Disclaimer: Harry Potter is still the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Inc., along with various and sundry publishers including but not limited to Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Bloomsbury Books, etc. I am only writing this for fun.

Warning: Please be aware that this story contains slash and will eventually have a solid 'R' rating. Please desist reading if you're uncomfortable with this.

A/N: I am sorry I've taken so long to update. I lost inspiration for a bit. I will not abandon this story, however long I leave for. The next chapters should be up much faster than this one as I've got a better handle on what's going to happen at what time. I'm still my own beta, so feel free to comment where you think I may need a second opinion. Thank you very much to those who reviewed: Amandinka, mooze, Elena 22, MistressCoCoLoVeR, and ObscureTwin (I took your advice - thanks). I do so appreciate you! I hope this chapter is worth the read.

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Traitor

II. Stratagems

It was growing darker steadily. Insects darted about in the cool twilight air, and the many birdsongs of the day began to lessen into a still evening quietude. This all escaped one James Potter, though, as he idly swatted a gnat away from himself while attempting to concentrate on keeping his footing steady in the tangled grass. Huffing exasperatedly, he stumbled after the foul-tempered Slytherin, whose strides were unnaturally smooth and hasty.

"Hey, Snape! -- Slow down!"

"Walk faster," came the austere retort from somewhere ahead.

James frowned unappreciatively to himself as he followed, hopping over the erratic patterns of the wind-torn branches that were strewn upon the ground. They were leaving the lake and the path surrounding it; heading, in fact, towards the Forbidden Forest. By doubling his pace, James was able to fall into step beside Severus.

"Wait. Are we going in --" James indicated the thick patch of knotted trees ahead that marked the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

"Yes. Not frightened, hmm?" Severus queried absently.

James scoffed. Afraid of the Forbidden Forest? Not likely. "I'm not scared, Snivel --" A beat. "-- Er, Snape."

Severus scoffed nastily. "Saving the insults for when you have Pettigrew and Black hanging upon your every word? Nobody to impress out here, Potter," he spat in a glacial tone of voice, pushing on towards the awaiting shadows without expecting a reply. He still held suspicion that the Potter boy was up to something two-faced, but felt confident in his defensive abilities against the lone Gryffindor. Perhaps he'd finally get his chance to come out on top.

Nearly twenty minutes passed, the two boys having stalked at a moderate pace through the wood together without even one exchange of words. It was getting late; they would have seen stars beginning to dot the velvet canopy of night above them if the trees were not so dense and thick. It was cold, too. James and Severus were both lost in their own thoughts, and the Slytherin almost failed to recognise the sought-after plant until he walked directly into it. He'd have to pay better attention…

"How'd you know this grew here?"

Severus broke away from his reverie as he registered the sound of James' smooth voice cutting silkily into the quiet night air. The Slytherin felt momentarily unbalanced as he realized the other boy stood rather close. There had been an even distance between them for the walk, not that he was thinking about it or anything. It didn't matter. Now, what had Potter said? Severus pretended to act as if he didn't care, which proved successful.

But Potter was staring. That much was obvious, even in the last vestiges of evening light that bathed the forest mildly. Severus suddenly felt too unnerved to feign cool indifference.

"What?!" He snapped irritably. "Harvest, Potter, and stop gaping at me." In order to remove himself from the terrible awkwardness, Severus turned his attention to the red fruit they were supposed to be collecting, superficially examining its varieties. Try as he might, he felt totally unhinged on the inside. What was happening? He had been wrong to agree to come. He should have fled.

James ignored the plant. "What are you thinking about?" he pressed on eagerly. There was a pensive sheen to his gaze, and his calm exterior did not reassure the flustered Slytherin.

"The extent of my misfortune at being partnered with such an indolent sod," Severus bit back reflexively. Well, it was partially true, anyway.

"Just relax," James replied evenly. "I don't know how you manage to get through each day acting as if there's a wand shoved up your arse." There was laughter in his tone.

Severus narrowed his eyes in the dark, feeling distinctly affronted. "Honestly Potter, childish insults are your social crutch."

"You just called me an indolent sod!"

"You are an indolent sod, Potter; it was merely an assertion of fact. I don't stoop to your level of juvenile behaviour."

James chuckled. Severus was not amused.

