Second Place - Fluff

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"Hello! What have we here?" Harry Potter thrust the hoe into the freshly turned earth and peered down at the large gray rock. A narrow black head edged out from under it at the sound of his words in Parseltongue.

"You speak?" came the clearly surprised sibilant hiss of the black snake as it slid back onto the flat rock. Harry had startled it just moments earlier, and it had ducked under the rock with barely a flick of its tail.

"Uh, yeah," Harry replied, leaning on the sturdy hoe as the full ebony length coiled back onto the rock. Dark round eyes looked at him, and Harry crouched down to nearly ground level. His knees were scuffed and dirty, poking out of old cut-off shorts. He put out one work-roughened finger and rubbed it along the snake's head. "You're very pretty," he said in the soft language of serpents. The elegantly pointed head swayed rapturously at the touch. "What's your name?"

The head cocked, one black beady eye fixing on him. "Name?" it asked.

"What do you call yourself?" Harry clarified, thinking maybe he'd got the word wrong. Parseltongue relied a lot on sibilants which could overlap and sound similar.

"The Snake," came the amused reply, and Harry smiled too.

"I'm Harry," he said, giving the head one last rub before standing back up for a stretch. It was hot under the bright summer sun. He accio'd his dipper from the water bucket he kept nearby and took a long swig at the cold water.

"Hello Harry," he heard from the rock. "You're very pretty too."

Harry laughed again and took up his hoe, weeding beside the large gray rock. "Thanks," he said, careful to avoid the side of the stone where the snake had bolted earlier. It probably hid a hole to its nest. "There," he said, leaning on the hoe and surveying his handiwork. "That should give you some sun on this side and protect the other side." He didn't mention the probable nest. Snakes were very protective of their nesting sites.

The snake slithered off the rock and went around the stone once, head swaying in its circuit. Harry watched it admiringly. It was about four feet long, big for a garden-variety snake, but beautiful and graceful. "Very nice," was the eventual verdict as the snake curled back up on the rock, head resting on its coils away from Harry, back to sunning itself.

Harry shrugged and went back to work. He had more earth to turn if he wanted to get the rows planted he'd planned for today. When he took another water break he sat down beside his bucket. The snake lay gleaming in the slanting sun. After a long drink, he dumped the rest of the dipper over his head and shook it off, heedless of his clothes, a sweaty sleeveless T-shirt and shorts.

"Hey!" came the grumpy sibilant voice. Harry looked over. One beady eye was focused on him, a glistening droplet adorning the sleek black head.

"Sorry!" he apologized hastily. "It's hot out."

"You should rest during the heat," the snake advised. "Curl up and sleep in the sun." Coils adjusted, and the tail flipped with movement.

"We can't all bake our days away," Harry said in mock regret. He liked working in the garden, liked the slight bronzing his body had gotten from nearly two weeks turning Hogwart's earth.

"Humans," the snake said sleepily, and the head tucked into its coils again.

The black shape had hardly moved when Harry passed by a couple of hours later, though the sun was no longer hitting the rock directly. He took another long drink from the bucket. The water was still cool, having been enchanted just that morning. Harry picked up the tin box beneath the water stool and sat under a nearby shady tree to eat his second sandwich.

While he opened the tin the black head rose from the rock, pivoting in his direction, then the snake uncoiled gracefully and slid off the rock toward Harry. He rested his back against the gnarled trunk of the tree as the long black body of the snake undulated through the rows of freshly turned earth and clumps of weeds. When it got into the shade the snake's head rose again, seeking him out. The head darted along the length of his clunky brown work boot, a delicate tongue darting along the underside.

"There is fresh manure in the soil," it said, inching toward him. "You should be cautious before you eat."

Harry eyed the creature in surprise. "Thanks," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket. "Sano," he said quickly as the dirt evaporated from his hands. The elegant black head nodded approvingly, then began to turn away. "Uh," Harry said quickly. "Do you want a bit of this?" The snake turned back, angling its head so that one jet-black eye met Harry's, then down to the proffered bit of sandwich.

"It's, uh.." He checked, lifting the thick slab of bread. "Chicken." As much as he liked his job and the solitude it offered, sometimes he missed his recently completed student days, and the clatter of constant company.

"Sounds delicious," came the hissed reply, and the sinuous body edged up beside him. Harry broke off a piece of the meat and laid it on the grass. They ate in companionable silence for a while, though when offered seconds the snake declined politely, resting its head again on a coil, drooping sleepily. Harry scritched its head, then smiled at the contented hissing that slipped from the tiny mouth below him. His long legs, browned a bit from working outdoors, lay stretched out on the grass as the small head lay just next to his thigh.

When he finished the sandwich he folded up the wax paper and put it back in the tin. He was loathe to move and disturb the oddly comforting snake. He studied it, enjoying the small patterns within the ebon scales, enjoyed too the small flickers of the tail which moved even in sleep. He should get up, he thought sleepily, he should finish planting that row of cabbages. Instead he listened to the drone of insects in the trees, to the far away noises inside the Forbidden Forest. Slowly his eyes drifted shut.

Harry awoke to a warm pressure on his thigh. His startled movement unsteadied the tiny head now resting atop his outstretched thigh. "Hey," he said, voice hoarse from sleep. "Make yourself at home.

"Harry is very warm," the snake said sleepily, stretching with a smooth undulating motion Harry found himself copying in his own stretch. His visitor rode the movement of his leg as Harry locked his hands over his head, sliding them up the tree trunk.

"I should get back to work," he said, slipping easily into Parseltongue even with his brain a bit muzzy from the impromptu nap. He thumped his leg suggestively but the black eyes only looked unblinkingly at his face.

"Can't you use wizard's magic?" it asked, tiny forked tongue twitching.

"Well, yeah, for some of it. But there's a lot that has to be done by hand." He grinned lopsidedly. "That's why they hired me for the summer." He knew that in Parseltongue 'summer' would come out as 'awake time'.

"And after the summer?" the snake asked, uncoiling slowly from Harry's leg but still watching him.

Harry's grin faded a bit. "Going to play Quidditch I hope, for a season at least." He shrugged. "Going to see a bit of the world."

The black head rose, angling to get a better look at Harry's face. "Quidditch is the broomstick sport?" Harry nodded. "Why just a season?"

Harry thought about it. "To see if I like it, I guess," he replied truthfully. "I mean, I don't think that's what I want to do with my life, but it will give me some time to think about it."

"Is there nothing you would like to do for more than a season?"

The young man frowned at the pointed black head. Then his glance flickered involuntarily to the distant castle of Hogwarts. "I thought there was," he replied. "But it didn't work out." He pulled his legs along the grass, then in one fluid motion stood up. The snake slithered away without a backward glance.

He didn't see the snake when he came to collect his things just before sunset. He didn't usually work after the sun went down, but he still felt a bit guilty about his afternoon nap. Unspelling the water, he poured the rest of it out onto the freshly tilled earth, then put his lunch tin in the bucket and set both drifting behind him while he shouldered the hoe. He set off for Hagrid's hut, on loan for the summer while the groundskeeper had a much- needed vacation. Harry, who'd been at loose ends for the summer, had volunteered to fill in until the Quidditch tryouts started in the fall.

It wasn't until he sat down the next day to eat his first sandwich that he saw the snake again. He saw the pointed head pop out from under the rock, flicking its tongue into the air experimentally, smelling the air around it. Then it looped around the rock and headed in his direction. Stopping beside him it bobbed its sleek head in greeting.

"May I have some water?" it asked, surprising Harry.

"Sure," he said, reaching for his wand to summon the dipper.

"I can get it," the snake said, proving it by wrapping around the stool until its head was able to reach the bucket. It didn't take too much. When it was done it came back to the shady spot beside Harry. "Thank you."

"Help yourself anytime," Harry said. "There's plenty." The snake nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you want a bit of this?" he asked, aware of the head tilting to study him. "Roast beef today."

There was a slight hesitation before it replied. "No thank you."

"I'm done, honestly," Harry said quickly. "And I have a second one for tea time."

"You should eat the whole thing, young one," the snake said, though 'young one' could be either 'son' or 'non breeding male'. "You are too thin."

Harry smiled. "You must be nesting. You sound like a mother."

Though fundamentally incapable of changes in expression, the ebony face gave the impression of being amused. "I've no mate to lay eggs," it said, confirming Harry's belief that it was a male snake.

"There wasn't really a polite way to ask," Harry admitted. There was a way to sex snakes, but he had never really studied the species, any more than he'd studied their language.

"Humans worry more about being polite than snakes do," the snake replied. "Most humans," he added.

