TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.
BETA: None, yet. I would greatly appreciate any offers, although I need someone with a sharp eye and excellent grammar and spelling. A strong vocabulary is good, too.
NOTES: I said I'd do it. It just took me awhile to get around to it. This is going to be done in spurts, when I have the time, and I'm not sure where it will take us, exactly.
SUMMARY: Sequel to "The Master Plan." Slash. Now that Harry's relationship with Severus is out in the open, they have more problems than they can shake a…wand at. Voldemort is still after Harry, Lucius has plans of his own, and Lupin is more disapproving than Harry ever expected—and Harry's immaturity doesn't help matters.

Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel

Harry pawed through his pile of clothes, trying to decide what to wear, and what to pack. Every time he came across something he was sure he didn't want to wear, he threw it into his trunk with a seething anger that seeing his belongings being packed away for another trip 'home' didn't assuage one little bit. When he finally had everything put away, and had wriggled into the bright teal dress shirt Seamus had given him, he slammed the lid of his trunk down, muttering furiously under his breath.

He was being sent away. Abandoned. Banished. Rejected. It didn't have to happen this way; he could have stayed here, at Hogwarts, with his…lover? Boyfriend? He nearly snorted with laughter at that, but laughter would have ruined the tone of ire and betrayal he was setting, so he settled for snorting with bitter self-mockery. Yes, that was acceptable.

Ruddy stupid Severus, he fumed in his head as he trotted down the stairs to breakfast. Bloody manipulative Headmaster. They're all just trying to run my life. And WORST of all is that blasted—idiot—WEREWOLF. How could Remus DO this to me? He's so damn stubborn and so damn bossy and so damn logical, and why can't he just see my side for once?

Harry walked towards the great hall to see Severus pacing before the doors, that characteristic line of worry between his eyebrows. He halted suddenly when he spotted Harry. "Mister Potter," he began, standing while other students filed past him, trying to give the man a wide berth.

At this, Harry shot him a venomous look, ducked his head, and stomped past.

"Harry…" the man called softly, sounding on the verge of exasperation.

Harry ignored him completely. He dropped into a seat beside Hermione, who was holding hands with Ron across the table. "Oh, stop with your sticky-sweet devotion, would you?" he grumbled. "You're making me ill."

"Harry," Hermione started in with a lecturing tone.

Ron beat her to the punch. "Listen, just because your sugar-daddy won't let you spend the summer in his lap doesn't mean you have to take it out on the rest of us." Harry gave him his patented green-laser-beam-glare, but Ron merely smirked. "Stop moping about it. It's pathetic, even for you." He ducked the bit of sausage Harry flicked at him, his smile widening. "Aw, is ickle Harry going to miss his shmoopy-woobie this summer? Is he afwaid big, bad Snape is going to find someone to else to ease the pangs of loneliness in his heart? That he'll find some strapping foreign stud this summer and spend hours on end getting it on without even thinking about his poor ickle Harry?"

Just as Harry was about to lunge over the table and strangle Ron, a cold voice spoke up.

"Oh, undoubtedly, Mister Weasley. Because I haven't anything better to do than get horizontal with a complete stranger, and because it's in my nature to do so, is it not? And I encounter amorous advances from foreigners wherever I go, as well. Really, Weasley, don't you think he's behaving obnoxiously enough without baiting?" Snape's annoyed gaze caused Ron to shift and shrug uncomfortably. "Mister Potter, the Headmaster wishes to speak with you when you finish with your meal."

Harry scowled at his plate, then pushed it away. "I'm not hungry, so I might as well do it now," he muttered, getting up and following Snape reluctantly. "And you can be rational at me all you want, but it's not going to make any difference," he grumbled at the Potions Master's back as they headed up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office.

"When did it ever?" Snape retorted, throwing Harry a vaguely amused look over his shoulder. "I've long since given up trying to get you to see sense. I think I'd do far better if I were allowed to simply bend you over and give you fifty lashes, but as we can't have that…"

Harry groaned, a sound of resentment mixed with sexual frustration. "You did it that one time," he couldn't resist pointing out. "And you're right; that might be just the thing to make me shape up."

Snape whirled, robes fluttering. His face was extremely stern as he faced the boy. "I thought we'd agreed never to approach that subject again, upon pain of death," he growled.

"I don't remember the 'pain of death' bit, but everything else seems right," Harry rejoined, casually leaning against the wall.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and the Headmaster peered down at them. "Ah, Harry! And Severus; I thought I heard the two of you bickering. It's very distinctive, you know."

"Thank you, Headmaster. We do work at it," Severus returned, moving fluidly up the steps.

Harry made a face at his back, stomping up behind the man. "I just want you both to know," he announced when they entered the room, "That I'm not all right with this. I know you think it's for the best, and that I'll be safer, and what you say goes, and what I want doesn't even matter, but I think it stinks."

