him? What the hell was he supposed to do with that? How was he supposed to believe that?

"I do not jest, Harry," Severus murmured against his lips. He pulled away. "You should return to your friends for now."

Harry nodded, his brow furrowed deeply. He had no idea what to feel in this moment. He bent to pick up his discarded robe as Snape summoned his tie from the distant corner it had landed in. Harry made to move around the older wizard, suddenly sure that Snape was just trying to get rid of him. Of course, he'd say that. Gryffindors were all heart, Harry should be swept off his feet just to hear him say it. Harry was not. He almost preferred the heartbreak he'd felt before coming down here. At least he'd known how to categorize that. This gut-wrenching confusion was torture in comparison. Snape wanted him, but he didn't. What did that even mean?

Snape grabbed him before he had made it more than a few steps.

"You are incredibly naïve, Mister Potter," The Potions Master said, drawing Harry back against his bare chest.

Harry swallowed thickly. "I-I don't-"

Severus chuckled darkly against his ear. "I meant what I said, Harry. You will not easily escape me, now that I have you."

"But why me?" Harry scoffed disbelievingly. That was the true source of his confusion.

That dark chuckle rumbled against his ear again. "So very many reasons, Mister Potter. I shall see you this afternoon. If you are amenable, we shall discuss this more then."

Harry turned in the man's arms to frown up at him in confusion, wrapping his own arms around a sturdy neck. "You really intend to keep me?" He wondered.

Severus smirked. "With every fiber of my being, Mister Potter. You should return to the Great Hall, you're missed. And your ward on my classroom worked perfectly, before we were interrupted here."

Harry frowned further at this. Then, suddenly, Snape was gone in a blink, like he'd done a dozen times before. Harry started, still poised as he'd been in the man's arms. That hadn't been apparition. Harry didn't know what it was, but… He frowned as the book Severus had placed on his desk when Harry came in flipped suddenly closed with a loud bang. Cautiously, Harry inched towards the desk and book until he could see the cover. After a moment's shock, a small smile spread across his lips and eyes.

"Sneaky bastard," He murmured fondly. He ran his finger over the embossed title of the text before leaving the office, repairing his tie as he went.

"Secrets of the Astral Plane"

~Fini~