"Do you know many humans?" Harry asked, setting the small corner of roast beef beside his knee on a clear patch of grass. Maybe the snake had been here a few years and knew Hagrid.

The meat offering was scooped up. "A few," the snake admitted. "None who speak my tongue."

Harry shrugged. "There aren't many like me," he said ruefully.

A slow nod of the blunt head. "So I am beginning to understand." Before Harry could ask what he meant the snake turned with a flip of the agile tail and slithered away into the grass. Inexplicably Harry was reminded of Professor Snape whirling in his black robes and gliding out of sight. He smiled briefly at the comparison, wondering who would be more insulted, Snape or the snake.

He saw the snake nearly every day after that, usually on the flat gray rock. Sometimes he would come over during one of Harry's breaks, and could usually be persuaded to accept a morsel of meat from Harry's meals. It was a novelty Harry supposed they both enjoyed, for the snake seemed to like talking. And Harry, despite his enjoyment of the solitude the summer job offered, enjoyed it too.

That Saturday he was packing up the tin and bucket when he told the snake he wouldn't be working in the garden the next day. Though he was by no means respecting the Muggle Sabbath, Sundays at school had usually been a bit less boisterous, and he'd kept to the tradition during his first summer on his own.

"I have some repairs to make on the house," he explained to the intently listening creature. "Maybe you'd like to come by?" That by-now familiar tilt of the head when the snake studied him made him question his own invitation. "That's probably stupid, isn't it? Sorry."

"Snakes are usually solitary creatures," the snake agreed in a soft hiss, "but I thought humans were social animals. Surely you have friends from school?"

"Well, I do," Harry admitted, feeling a bit foolish explaining his lack of social life to a lower life form. "I just thought if you were going to spend your days sunning yourself on that rock, you might like a change of scenery."

"All right," said the snake.

It was past noon on Sunday when Harry began to feel foolish. There was no sign of his reptile friend. He stood balanced on Hagrid's rickety wooden ladder, sweat dripping into his eyes and fogging up his glasses. He was in his usual cut-off shorts and sturdy work boots, but since it was hot up here he'd thrown his shirt down onto the porch.

What had he been thinking? Asking a snake, worse, a snake who didn't even have a name, to visit? Was he that lonely? True, he could visit Ron and Hermione any time, and he knew he was welcome at The Burrow or even the castle whenever he wanted. It was just perverse human nature to long for solitude when living in a dorm full of students, and to long equally as hard for that same dorm when one had all the solitude one could endure.

But as stupid as he felt for admitting it, even to himself, he enjoyed the snake's company, enjoyed talking to a creature to whom he was not famous, either for living or for ridding the world of Voldemort. He pounded in another shingle, feeling sweat pooling under his arms, gathering between his shoulder blades when he felt something glide across his ankle.

"Fuck!" he said, very loudly, as the sensation twined up his leg, around his sweaty back, and under one arm, as Harry wobbled on the ladder, grabbing the roof for purchase.

"Hello, Harry," came the sibilant greeting, as the long sleek body slid onto the pitched roof.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Harry gulped, eyeing the now languid snake angrily.

"Don't be silly. I shouted but you couldn't hear me." The small tongue darted out as he spoke, fangs poking out. "I don't have those great windbags for lungs that you do." The tongue darted out and flickered over Harry's breastbone.

"Stop that!" Harry said, laughing despite his evaporating anger. The tiny tongue slid down Harry's chest further. "Hey, that tickles!" He looped his fingers around the back of the snake's head and pulled it away.

The animal accepted the move with equanimity, arching to peer over Harry's bare shoulder. "You're right. The view is much better up here. I can see the castle." Harry followed the beady gaze to Hogwarts in the distance. He turned back and picked up the screwdriver he was using to pry up loose shingles. While the snake admired the landscape, Harry tested more shingles.

"Do you ever miss it?" came a voice closer to his ear. The snake had settled back near his elbow. "Living in the castle?"

Harry frowned but kept on working. "Sometimes. I mean, it was the first real home I ever had." He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled a stubborn shingle loose with furious effort. "But all my friends are gone, making their own lives. I should too."

"You don't sound too sure," came the hissed words.

Harry concentrated on re-securing the loose shingle, taking long nails out of one shorts pocket and pounding them in with quick efficient strokes. "Everyone has to grow up."

"Are your friends nesting?" the snake asked, matter-of-factly, sliding over to avoid Harry's probing screwdriver.

"Uh, not in the way you mean," he said, immediately picturing Hermione sitting on a clutch of eggs. "My two best friends are pretty serious about each other. They'll probably get married. That's what humans do before they nest," he explained.

"Sounds complicated," the snake said, giving the impression of shrugging. How could it do that without shoulders? "Snakes mate and then they nest. It's just reproduction."

Harry smiled at the idea. "You're right. Humans do complicate things. How about you? Where's Mrs. Snake?"

The snake lifted its gleaming head until its tiny eyes were nearly level with Harry's. "Reproduction is for the young. My days of mating are gone."

Harry couldn't resist a slight tease. "Maybe you haven't met the right snake yet." He tested the shingle beneath the looped bundle of coils. With a jolt the snake slid up his arm and around his shoulder.

"Hey!"

"It's easier this way and I don't have to shout."

"You were shouting?" The snake's voice had sounded soft and whispery. He worked steadily, feeling the surprisingly comforting weight around his neck and across his shoulders.

"So, Harry," the snake said, its mouth very close to his ear. The tongue tickled slightly. "You are young for your species, are you not?"

"I guess so," he said, resisting the urge to scratch his ear.

"Where is your Mrs. Snake?"

He knew the snake didn't mean anything by it but something like anger lashed through the pit of his stomach.

"It's different with humans," he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "Complicated." He should have known it wouldn't assuage the snake's curiosity.

"Sometimes humans complicate things themselves. Nature makes things very simple."

"Not everything," Harry said, then concentrated on the edge of a loose shingle. The snake waited until he'd pounded the last nail before speaking again.

"That's your youth speaking."

Harry looked over his shoulder at the sleek black head. "Some things don't change when you get older."

The ladder had walked them all the way around the small hut so with the snake still hanging on his shoulders Harry climbed down, eyeing his handiwork from the ground. Hagrid wouldn't have to drag out the buckets the next time it rained. Stopping to scoop up his discarded shirt Harry wiped his damp face and sweaty armpits while the snake rode the action with a hissing protest.

"Sorry," he said.

"I like the way humans smell," came the voice in a tone Harry recognized as sleepy. Honestly, didn't snakes do anything but sleep?

"I'm for lunch," Harry decided. "Care to join me?"

The tail at his elbow twitched appreciatively.

"It's just eggs and toast, but I've got a stew on for dinner," he explained, taking out his wand and tapping the ladder, which folded itself up and began walking toward the storage shed.

"Eggs?" came the now wide-awake hiss, red tongue darting out as though already tasting them.

Once they were inside the snake slid down his back, giving Harry a shiver. While he cleaned up and got the lunch things out, the snake explored the tiny hut. When the eggs, snug in Hagrid's wire basket, came out the snake abandoned its explorations and slid up onto the counter, beside the old fashioned iron cook stove. It had taken Harry a while to get used to cooking on the ancient stove but he'd managed a few easy things. He knew he was welcome at the castle for meals, but he'd never taken advantage of it.

The tiny red forked tongue flickered several times toward the stew pot. "Smells good." The head waved back and forth, and Harry smiled and took off the lid. Fragrant aromas filled the tiny hut as the forked tongue flicked rapturously. Grabbing a wooden spoon, Harry spooned a bit out and left it on a rag, then licked the spoon. For a moment man and snake sampled. Then Harry frowned.

"Hand me the salt," he said without thinking. "Uh, sorry," he amended quickly, but the agile tail had already wrapped around the heavy brown shaker and glided with it toward the stove.

"Don't worry about it," the snake said pragmatically as Harry salted the stew and replaced the lid. After starting the toast he cracked the eggs into the iron skillet. He put the shells down, to the immediate interest of his visitor. Harry watched the pointed head wave back and forth over the shells.

"Go ahead," he said, waving the spatula in the reptile's direction.

"Thanks," came the soft hiss, tongue already licking blissfully at the cracked shells. Concentrating on getting the toast evenly heated, Harry missed the first tap on the counter. Then he looked over and started laughing.

"You look ridiculous!" he said, pulling half an egg shell, still sticky with egg white off the blunt serpent head. Even as he pulled the shell off the tiny tongue was darting over the gummy fluid. The tongue flickered ineffectually in air before the snake eyed his host with resignation.