Severus gave Harry that look he reserved for special occasions; the one that reprimanded him for immature behaviour without saying a word, the one that threatened to withhold physical pleasure unless Harry shaped up.

Harry gave Severus his own special glare; the one that sulked in fine adolescent fashion, and told the man Bugger you, you sadistic wanker. I'm not getting laid anyway. I'll throw as many fits as I damn well please.

The Headmaster cleared his throat, interrupting their silent duel of malicious grimacing. "I understand your feelings, Harry, but I'm afraid this must be done. I cannot guarantee that Hogwarts will be safe this summer; the members of the Order will be scattered, fulfilling various duties, and even I will not be here very often. With Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy on the loose, it is imperative that you are as secure as possible."

Harry bit his lip. "But what about him?" he finally burst out, gesturing wildly to Severus. "If everyone is gone, how will he be safe? You expect me to sit back and cool my heels like a good boy while God knows what is happening to him?"

At this, Dumbledore gave Harry a kind smile. "Severus is a fully-trained wizard, with many tricks up his sleeve, and—"

"Yeah, and that's what he told me right before he got kidnapped. He may be smart, but he's not invincible."

"I will be cautious, I promise you," Severus informed Harry, his voice dry. "I will not stay in any one place for long this summer, and I have my own duties to fulfil."

Harry turned to him suspiciously. "What duties? Now that they've found you're a spy, what are you going to do? Make potions for Pomfrey? Do research?" He was intensely curious, as Severus had not deigned to answer any of his myriad questions before, no matter how often Harry brought it up.

Severus' eyes slid away, avoiding him. "A little of everything," he said evasively.

"Not good enough," Harry told him stubbornly. "I care about you, damn it, and I don't want to see you piss your life away by getting involved with dangerous stuff again."

Snape raised his eyebrows incredulously. "I rather think you've stolen my line, you incorrigible wretch," he said. "You're the one constantly going and defying death on a regular basis. I only get involved when I have to come after you."

"That's not how it happened last time," Harry shot back.

"Gentlemen, if we may return to the subject at hand," Dumbledore interrupted. "Harry, you will be returning to the Dursleys'. I know you are unhappy with the situation, and I apologize. You will be protected, though, and that is what's most important. For now, Severus is safe as well, and I will do all in my power to keep him that way. If the circumstances change, the plan will be adapted accordingly."

Harry's jaw was set. "Fine," he spat. "Can I go and finish getting ready now? I have friends to say goodbye to." He turned his back on them both, fuming, shoulders hunched.

"Why don't I give the two of you a minute to say your own farewells?" Dumbledore asked, slipping out.

"Don't bother," Harry began, but the man was already gone.

"Harry," Severus said with a large sigh. "Stop being so perversely difficult. You know that I…have some…affection for youor whatever passes for affection in my shrivelled, blackened little heart, but I cannot allow you to remain at Hogwarts. For one thing, I haven't the power—or the authority. For another, it would jeopardise you, and I have sworn not to do that."

"So you—you exile me back to the Dursleys' for the whole summer? You know, a Dementor almost got Dudley and me a couple of years ago, just down the street from the house. It's not really all that safe."

"It's safer than you imagine. And really, Harry, I do have some appreciation of how little you like your family, but their company is still better than being cut into pieces and impaled on spikes round Voldemort's throne, is it not?"

"That's what you think," Harry muttered, but there wasn't any real heat in it.

Severus came to stand behind the boy, wrapping his arms around him rather hesitantly. "I shall write, if I am able," he said solemnly, resting his chin on the scruffy head of hair.

After a tense moment or two, Harry relaxed back against the man. "You can't give a bit, can you?" the student asked bitterly, and Snape sighed again. "And they call me stubborn!"

"It's not my decision," Snape said gruffly. "It's out of my hands." He pressed a quick kiss to Harry's head, and the youth turned and pulled away, looking up at him with soulful eyes.

"Could I at least get a goodbye shag?" he asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," Snape grated, annoyed. "Do you ever think about anything besides sex?"

"Well, yeah; death, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ron and Hermione, and fashion," Harry responded. "Usually in that order. Oh, and there's you, too. But that either goes in with sex or death, I'm not sure which."

"Very amusing."

Harry's eyebrows drew together, and Severus could see the little black thundercloud forming over the youth's head once more. "Why did we agree to this?" Harry suddenly burst out. "No sex? No sex? What the hell business is it of Remus' whether or not we have sex?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Potter, we have had this discussion countless times, and—"

"And you've yet to answer me to my satisfaction! Why, damn it? Don't you want it? Don't you want me?" He leaned into Severus, desperation oozing from every pore.

"Stop doing that, you wilful young whelp. We are doing this because Lupin demanded it. Do you need reminding? You agreed to it as well, you know."