"Do you remember the Shrieking Shack?"

Snape tensed, abandoning his rosehip at the question. "Your clever prank, you mean? The one your filthy werewolf friend helped arrange? Let's lead old Snivellus to his premature death; it'll be a first-rate laugh?" His tone was curt and firm.

James had the grace to appear remorseful, at least. "No… That wasn't my idea. I wanted to stop it. Don't you remember? I'm sure you remember that I sav--"

Severus hissed in protest before the words had a chance to leave the other boy's mouth. "Get it straight, Potter. I did not, nor will I ever, require saving. Especially not from you. Don't flatter yourself otherwise, not for a moment." He was startlingly vehement; and, pivoting on his heel, made to return to the Hogwarts castle.

A hand seized his thin wrist firmly, halting him in his rapid tracks. "Wait. Just… wait."

Severus pursed his lips angrily, making a vain, yet respectable effort to extricate his forearm from the Gryffindor's unyielding grasp. "Get off my fucking arm," he spat in warning.

James raised an eyebrow, never having been acquainted with Snape's less formal mannerisms of speech, but decided it was not important enough to pursue. First time for everything. "I'm sorry," he offered. "Please don't leave. At least, we came out here for a reason. We might as well…" He gestured to the rosebushes. "You know, you really are too tense. Like you're thinking I'm going to hex you at any moment. I'm just trying to get this project done."

Severus had no idea what to make of it. It was dark now, but there was still a dim blue light enough to make out the graceful curves of James Potter's features. Again, he felt a surge of envy. Nobody would ever think Severus Snape as delicate as the popular Gryffindor boy was. The idea was laughable. Severus hadn't bothered trying out for Slytherin's Quidditch team, and only turned up in secret for each match, watching eagerly from beneath the stands. James Potter was painfully smooth on a broom. The Gryffindor epitomized everything Severus felt he lacked. Yet, James was somehow… alluring, when he wasn't flanked by his stupid friends. It was not a comforting prospect.

Suddenly, Severus felt the object of his musings had moved closer. James' warm hand came to rest tentatively on Severus' small shoulder, breaking him out of his reflective state. "Don't worry," the other boy whispered reassuringly. Both of his hands were touching the Slytherin now, as the other still held fast to a bony wrist, just as it had done earlier in the day when James had restrained his victim for a little afternoon taunting. Severus wanted to laugh and cry in the same moment. What was transpiring?

"Potter."

"Hmm?"

"Please unhand me."

"I would rather not."

Temper lost, Severus let out a short breath. "You're holding too tight."

"Sorry," James answered quietly. He loosened his grip on the smaller boy's wrist, moving his hand almost casually along the soft forearm just underneath the hem of Severus' cloak sleeve.

These moves found Snape quite petrified. Confusion occluded his logical thinking processes - it must have been a joke, but why couldn't he understand its meaning? What was he supposed to do? Any words he wished to speak were caught in his throat; any actions disconnected from his will.

Severus felt that James was closing in on him; as a cold breeze swept briefly past them, he thought he could smell the soap James must have used. Severus trembled, and felt a hand smooth his hair and rest on the nape of his neck. It was warm. Severus didn't look up. He didn't want to see James looking at him, which he knew the other boy was doing. He felt sick. His stomach was not supposed to flipping over inside him, but that was what it felt like. Why? It was uncomfortable, yet wild and kind of thrilling.

"At least it's an improvement from your running away," James remarked quietly. His breath was warm. Severus could feel it on his neck.

"What are you playing at?" the Slytherin managed to vocalise. There, his vocal chords weren't entirely ineffectual… yet.

"Nothing. I just… I don't know. Just don't leave."

"We're going to miss curfew," Severus remarked guardedly. Blast, why aren't I fighting him?! He's going to think I like this.

Severus made a very feeble attempt to slip away from Potter's embrace, which failed miserably. James only pulled him closer. Now they were touching.

"Curfew? It doesn't matter! I mean, I don't care… and neither should you. Stop worrying. Fuck the curfew."

"Language, Potter."

"You said it earlier. Severus."

"Maybe you don't care about losing house points, but I -" Severus stopped. There was something incredibly soft grazing his neck. It was James' mouth, he realised, which was kissing under his ear and moving down towards his collarbone even as he stood there, dumbstruck.