Harry took his lunch to the sturdy wooden table. His guest clambered up his leg and onto the table, so he fed it a bit of cooked egg which it ate delicately, hissing softly in satisfaction.

"Better raw," it sighed, but Harry noticed not a speck remained. While he finished his meal the snake curled up and tucked its head on top of its coils.

"Can I ask you something?" the snake said when he was drinking the last of his juice.

Harry sat back in the wooden chair. He'd spelled one around the table to fit his considerably smaller frame. "Sure."

"Why does talking about reproduction make you unhappy?" Harry started and stared hard at the stack of black coils. Without waiting for him to answer the reptile went on, "Is it because your friends are planning to mate?"

"No!" Harry said quickly, then took a deep breath before looking up again. "I'm happy for them. I always have been."

"But not happy about your own situation," the snake said shrewdly.

"It's..." he began.

"Complicated. I know; you said." Something about the unblinking stare reminded him of being back in school and not having done his homework. "You are a pretty young man," the snake went on. "You should have a clutch of eggs by now."

Parseltongue, Harry reflected, was an imprecise language when dealing with fundamentally human concepts. He shoved away from the table and poured himself some more cold pumpkin juice. It was lots cooler inside the stone hut than outside, but it was still warm inside.

"It just doesn't work that way for humans," Harry said, looking back at the table. The snake, despite its questions, looked sleepy and still. "Do snakes...?" He thought about how to phrase his question carefully. "Are there any snakes who don't mate with other snakes?"

The black triangle tilted thoughtfully. "Of course. The slow ones usually get eaten."

Harry blinked, then laughed again. "That's me, the slow one." He set the cup down on the counter. "I've got to get some work done. You're welcome to stay for dinner." He spent the rest of the afternoon rearranging Hagrid's chaotic storage shed. He thought about the weird questions the snake had asked, and smiled at his inner debate about how to explain being gay to a reptile. As always, working gave him a sense of peace. It was one of the benefits of the job he'd taken on, though it meant being a bit too close to the occupants of the castle for his absolute peace of mind.

He'd discovered, as young men do, his preferences fairly early. Then he'd discovered that just knowing he preferred men wasn't the answer to the dissatisfaction that clawed at his insides. It had been the knowledge that he wanted one man in particular, one who had never wanted him in any way, that haunted him.

When he got back inside the tiny cabin the snake was asleep in the middle of the cot against the wall. It looked up sleepily, adjusted its coils and went back to sleep. It wasn't quite like having a dog, Harry reflected ruefully, as he shucked out of his dirty shorts and tank top so as to take a quick sponge bath before dinner, but it was nice to have a living creature in the house.

By the time he got the stew ladled out the snake had vacated the cot and once again climbed up onto the table via Harry's leg. He gave it a piece of chicken and after dinner settled down on the small settee with a book. The snake slithered up beside him.

"Can you read in snake language?"

"I think so," Harry replied, though he had to concentrate to do so. He read a while, the snake resting on its coils beside him while he absently rubbed the top of its head with his thumb. So it seemed quite natural when he got sleepy to invite the snake to stay. Without speaking it nodded its head and made for the stone hearth.

"Good night, Harry," he heard from the fireplace.

"Good night, Snake."

Perhaps it was an owl hooting outside or some other creature stirring in the Forbidden Forest that woke him. Or maybe it was the hard-on between his thighs. Harry groaned softly. What had he been dreaming about to get him in this condition? Slowly his hand reached under the thin sheet covering him. Then he remembered his visitor. His hard on really wanted him to think of the snake as just another creature in the house - just because he could talk to it, didn't mean it was like having a person nearby, did it? Then he heard the soft slithering sound and reached for his glasses beside the bed.

"Some dream," came the amused comment from below the bed. Then Harry felt a distinctive weight at the foot of the bed as the snake glided up his leg. He was suddenly absurdly grateful for the sheet, thin as it was.

"Sorry to wake you," he said apologetically, trying to ignore the sensuous gliding motions up his leg.

"You were moaning," the snake said. The small head nudged the sheet around his hips. "Must not have been bad though."

Before he knew quite what was going on the thick snake body was edging under the sheet. "What are you doing?" he said, wanting to sit up, not wanting to roll onto the snake in his haste. The sensation of sinewy flesh on his own wasn't helping his erection.

The snake didn't answer his question, instead gliding up onto his chest beneath the coverlet. The agile tail dropped into the valley between his legs. "Aren't you going to take care of that?" it asked, tail ghosting across the hard flesh.

"Er - " Harry began, horrified and aroused at the same time. "Not to be rude or anything.." he tried again.

The ropy tail lifted, tenting the sheet further, and making it look for one insane moment that Harry was the best endowed young man ever.

"I forget how modest humans are about these things," the snake said as the tented sheet slid off, leaving Harry in simple boxer shorts, his usual sleeping attire. Since moving out of the boy's dorm he'd given up pajamas, at least in the summer.

As weird as this was, Harry was still hard.

"Would it help if I showed you what snakes do when this happens?"

Harry blinked and, now that he could see the snake, pulled himself higher against the headboard. "Snakes get horny?" he asked, intrigued, trying to think of this as a scientific inquiry. A scientific inquiry with erections.

Round eyes settled on him, glittering in the dim light. "Oh yes," it said, shifting so that the lower third of the long sinewy body was flush against Harry's thigh. Slowly it began to undulate against him, tail flicking with every movement. The pointed head bobbed rhythmically, tongue lolling, tasting the air.

Then the head dipped, nudging the boxer-covered arousal and Harry, no longer embarrassed, reached in and pulled it out. God, it felt good. And honestly, though he didn't want to examine it too closely, the snake felt like another cock rubbing against him. His eyes closed while he stroked, then shot open as he felt a tickle on the velvety head. A tiny red tongue was licking the clear pre-come leaking from his slit.

Harry groaned but didn't stop stroking himself. Something slid between his legs, and Harry had to decide whether to open his eyes again or not. Curiosity won out and he saw that the tip of the reptile's tail had circled his balls and below, stroking him. When the hard tip nudged his tight hole Harry groaned and came explosively over his belly.

For a moment all was silent save for the distant noises of the night woods, and the slight laboring of Harry's lungs. Then the jet head dipped onto Harry's stomach, tongue lapping the splashes of semen that covered it. Harry watched almost breathlessly until the last drop vanished.

"Mmmm," it said at last, coiling its body onto the recently washed plane of Harry's abdomen. He watched the head settle, realizing it was going back to sleep.

"Ah, thanks," he whispered, not sure what else to say.

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Snake."

When Harry awoke the next morning he was alone. So much for awkward mornings after he thought, not sure how he felt about the whole incident. When he set up his water bucket in its usual spot there was no black body on the flat gray rock. He thought about calling under the rock to the nest below but wasn't sure what to say.

"Thanks for helping me jerk off" didn't sound quite polite. Neither did "I don't think we should see each other anymore since I got turned on by a snake." So he just shrugged and got to work. He'd brought along his broomstick today, planning on pruning some of the trees in the orchard. He'd been hard at it for several hours, when he heard a voice. A human voice.

"Potter?"

Harry nearly fell out of the tree. It was Professor Snape. He poked his head out of the heavy foliage and looked down. The pale face, framed by heavy black hair was just below the lowest branches, peering up, scowling.

"Just a minute," he hissed, then realized he hadn't spoken in human speech for over a week and had to think a moment to switch gears. He repeated the statement; the professor heard this time, and stepped back.

Harry swung down onto the lowest branch then dropped to his feet. Snape eyed him silently, and Harry knew he probably looked a mess. It was dirty work, and hot, too. He felt sweat on both sides of his sleeveless T-shirt. Snape, though not in robes in the heat of the summer afternoon, looked as impeccable as ever. Black pants and a short sleeved black shirt adorned the lean frame, and Harry swallowed hard and tried not to stare.

"Er, hello," he said, uncomfortably.

"I've brought the cinquefoil seeds," Snape said without preamble, pulling a small cloth bag from his pocket.

"Okay," Harry said, not quite sure of the significance of the seeds.

"They need to be planted by the new moon," the professor continued, then tilted his head. Harry tried to look as though he understood. "That's tomorrow night."

"Okay," Harry repeated, and took the cloth bag awkwardly.

"Are you quite all right, Potter? You sound even less coherent than usual," Snape said.

"Sorry. Don't talk too much out here." He looked down at the bag in his hand. "Am I supposed to plant these?" He hefted the palm sized bag, then looked up in time to get the brunt of the withering glance leveled in his direction.