Harry looked even more cross at this. "Only because he said he'd have you fired if I didn't. And Dumbledore—and Dumbledore agreed!" he ranted, and went on to rave for a good ten minutes about the unfairness of the man suddenly taking Lupin's side after all those months of supporting Harry's and Severus' burgeoning relationship.

Severus watched the boy pace, hands clasped behind his back or making the occasional stabbing gesture for emphasis. "The Headmaster knew that I would not instigate a sexual relationship with you before you had graduated. That is the only reason he allowed us to see one another. And as for Lupin—"

"Lupin can bloody well go jump in the lake and make out with the squid. Why the hell are you, of all people, agreeing with Remus?" Harry whirled to face Severus, his face full of indignation.

"It is not a matter of agreeing with him; it is a matter of honour. I told him that I would not do this thing. I am a man of my word. Have we not had this discussion often enough over the course of the last month? I am heartily sick of hearing about it. I will not lay hands on you at this time. End of conversation."

Harry's lips thinned. "I really hate it when you do that." Severus didn't answer so he continued. "Shut me down. Treat me like I'm a child that you can order around. I really hate that, Severus."

"Harry?" Dumbledore stepped back into the room. "Everyone is getting ready to leave."

Harry stared at Snape for a long moment, as if searching for something. "All right," he finally said quietly. The Headmaster turned to leave, and Harry followed, stepping around Severus.

Snape took a hold of Harry's sleeve as he passed, and the youth jerked it away and kept moving. Severus followed, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and forcibly turning him to face him. "Harry. I'm sorry. I will worry about you, as well, you know." Harry was silent, face averted, his expression closed. "I'll send you an owl as soon as I'm able." The man leaned forward, just managing to brush his lips to the side of Harry's face before the young man turned his head, shoving Severus away and marching angrily towards the stairs.

Heaving a great, long-suffering sigh, Snape slowly followed the boy down the steps. When he reached the ground floor, he ran into Lupin, who was waiting to accompany Harry and his friends on the train, and keep an eye out during their journey.

"How are you today, Severus?" the werewolf inquired with forced politeness. He had never managed to accept the fact that the Potions Master had developed an interest in his ward. They succeeded in treating each other civilly, but just barely. It was an uneasy peace, at best.

"I'd be far better if that petulant brat stopped throwing fits every time I turned around," Severus admitted tiredly. "However, I can't see what to do about it."

"The answer to that particular problem is simple," Remus told him in a cool voice.

"Yes?" Snape responded warily.

"Find someone your own age," the werewolf advised him. He turned to leave.

Snape sighed again. No shoulder to lean on, there. He stared at the front doors, where the students were streaming out into the summer. Soon the castle would be almost deserted. No shoulder to lean on, anywhere.

Harry sulked on the train. He planned to sulk in the car on the way home. And once he got there, he fully intended to sulk the whole summer through, without one moment of unalleviated teenaged angst. He was a moping machine. No one could make him feel better. He would not be cheered. This, he vowed.

Of course, this irked Ron and Hermione, who told him in no uncertain terms that he was acting like a twelve-year-old girl, and that he ought to stop his whining and woe-is-me-ing, but he couldn't be buggered to care. Lupin also spent part of the ride with him, explaining gently why Harry was, in fact, a selfish little brat. He didn't come right out and say that, of course; he just tried to demonstrate that Harry had people that cared about him, and pointed out that they all had a lot to be grateful for, but Harry remained unmoved. In his eyes, this was all partially Remus' fault.

He couldn't help feeling that Severus would never have sent them away if they'd been sleeping together. That was part of an adult relationship, wasn't it? And so long as it wasn't happening, Severus wouldn't be able to take Harry completely seriously. He might even get tired of waiting and find someone else. A small part of Harry—the last vestiges of the truly immature monster he'd been a couple of years ago—wanted to guffaw at that, but mostly he knew better. After all, he found Severus attractive, so what was stopping others from feeling the same way?

Snape was sexy; that's all there was to it. There were so many little things he did that got Harry hot that it was nearly impossible to list them all; the long stride, the black glare of destruction, the smirk, the thing with the eyebrow…not to mention the verbose speech and voice that caused Harry to tremble absolutely everywhere. He was damned sexy, and Harry was just lucky no one else had cottoned onto that yet.

But now someone very well might.

Now Harry and Severus would be apart for the whole summer, and Severus would be travelling extensively, with every opportunity to meet new people. Severus wouldn't even be in the country for some of the time; he'd be gliding through throngs of exotic young men who spoke provocative foreign languages and probably didn't wear pants under their robes. How on earth could Harry Potter, three feet tall, (well, currently feeling three feet tall) with messy hair and dorky glasses, possibly compete?

And so Remus lectured, and Ron and Hermione glared and tutted, and Harry turned his head to the window, as the countryside rolled past unseen, and worried.