Severus froze. Potter was so warm, and it was a chilly night. That was the only reason the kisses felt pleasant, Severus was sure. He closed his eyes. He could smell Potter again. It was a nice smell, fresh. Clean. Wasn't James always making fun of him for being dirty? Wasn't that what everyone laughed about? Awkward, manky, ugly Snape with greasy hair and greying underpants, ha ha? Potter was… about perfect. Why was this happening? How could anyone feel attraction towards Severus Snape, especially the one who had always mocked his ineptitude? It didn't fit. None of it did. This was a game.

"Get off," Severus muttered.

"Mmm, why?" James inquired in a low tone that made Severus shiver.

"I don't like this. I don't like you. Whatever you're trying to do, Potter, I don't like it."

"I think you do," James whispered into his ear.

"I don't - I mean -" Severus' words weren't coming out smoothly. "You're trying to seduce me. I can't believe it."

James smiled in the darkness. "You wouldn't tell anyone."

"Oh, brilliant idea. Let's all waylay Snape and molest him in the bushes because he doesn't have the bollocks to sneak on us," Severus ground out sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant. Look, just… How can I… How can I get you to trust me?"

Severus snorted. "You can't."

"But I want to… I want you to trust me. You don't trust anyone at all, do you?"

"I trust myself."

Neither boy spoke for a few heavy moments. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. A gust of wind blew up dead leaves at their feet. It was James who broke the silence.

"You're cold. You feel like a vampire." His fingers were unfastening Severus' cloak, and then he slipped his arms about the Slytherin's slight middle and held him close. Severus felt a flood of heat.

"Severus?" he said again.

From Snivellus to Snape to Severus, all in the course of an evening. This is completely mad. I should leave. I should…

"Yes?" Severus replied curtly, looking up at James now it was now too dark to make eye contact.

"I want to kiss you."

"What?! No!"

"Why not?"

"I… I don't… That's repulsive. No."

"I won't tell anybody, if you let me."

"I'd gleefully stick my head in a bucket of wartcap powder first."

"You're still here because you want this, Severus."

Hmm. That's not true. Why am I still here?

One of James' hands crept under the back of Severus' shirt and softly caressed his back. Severus' breath hitched.

"See, I knew it," Potter breathed in a hushed tone. His lips brushed against Severus' small jaw line and kissed softly. "Just forget about hating me. I want this. I want… you."

Severus felt trapped even as his blood began to heat. If he wasn't lying to himself, he had never before experienced any physical pleasure, and James Potter made him feel many different feelings at once. He didn't like how everything inside him seemed to jolt at the feel Potter's mouth… or touch. But he was still mystified at James' apparent change of habits.

James' hands were slowly running along the bare flesh of Severus' torso, and he stopped kissing, for which Severus suddenly realised he felt deprived. He could have kicked himself for being so weak. How could he enjoy what was undoubtedly meant to mislead him? Potter had outsmarted him. He did want this, just like Potter said he did. But he didn't have to make his desires known.

"I'm going back to the school," he asserted firmly. "This is ridi -"

But James held Severus' hips firmly in place, and effectively silenced him by letting their mouths meet. This kiss was slow and needful; soft and hot. James languidly ran his tongue along Severus' bottom lip in an effort to deepen the kiss, and Severus made a weak noise in the back of his throat.

"Please," James whispered.

Severus felt his knees threaten to buckle. "I…"

"It's all right."

Severus fought for strength. The smooth warm hands that caressed beneath his shirt were doing little to help this cause. He felt the Potter boy's lips on his for a few moments longer before he slowly, awkwardly, let his guard fall.

I'm going to have to curse his memory to nothingness after this.

James intensified the kiss, easily slipping his tongue into Severus' mouth and sighing with gratification as their saliva mingled hotly, coaxing the Slytherin to return the kiss despite himself. Severus was momentarily distracted from his own self control. In fact, he completely forgot himself, his misgivings, and his reservations. James was taking all of him, and resistance was now past Severus' capacity. He never thought something as trivial as kissing could feel quite like that. He had James Potter, striking and graceful and admired, someone far past his conceivable range, kissing him as if he had never been more desperate for anything in his life. Irrational, but remarkable.

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