"You might want to try getting out more, Mr. Potter. Isolation seems to have dulled your wits as well as your tongue. Perhaps you should get a pet for company if you can't be bothered to come to the castle." Harry tried to hide his reaction as the older man went on. "Yes, you plant them. Tomorrow by the new moon. Hagrid did it every year so it can't be too difficult." Snape scowled, then pulled out his wand. "You needn't be naked to do it. Now stand back, I'm apparating." Harry sat down hard on the patchy grass beneath the leafy pear tree. "Bloody brilliant," he said dejectedly. What was it about the man that froze his brain cells?

"Great ugly brute," came a soft hiss beside him, and Harry turned to see the snake gliding up beside him.

"No, he isn't!" Harry said defensively. He ran a hand through his hair, more in agitation than in any hope of taming it. "I'm so tired of..." he began as the snake raised up to look at him. "Look, he may not look like a Muggle fashion model, but his looks aren't what matters about him. He's, well not nice, but he's always looked after me, even saved my life. I won't put up with you insulting him."

"He wasn't very nice to you," the sibilant voice pointed out.

"He's at least honest about the way he feels about me," Harry said, pulling a tuft of grass from the sparse earth. "And I - he - " He faltered, looking to the spot from where the wizard had vanished. "It's complicated."

"You fancy him," the snake said, one side of the black head fixed on Harry. "You want to nest with him."

"Shut up, Snake," Harry said glumly, as the long black coil settled beside him. The triangular head nudged under his hand and Harry absently stroked it, eliciting a soft hiss of contentment. "Sorry I snapped at you," he said finally. "I guess I'm feeling a little weird about last night."

The sinewy body threaded through his fingers. "Why?" The long body undulated once. "It was just the relief of sexual urges."

Harry sighed. "Because I like to think that I'm not lonely or desperate enough to have sex with an animal." He heard something like a sigh from the tiny fanged mouth. The head tucked itself back under Harry's fingers, hinting that it wanted to be stroked again.

"We didn't copulate," it pointed out as Harry's thumb stroked the cool scales. "I don't see how we can really, given our sizes."

Harry's eyes bulged. "You're a very weird snake."

Soft sibilant laughter came from his lap. "That's rich coming from you." Abruptly Harry shoved the snake off his lap and got back to work.

He didn't see the infuriating reptile at all, but his irritated thoughts kept him from dwelling on the one thing he didn't want to think about - Snape. Damn. Life had been so much simpler when he hated the man, before he realized he was gay. Before he realized he wanted to be gay with Snape. Harry found himself smiling at the snake's description of nesting. He imagined one of Hogwarts' huge four poster beds, maybe done in Slytherin green, he and Snape curled up -

He nipped the fantasy in the bud before he fell out of the tree he was pruning. When he trudged back up the path to the tiny stone hut he spotted the black coil sleeping on the steps. Shifting the now-empty water bucket aside, he leaned over and pushed the door open.

"Come in, then," he said gruffly. "I'm afraid it's just leftovers tonight," he went on, wondering why he was apologizing for the menu.

"'S okay Harry," the snake said, making himself quite at home, sliding up onto the counter. "I don't come here for your cooking." Harry shot the snake a strange look, not sure if he was being teased. The tiny forked tongue was darting in and out as he started warming the stew. The snake seemed to become aware of the scrutiny, turning in his direction. "You're pretty good company for a human."

Harry grinned and tugged at his filthy shirt. "Let me just get cleaned up then," he said, shucking shirt and shorts, only slightly embarrassed. But a quick glance at the counter showed him the snake was more engrossed in sniffing the stew than in Harry's grooming. He washed up and put on some fresh clothes.

"I think there's some bread in here somewhere," he said, pulling down the clean T-shirt before rummaging through the cupboard. "Ah." He pulled out the loaf and butter and put both on the table. Then he checked the stew, adjusting the warming spell slightly, then stirring it with a heavy wooden spoon.

"Smells delicious," the snake said, head waving slightly.

Harry smiled. "It does, doesn't it?" He'd always had a healthy appetite; working outdoors this summer seemed to have turned him into a bottomless pit. "I guess all that potions training was good for something." He peered into the pot. "Running a bit low though. I'll have to make a new batch."

"Do you really cook for yourself?" came the curious question.

"Sure," Harry said matter-of-factly, dipping the ladle into the water bucket by the sink and adding some to the pot. "Got trained up a bit at my aunt and uncle's when I was a kid." He made a face. "When they still trusted me around their food." Another stir, and he was satisfied. "Anyway, Hagrid - he's the usual groundskeeper here - left enough food for an army so I don't think either of us will go hungry."

"You never eat at the castle?"

"Uh, no," Harry answered quickly. The tiny black head bobbed as if nodding.

"Because he is there, your man?"

Harry felt himself growing warm. "Look, we'll get on a lot better if we don't discuss my love life." Considering the last person he'd had sex with wasn't even a person.

"He might like it if you did," the snake said while Harry ladled soup into a wooden bowl, then plucked some savories out for his guest.

"He never did before," Harry said. "He doesn't like anything about me." He rolled his eyes. "Just what I need. A matchmaking serpent."

The snake took a fastidious bite, tongue flicking in obvious pleasure. "You don't seem to be managing too well on your own."

Breaking off some bread, Harry dunked it in the heavy stew. "I do all right." He waved the wedge at the snake. "Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I'm lonely." There, that sounded adult.

Sharp black eyes sidled across his face. "Hence last night."

Harry sat back hard in his chair. "I told you I feel weird about that." He dunked some more bread. "I'm not denying I have needs - everybody does. Apparently even snakes."

"Needs are one thing," the snake said, tongue flicking a bit of liquid off Harry's finger. "Mating is another. You fancy this man. Why not tell him?"

Harry grew very still. "It isn't that simple," he decided upon. He saw the snake start to protest and went on. "We have seven years of history - none of it favorable toward each other. I can't just come out with 'hello, I stayed around this summer because I think you're hot'. First of all he would never believe me, and second even if he did believe me he's never shown the slightest interest - " To his horror his voice broke, and he stood up suddenly, grabbing his bowl and rinsing it in the sink.

"Can we just let this go? "he said, back to the table. He felt something skim across his bare foot and up his bare leg. The snake settled comfortingly around his shoulders.

"Sure, Harry."

As before Harry aloud for awhile, enjoying the challenge of seeing the English words and translating them into Parseltongue. This time the snake stayed around his shoulders, head pointed toward the book as if following along. But hard work caught up with him early during this summer, and when he tried to stifle a yawn the long head bobbed toward him.

"I should let you get some sleep," it said, "since you don't have sense to sleep in the sun where it's warm." The tiny head was level with his own, the black eyes glinting softly in the soft lantern glow.

"You're welcome to stay if you like," Harry said, not sure how to phrase the invitation. 'I won't expect you to help me wank off' sounded a bit too harsh and 'but if the occasion arises' sounded too pathetic.

So he let the invitation stand until the snake said, "Thanks." The only difference tonight was that the snake waited until he had climbed into the narrow bed before sliding onto Harry's stomach, where it promptly coiled up and fell asleep. Harry, comforted by the presence of another creature, immediately did the same.

And managed to sleep through most of the night. The sun was just breaking when his eyes opened sleepily. Something was stroking him intimately. His eyes shot open as he reached for the glasses he kept on the night stand. He was half erect already when he saw the sinewy coil disappearing into his shorts. Whether he'd gotten hard on his own or with a little reptile help he didn't know.

Harry pulled the shorts over the snake, and the dark head lifted, uncoiling slightly before sliding down and wrapping itself around Harry's hardening length. The tail slapped lightly on either thigh, urging his legs apart, and Harry, way beyond embarrassment, complied.

The agile tail stroked him again, using quick fast strokes on his tight opening. Slowly the coils around his cock rose and fell, undulating slightly, squeezing him exactly right until Harry jerked his hips forward, climaxing hard, spilling onto himself and the snake.

As before the tiny red tongue circled the traces, washing them away before the snake turned its attention to its same own gleaming black body. "This is getting really weird," Harry said softly.

The hard, muscular body untwined from his softening cock and rested its head on his collarbone. "I notice you didn't ask me to stop." If snakes could smile, this snake would be smiling. Harry could tell.

He sighed. "Does the fact that I liked it make me a bad person?"

The snake shrugged a coil and Harry found himself smiling. "Does the fact that I like doing it make me a bad snake?" it countered.

Pulling the serpent up just behind its head, Harry sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, still naked. "I thought my life would be normal once Voldemort was gone," he said, running a distracted hand through his hair.

The snake glided to the floor, looking back at Harry. "Why is being normal so important to you?" The long black body wound up to the counter top, and the snake arched its neck over the water bucket. Since it was still looking at Harry, it didn't see that the bucket was empty. The added weight overbalanced the bucket, and the snake abruptly disappeared into the now wobbling bucket.

"Fuck!"

Harry laughed out loud, then again when the black head popped sheepishly back over the rim of the bucket. "I'm thirsty," it said grumpily, while Harry tried to stop chuckling. His wand was on the nightstand, so after the snake got out of the bucket he did the simple water spell, filling it to the rim with cool, clear water.

"Thanks," said the snake, stretching out full length before attempting to drink again. After a few rapturous sips the head turned back toward Harry. "You're very salty."

Still naked, Harry felt himself blushing. Worse, he felt the beginnings of another primitive reaction and decided he'd better clear out before things got weirder. He left the snake curled up on the hearth with a sleepy reminder about planting Snape's cinquefoil seeds.

"Tonight." The snake nodded, then settled back on its coils.

Harry worked hard that day, focusing again on the arduous labor instead of the things he'd rather not think about. Unlike yesterday, Snape was not foremost on that list. Having sex with a reptile occupied that spot.

He was so tired when he got back to the hut that he thought about ignoring the cinquefoil seeds. But the thought of the Potion Master's face clouding up with anger was enough to spur him on. He didn't see the black bundle of coils on the stairs leading into the hut, so he was not surprised to see the familiar shape on his bed.

"Make yourself at home," he said dryly. Both ends, head and tail, lifted in greeting. "How about eggs for dinner?" he asked cheerfully. How quickly he'd got used to the creature sharing his home.

"Lovely," came the hissing voice as the snake uncoiled. Harry decided he was imagining the interest in the black eyes while he shucked out of his work stained clothes. Get a grip Harry, he thought.

They ate, then read for a while until full darkness had fallen. With a sigh he closed the book. "Better get started on those seeds," he said, yawning.

"You're tired, Harry," the snake said from the arm of the chair. "Leave them until morning. He'll never know." The head lifted, following him as he stood.

"He'll know," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"I want to see how this chapter comes out," the snake went on, sounding petulant.

"It isn't up for discussion," Harry said, slipping his work boots back on.

"Can I come along, then?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure." So with his hitchhiker settled comfortably around his shoulders Harry set off for the walled herb garden. With no moon, it was extremely dark, but Harry knew the way.

"Harry," the snake said, its head riding close to his ear. "Can I ask you something?"

The young wizard chuckled. "Since when have you ever been shy?" Could snakes smile? This one seemed to expose its fangs whenever it was amused. Luckily, it was non-poisonous.

"I was wondering about something you said the other night, about your relatives not trusting you around their food." In Parseltongue 'relatives' sounded a bit like 'nest-mates', but he got the gist of it.

"Oh, that," Harry said, almost relieved. He wasn't sure what he'd been afraid the snake would ask, but this at least he could answer. "Nothing to it, really. They weren't wizards, so they hated anything to do with magic. They tried to stamp it out of me but of course it wouldn't go away." He angled up the small rise that led to the stone wall of the garden. "Anyway, Aunt Petunia used to make me cook for them - breakfast mostly, but I can do a nice lunch if I have to. But after a few years they started to watch me during the summer. Like I was going to do something horrible to them."

He chuckled, pushing open the iron work gate. It wasn't spelled since all it guarded was the herb garden. "After fifth year I think it was, I left my Potions text lying around, pages turned down for different poisons. I never had to cook again."

"Why did you stay there then?" the snake asked, as Harry closed the gate behind them.

"Had to. Place was protected. And at least doing chores for my aunt and uncle gave me something to do since they wouldn't let me do my homework." He pulled the cloth bag from his shorts pocket. For a little while, when it had come into his possession it had smelled comfortingly familiar, like the dungeons. Like Snape. Now the night air carried the pungent scents of growing herbs.

"Know anything about cinquefoil?" he asked, obviously changing the subject. Surprisingly the snake did, having, as he said, spent lots of time crawling around the garden. In no time at all, they had two rows planted. When they were done, Harry surveyed their labor by the light of his wand.

"In the old days they planted it in the nude," the snake said, still riding his shoulder.

"Hence the new moon, I'll bet," Harry guessed, getting an image of Snape out here, his pale skin- The sound of hissing laughter broke his reverie.

"You're probably right," the snake said. Mission completed, they trudged back to the stone hut, and with the comforting weight of the snake on his stomach he fell asleep.

Over the next few days they settled into a comfortable pattern. Sometimes Harry would be alone when he woke up; sometimes he found the snake still curled up next to him. It was nice, though, to have the reptile there every evening, though the unusual intimacy was not repeated. Harry wasn't sure whether to feel relieved about that or not.

One night after dinner he left the snake dozing, deciding to catch up on something he'd been neglecting. Sponge baths were usually enough to get by, especially with the good cleaning spell he knew, and the occasional dip in the lake. Tonight, though, he wanted something more.

Hagrid kept the large wooden tub in the storage shed, so Harry magicked it out the door sideways. It was too big to fit inside the hut so he left it in the lee of the shed, private enough for his purposes.

Wand in hand he began filling water buckets from the well pump, levitating each one then dumping them into the tub until he was satisfied with the water level. One last spell. "Thermia," he said softly, and a gentle steam rose from the tub. He let it cool a bit while he ducked into the hut for the uneven bar of home-milled soap and a towel. Once outside, he shucked his clothes and slid into the tub.

He'd heard of Muggle hot tubs, but this, he decided, was better. The soft sounds of the night from the forest around him soothed him. The steam quickly fogged up his glasses, so he carefully set them on top of his shorts and leaned back against the wooden edge of the tub, closing his eyes.

Somewhere between sleep and waking Harry felt something tickle his nipple. He jolted away from the sides of the tub and immediately heard a splash and a gurgling hiss. One hand swiped the ground beside the tub, grabbing his wand.

"Lumos," he said, pretty sure he already knew the identity of the culprit. A very wet, very grumpy snake was slithering up the edge near his toes. Once out of the water it undulated along the wide edge, tail sending slight splashes of water back into the tub.

"So much for seduction," came the irritated hiss.

"Is that what you were up to?" Harry asked, still smiling. He put his wand back onto the grass.

"You haven't indulged for many nights," the snake replied. "I was getting worried."

Harry chuckled softly. The night was too warm and he was too relaxed to think about how weird it was to be discussing his masturbatory habits with a serpent. "It isn't all about sex," he pointed out.

The flat black head rested on the thick edge, close to Harry's head. "It is for snakes." Then the triangular head lifted as if reconsidering. "Unless you count the whole fending for survival thing."

Harry dropped the wet washcloth over his chest, enjoying the warmth despite the outside temperature. "Are you saying I'm spoiling you?" He wrung the cloth out and dropped it over the tilted head, eliciting more sputtered cursing. Harry listened intently, still smiling at both the invective and the attempts to dislodge the washcloth.

"You've got a pretty good vocabulary for a snake," he commented. "But I think that stuff with the goat is impossible."

A beady black eye fixed on him. "I'll bet a week ago you would have said the same thing about a snake."

When Harry woke up the next morning, the snake was nowhere in sight. Despite the teasing last night, his companion had curled up with him as usual. So, bucket in one hand and sandwich tin in the other, Harry stepped out into the warm morning.

And saw Professor Snape heading across the grounds toward him. For some reason Harry felt the urge to bolt. But the man had already seen him so Harry stayed rooted to the spot. "Mr. Potter," the older man said, by way of greeting.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said. How did Snape manage to look so cool and collected this early in the morning?

"I've come to collect the cinquefoil," the honey-warm voice said but Harry frowned.

"I only planted it last week. The new moon - that's what you said." He didn't see how he could have mucked it up. Dark eyes rested on him, and Snape's mouth frowned impatiently.

"The seeds were spelled," Snape explained, as though to a First Year.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling very much like that first year. "Right." He set down the bucket and tin, looking longingly toward the stone steps, hoping to catch a glimpse of the snake, but the steps were bare. "This way then."

Snape fell into step beside him and though neither spoke the silence wasn't strained. Harry had never been very good at small talk and Snape didn't seem to expect it. Now that he was no longer a student he didn't have to make excuses or explanations. It was different now.

They reached the walled garden and Harry led them to the bed when he'd planted the leafy plant. True enough, it had risen in luxurious leafy bunches. Snape pulled out his wand and a small pair of snips, enchanting the snips so they zoomed over to the plants and began harvesting. Harry watched in admiration.

"That's quite a spell," he said truthfully. Then he remembered who he was talking to and looked over. But there was a slight smile on the lean face.

"My own." Snape's eyes followed the snips, wand mimicking the hovering sheers. "I'll teach it to you if you like."

At the sound of the word 'teach' Harry again felt the oddity of the situation. Why did this man always make him feel like he was 11 years old?

"That'd be great, thanks," he said and then neither spoke until Snape let the scissors drift into his hand, and pulling a folded cloth bag from his pocket, bent to collect the bunches. The snake was right, Harry reflected, it had been too long since he'd indulged. Snape bending over, squatting, long elegant fingers collecting the plants - every action was playing havoc with his libido. Not now, he pleaded with his hormones, knowing they'd be along later to collect. He promised them anything if only they'd leave him alone now. When Harry could think straight again he realized some things never changed. Like the desire he felt around Snape.

Luckily, the older man straightened. "An excellent batch," Snape said, though Harry wasn't sure it was a compliment or an observation of the spelled seeds. Then the dark eyes fastened on him. "You chose an excellent location." The eyes left his face and took in the rest of the garden. "Good soil and perfect light."

That pretty much sounded like praise. Too bad, Harry thought wryly, he couldn't accept it. "I er, had some help. Advice, I mean," he admitted, thinking of the snake around his shoulders that night.

"You were wise to take it." Snape hefted the bag then paused, studying Harry again. Then he took a deep breath, as though bracing for something. "Two weeks before term begins the Headmaster has a - gathering to welcome all the staff."

Harry blinked in surprise, while Snape named the date. "You are of course welcome to attend."

It was somehow hard to think of anything to say. Which was exactly why he had to say, "I don't think so, but thanks."

A moment of silence. Then, "Hagrid was included every year and never failed to put in an appearance."

Was Snape coaxing him?

"I'm certain the Headmaster would be delighted to see you since you haven't been down to the castle all summer. Professor McGonagall will be back by then as well."

He was being coaxed.

"Thanks, but - "he began, uncertain how to explain how uncomfortable such a thing would be for him. He was barely coherent now in Snape's presence. He could only imagine how awkward a social setting would be.

The elegant lips thinned, and a cross look flickered in the dark eyes. "If you won't do it for Dumbledore you might do it for yourself. You're spending far too much time by yourself up here. Company would do you some good."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Look who's talking," he said without thinking.

Something glinted in the all but unblinking eyes. "I am older - much older - and have chosen my solitude with the sure knowledge that my company is not always - welcome."

Harry tried to take in the extraordinary confession. Snape, however, wasn't waiting for a comeback - snappy or otherwise.

"Suit yourself, then. I've discharged my duty. Six o'clock in the staff lounge if you change your mind."

Harry stared after the retreating back long after it was out of sight.

He didn't see the snake again until he took his lunch break, to find it curled upon the sun- drenched gray rock. The black head arched in greeting.

"Glad to see you're in one piece." The black body slid off the rock and followed Harry to his shady spot under the tree. "I saw you leave with him this morning," the snake explained. "I wasn't sure."

Harry unwrapped the sandwich and offered a bit of meat to his companion. Though it wasn't a subject he really wanted to discuss, he answered thoughtfully. "Oh, he'd never hurt me. He spent too much time pulling my arse out of trouble to do anything like that." He ended up telling the snake the whole conversation, including the rather extraordinary confession.

Finishing up the bit of meat the snake flicked it long tongue fastidiously. "I think you should go."

Harry found half a smile from someplace. "That's unexpected." The snake flicked its tongue again in a definite hissing sort of reptilian raspberry. "I don't think so."

"Do you want to see this man or not? Isn't that why you stayed here all summer?"

"I always say something stupid or nothing at all. I shouldn't have stayed here at all. I should have gone as far away as possible."

"Thanks," came the dry hiss, and Harry looked down sheepishly. "If you fancy this man you should tell him. And you should go to the castle."

Harry pulled idly at the grass under the tree. "Oh that would be a brilliant conversation." He pantomimed holding a cup of tea. "Excuse me, Professor Snape - I was just wondering. The last seven years you've spent hating my guts? Was that just a cover for wanting to shag me?" At his knee the snake hissed with laughter, and Harry felt his mood lift. It was impossible not to smile at snake laughter.

"It would be a start," the snake advised, through hisses that sounded suspiciously like hiccups.

That night Harry didn't even pretend he wasn't aroused as the snake wound up his leg. He'd replayed the brief conversation with his former teacher over and over in his head all day while he worked.

Solid snake tail trailed between the cleft of his legs, gliding over his entrance almost teasingly. Harry, stroking himself, groaned. There was a pressure on his balls as the snake wrapped around them, exerting gentle pressure, kneading them. When the tiny tongue flicked onto his cockhead Harry thrust his hips upward, almost, almost calling a name. As before Harry felt himself being cleaned up with fastidious strokes.

When it was finished the snake settled on Harry's chest and he rubbed the top of its head. "Did you think about him?" it asked.

"Yeah," Harry admitted, knowing there was no point in lying.

"Good night, Harry," came the quiet voice.

"Good night, Snake." Harry laid awake a few minutes. Then, "Snake?"

"Hmm?" the sleepy voice asked, head lifting slightly.

"What were you thinking about?"

"You," came the sleepy reply as the head settled back to Harry's chest.

Trudging home on the second to the last day of July Harry fixed his usual simple dinner, and as was his habit, read with the snake for a while before yawning as he got up to stretch. Then he went over to the stove and put on a pot of tea. The long sinewy body of his friend glided up onto the counter, looking at the gaily decorated teapot, then up to Harry.

"Tea?'

Harry waggled his eyebrows and set out the teacup and saucer. "Going to try to stay awake a bit late tonight." He rubbed the head affectionately. "You don't have to if you're sleepy."

"Why?"

"I'll show you at midnight," he said, taking the water off and adding the tea to steep. "If you're awake," he added a bit challengingly.

"I'll be awake."

So they settled back into the leather chair and read two more chapters. Harry was getting quite good at reading in Parseltongue. A few moments before midnight he got up again and reached into the bread box, pulling out a fist sized brown wrapped bundle. He had to unspell it before opening it. Inside was a barely squashed cupcake with heaping swirls of chocolate frosting. He rummaged around in the supply drawer and pulled out a bit of candle and stuck it in the center. At nearly midnight he lit the candle and set it on the table as the snake slithered up beside him, obviously curious.

At midnight he made a wish and blew out the candle. "Happy Birthday, Harry," he said softly, then grinned down at the snake. "You're the first person, well, living thing, to help me celebrate."

"I'm honored," the snake said, then eyed the cupcake. "Aren't you going to eat that?"

"Greedy reptile," Harry chided but unpeeled the cupcake he'd bought in Hogsmeade on his last student weekend there. He broke off a piece and offered the snake some.

"Mmm," it said, tongue flicking over the morsel then switching to the wrapper itself, where it crackled under reptilian weight.

The next day he had owls from Ron and Hermione, one from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, one from Hagrid, and one from the Headmaster. That last one had a note, "hope to see you on the 12th."

"You are going, aren't you?" the snake asked. Harry stared down at the brightly colored card.

"Maybe for a little while," he said, cautiously, feeling very happy for his birthday, his first on his own. It could have been a lonely time, though of course he'd had invitations from all his friends to visit them. He guided the snake up onto his shoulder and took his usual chair beside the fire. He felt a nudge on his arm.

"You didn't eat much at dinner."

Harry leaned back in the overstuffed chair. "Mmm, bit tired of my own cooking I guess." He was running a bit low on eggs and was thinking that maybe he should try the market in Hogsmeade to replenish Hagrid's stock.

"Then it'll be good to go down to the castle in a few days."

Harry rolled his eyes even though from this angle the snake probably couldn't see him. "Don't start. I said I'd think about it."

"What's to think about?" The coils moved in a fair approximation of a shrug.

Harry got up and searched the tiny bookshelf built into the wall. It hung at a slightly crooked angle, and the books were correspondingly slanted. He pulled out the one he was looking for, a cookbook that was mostly huge sheets of parchment strung together with twine. "Maybe I could try something new," he said, clearly changing the subject. Seeing Snape was definitely something he didn't want to think about.

He felt the gentle glide of scales against his arm, then under the cookbook until the muscular head was nudging his lap. "Hmm, sounds nice," the snake said in an obviously aroused tone.

"Damn, you're the horniest snake I've ever met." He stretched out his legs, giving the snake a bit more room. Purely for comfort, he told himself.

The tail anchored the small body around Harry's leg. "Doesn't take *you* long, I notice."

Harry tried to ignore his own body. "Well, I'm 17, oh, 18 now." Slow rhythmic motions in his lap were distracting him. At least he wasn't thinking about - "Damn it, stop that."

Low hissing noises. "Your loss." The snake draped across his lap, its triangular head popping up over the edge of the cookbook.

"So," Harry said determinedly, "We could try something different. I could try firing up the oven. Bake something." He sighed. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm trying to be an adult here."

The pointed head angled to look at him, obviously grumpy. "All right. What can you make me? Something with eggs?"

Harry smiled. "Actually dinner is still nominally for me."

The snake ignored him, its head weaving dreamily. "Fried eggs are lovely."

Over the heavy tome, Harry scratched the ebony head. "Food and sex. Is that all snakes think about?"

The tiny head arched into the moving finger moving over its head. "Sleep is very high on the list as well." One beady eye fixed on Harry. "And you won't let me talk about the one thing I want to."

Petting a snake was very relaxing. "What?" He sighed. "Oh that. I might as well tell you, I probably won't go."

The snake gave the reptilian equivalent of sputtering. "Why not?" It pulled its head from under Harry's stroking finger peevishly. "I thought you'd at least say you were thinking about it to keep me quiet."

Harry shrugged and folded the cookbook, setting it beside the chair. "There seems to be no doing that. Look, if I go I'll end up saying something stupid, and his last impression of me will be of some stupid kid he's always loathed." The snake was paying close attention. "If I don't go at least his last impression of me with be That Potter Who Didn't Screw Up The Cinquefoil."

For a long moment the snake regarded him levelly. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." It unwrapped its tail and curled its coils higher on Harry's leg. "Why are you so sure you'll say something stupid? You don't seem any stupider than most humans I've met."

"Thanks."

"You talk to me just fine," the snake added.

"That's different. You like me." It was true, Harry thought. At least he didn't think the snake would hang around just for the food. Or the sex.

If a snake could look smug, this snake did. "Easy then. When you talk to him pretend he's me. Snake. Snape. They sound alike. Even in your tongue."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He watched the snake ease back down his leg and nudge his fly again. "Can we?"

Even though he didn't say 'yes' he spread his legs. "Make up your mind. Are you hungry or horny?" He unzipped his shorts and took his cock out. The tiny tongue slid out.

"Pretty much the same thing when you're a snake," it said softly, winding itself around the firming flesh. "Do you think about him when I do this?"

"Yeah," Harry said, panting slightly. "Does that bother you?" He leaned back in the chair, trying not to move too much so as not to dislodge the snake.

"Of course not. Tell me what you think about." One coil had wrapped around his balls.

"Like a fantasy?" He had plenty of those. None of them involved a snake.

"Snakes don't have fantasies. Just tell me what you think about." He was fully erect, and he could feel the snake undulating against his belly. He liked the feel of the muscular coil moving in several directions over him.

"Well, I think of him naked, of course. Thin and - oh god, pale." How did the snake move in several directions at once? "I think about what his cock looks like." He pursed his lips to keep the moan in but looked down, and it escaped. "What his cock looks like as my mouth slides over it, what his come tastes like." The tiny tongue flickered over his head, tasting the clear liquid dewing his tip.

"I wonder if he'll go down on me," he went on, giving voice to things he'd only ever thought about. "Whether those lips I've been staring at for so long will wrap - oh yes, just like that - around my own cock." The snake was moving faster. "I'm not going to last much - "

"Just keep talking," the snake instructed.

"I want him to fuck me," Harry said, though he was breathing hard, but at least the images were very clear now. "I want him to want to fuck me so bad he can hardly wait, just mount me and slide it in. I want him to talk dirty to me while he's pounding me. Maybe his breath smells a little like my come while he's talking." His fingers were clutching the arms of the chair, hips jerking involuntarily.

"What does he say, Harry?" The tip of the triangular head nudged his nipple, rubbing back and forth with the same rhythm as the surging coils.

"So tight," he panted, "So hot. He says he's going to fuck me so hard I'll never need another man, never want any cock but his." His lips parted; he was so close. "He says 'come for me, Harry'."

"Come for me, Harry." It was all he needed to push him over the edge. He caught his breath as the expected slow licks cleaned him. "You'll go to the castle?"

Harry stared down at his lap. "I'll think about it."

The snake reminded him of his moment of birthday weakness nearly every day after that until on the evening of the 12th Harry knocked off early and went to spell the washtub. So that when he was standing outside the corridor of the second floor staff room he missed the comforting weight of the snake around his shoulders. Obviously no one had done a silencing spell since sounds of merriment came from within.

Then he walked in and was instantly greeted like he'd been away for years rather than a few weeks. Harry's gaze took in the room quickly. Snape was nowhere to be seen. Was this one of those occasions where the Potions Master felt his presence was not welcome? Trying hard to suppress his disappointment, Harry told himself it didn't matter. It wasn't as though he had anything to say to the man. He'd just wanted to see the man again.

Harry paid his respects to his host, chatting amiably with Dumbledore, who plied him with questions about his summer and tried to get him to eat.

"You're too thin by half, Harry," Dumbledore chided.

He allowed himself to get distracted by his former Head of House, Professor McGonagall, who had just returned, she informed him, from visiting her sister in Australia. He was listening politely to a description of her trip when a prickle of awareness made him look up. Professor Snape, looking as elegant as ever, was standing by the door talking to Professor Sinistra.

McGonagall's eyes followed Harry's, and she smiled at the object of his attention. "Oh, finally. I haven't seen Severus at all since I got back, and I'm dying to ask him how his project is going."

Harry forced himself to look away, still conscious of trying not to attract attention around his former professor. Snape hadn't seen him yet, obviously wasn't looking for him. "What project?"

The Scotswoman's voice lowered conspiratorially, "Professor Snape is going to register as an Animagus before term starts, assuming he's perfected his transition.

Harry felt himself start to shake. "Excuse me, Professor," he said, unable to meet her eyes. He stalked across the crowded room. Something must have alerted his prey for the dark head suddenly looked up, caught sight of Harry, eyes narrowing.

Harry planted himself in front of the taller man, too angry and too hurt to care how this might look. "I guess you thought that was funny," he said, voice low but harsh, "pretending to be a snake, pretending to be my friend and laughing the whole time while I poured my he - heart out to you."

Something angry had welled out of him, but he forced it back. "I don't know if you did it because of that stupid grudge against my father or just because you loathe me or on general principle, but the game is *over*." His voice had risen but only the last few words could have been audible to anyone but the startled man in front of him. He whirled on one heel.

"Harry, wait!" Snape cried out, but Harry had bolted. No one knew these corridors better than he did and he was quickly out of range of the staff room.

Betrayal burned in him like bile, biting away the stinging tears behind his eyes. He didn't stop until he was at the statue of the hump-backed witch. With a simple wave of his wand he was inside where no one could find him.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have known? For all the caution he'd shown, the snake could have been Voldemort risen again, and he'd been so lonely and desperate he'd invited the viper right into his home. And into his bed. Harry's cheeks burned with shame. He'd been sleeping with Snape for weeks, and he hadn't known it.

Be careful what you wish for, Harry, he thought, feeling dangerous hysterical laughter welling up inside him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And what could be done about it? He wanted to go back to Hagrid's hut and pack his things and leave Hogwarts forever. With a sigh, he realized he couldn't just leave. Perhaps he wouldn't have to face Snape after this. Now that the game was up, he didn't think the evil bastard would have the courage to face him.

He'd walked the length of the passageway, then apparated himself into the village. He didn't feel much like going home so he wandered the quiet village for awhile, then started down the path for home. Home. How stupid he'd even been to consider Hogwarts his home. After the summer he doubted he'd ever come back. The thought made his heart sink but he knew it was true. He couldn't face...his humiliation again.

The hut was dark when he got home. He hadn't gone out much in the long summer evenings and he wasn't used to leaving a light on at home. Once inside he leaned heavily on the door. Unshed tears burned behind his eyes, though whether he felt worse about being humiliated - yet again - by Snape, or at losing a friend he couldn't tell. Turning around slowly in the dark, he fumbled for his wand and lit a single candle.

A familiar black shape was coiled on the bed. For just a second he felt a surge of relief. He wanted to unburden his problems to his friend. Some friend. "Get out," he said, anger like ashes in his mouth.

The black head lifted plaintively. "I wanted to talk."

Harry grunted. "Too late." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, in the dent left by his glasses. "You've had your laugh." He went over and lit several more of the lamps. "You aren't my professor anymore, and I don't have to do what you say. Now, get out."

The long black shape stretched. "I know I'm not your teacher anymore. I hoped I was your friend." The triangle shaped head lifted higher, tongue flicking experimentally as if testing the undercurrents in the room. "I thought we could talk about anything."

Shame burned in Harry's belly. "Oh god! The things I told you!" Then it got worse. "The things we did." He turned away from the bed, unable to bear even the beady glare of the snake. He heard a rustling behind him.

"I rather enjoyed being your friend," came a very human voice behind him. Harry turned around slowly. Snape, dressed exactly as he had been at the party, sat on the narrow cot, long legs over the edge, holding onto the thin mattress. "I, uh, rather enjoyed the other bits too."

"I'll bet you did. The only good thing is that when you laugh about this to your evil Slytherins you'll come off as just as weird." Harry had a sudden flash of Malfoy's snide face gleaming with laughter at Harry's expense.

"Harry." The soft voice made him close his eyes against the assault of it. "I've no intention of telling anyone. I never intended to hurt you." A pale hand dragged through the untidy hair. "I never intended anything more than to see if my transfiguration could pass muster with a parselmouth." Dark eyes met his own. "Then you ended up defending me to the snake. I didn't know what that was all about." He swallowed hard. "I still don't."

Harry folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowing. "Gratitude. You saved my life. I was grateful. I suppose that led to - the rest, but that's all it was. Nothing more." Keen eyes studied his face but he schooled his features to blankness. He'd had his whole life to practice.

"That's all?"

A tight nod. "Yeah."

"And the, er, other bits?" Snape asked with a trace of snideness.

The hands dropped and Harry closed his eyes tightly. "For god's sake! Don't tell me you never do it," he said, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks.

A definite smirk. "Not with a snake."

It was a definite sign of his agitation that he was taking it in stride that he was talking about masturbation with Snape. "Bastard," Harry spat. The two regarded each other warily. Then Harry watched as Snape reached into his trouser pocket and took out a small vial ,setting it on the bed beside him. Harry knew what it was immediately.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," he said, frowning.

"Don't be an idiot," Snape said, unfurling from the bed, suddenly filling the tiny hut with his very male presence. He picked up the vial and handed it to the wary young man. "To prove there was no malice in what I did."

Harry took an instinctive step backward. "You'd really do that?" Wordlessly Snape nodded and, Harry looked at the vial in his hand. "Any, er, restrictions on what I can ask?"

The thin shoulders shrugged. "How can I put limitations on you? Once the serum takes effect I am powerless."

The last word made Harry shiver. He uncorked the vial and sniffed it. "Untrusting brat, aren't you?" Snape said, but there was a smile flickering around the edges of his mouth. Harry didn't dignify the remark with a response. He took the stopper and sucked up the merest drop. If the potions master thought he was bluffing he was in for a surprise. The older man stepped over to Harry, and bending toward him slightly, stuck out his tongue. Snape closed his eyes, and when they opened again his whole face had changed, softened.

Harry led them over to the wooden bench, where Snape sat while Harry took the larger chair. He felt a pang of nervousness, but he was almost looking forward to this. "Why did you pretend to be my friend?"

The black brows shot up. "I wasn't pretending. I like you."

Oh.

"Why did you come to me as a snake?" he asked.

"To see if my transformation was good enough for a parselmouth." Veritaserum compelled the person to speak the truth, but they could only answer what was asked.

"Was that the only reason?"

"Yes, of course."

Harry knew he'd have to just come out and ask. "And the er, other bits?"

A frown passed over the severe features. "Pardon?"

Harry got the impression Snape was enjoying this. He gritted his teeth. "The sex?"

A languid smirk touched Snape's face. "Not in the form of a question."

He had to know. Bracing himself he asked. "Why did you have sex with me?'

The smirk was more like a genuine smile now, still languid. "Because I'm attracted to you."

Harry's heart began a slow pound in his chest. "You're gay?"

Snape raked his eyes heavenward. "I should think that the fact that I've been wrapping myself around your cock would be clue enough even for you, Potter."

Harry had to focus on the conversation and not on the images popping up in his brain. "If you knew how I felt - "

"I didn't," Snape interrupted. "I really didn't know. Any of it. I knew the last few years we've had a sort of truce. I knew you trusted me. But until you got angry at the snake for insulting me I had no idea it was anything more than rudimentary gratitude." Harry tried to take the words in, softly and sincerely uttered in that voice that never failed to make his insides flutter.

"Now," Snape said, crossing his legs and leaning back slightly on the bench. "Are you going to keep being childish or are we going to put an end to this?"

Curious, Harry asked, "How?"

Snape's face no longer looked soft. He looked every inch as formidable as he did when Harry had first seen him. This man didn't need robes to look imposing. "You can either forgive me so I can leave, or - "

"So you admit you need forgiving!" Harry pounced, as Snape looked down into his lap.

"I admit I liked spending time with you as your friend too much to end the charade. I would have confessed - eventually."

Harry knew he had to believe the older man, knowing Snape had left himself an out with that 'eventually'. He sat back in the worn leather chair. "So, the other option is not to forgive you?"

"The other option," Snape said, easing flawlessly into lecture mode, "is to forgive me anyway then come over and kiss me since it wasn't a thing I could do properly as - "

Harry shut him up in the most expedient way possible, crossing the scant distance between them, launching himself into the long black length, covering his mouth with his own. Snape's mouth was warm and pliant against his, unhesitatingly inviting himself inside the snug haven. Almost at the exact moment they groaned, Harry burying himself closer, needing, seeking the warmth Snape seemed to radiate.

"You're forgiven," he said, wrapping his arms around Snape's neck, delighting in the soft feel of his hair as it brushed his arms. He took a deep breath of the ebon stuff. "You smell like - " he began, distracting himself by kissing the skin behind the curtain of hair.

"Potions and dead things," the pragmatic potions master breathed in his ear, unable to lie.

"Moonlight," Harry breathed raptly. There were hands on his back, sure and knowing, pulling him into the firm lap. Then the hands cupped his arse, pulling him as close as possible, molding Harry's body into Snape's. Harry gasped, feeling the hard length of Snape's erection against his own. Which of course had been the point.

"Oh this is..."he breathed, the lovely mouth working on his neck. "Too good." The mouth had worked its way down to his collar, while fingers unbuttoned his shirt. "When did you first - uh." Snape's mouth had found his nipple. "Become attracted to me?"

The dark head jerked up, smoky eyes boring into him. "The moment I laid eyes on you," he said, voice a bit rough. Then he returned his attention to his prize, dropping kisses over the expanse of chest.

Harry worked out the answer. "Perv!" he said, laughing. Snape looked up guiltily.

"Not like that," he began, then reconsidered, "All right, like that but I knew it could never be, never be like this." One finger traced the edge of Harry's jaw. Their faces were very close.

"I never knew," Harry admitted, "never suspected either. Why didn't you, I don't know, say something?" His arms were still around Snape's neck.

"You said it yourself, to the snake, what a lovely conversation that would be." He dropped his head back, shaking the hair away from his face. "Oi, Potter, now that you're sixteen, how about shagging your old Potions Master?" He should his head. "Wouldn't have done."

Harry undulated his hips into the thinner ones of his former teacher's. "Did you ever wank off thinking about me?"

A thrilling smile settled onto those perfect lips. "Oh yes. As man and snake."

Harry's pants suddenly became unbearably tight. "I'd like to see that," he moaned.

"Well, you've seen the snake part," came the silken response, "and there are so many things I'd like to show you," and as reading his thoughts Snape moved his hands down Harry's fly, unbuttoning and unzipping with a focus Harry found extraordinary. When his cock surged into Snape's hand it was a relief to both of them.

"You've no idea how I tormented myself," Snape breathed, "wanting this as a snake."

Harry felt as though he could hardly catch his breath. "Bed?" he asked, but Snape could only nod, helping him off with the rest of his clothes as he stood. Naked, Harry tugged Snape over to the sturdy cot.

"I can't believe my first time with you as a man is going to be in Hagrid's bed." Snape bemoaned, lifting his shirt over his head. Harry grinned, running a hand along the creamy flesh.

"There's no way I can make it to the dungeon," Harry said, unbuttoning the uncompromising buttons straining over Snape's arousal. "Besides, you didn't mind before." He yanked the black pants down until Snape was as naked as he was. He inhaled deeply.

"Not what I have in mind," the older man said, pulling Harry into a grinding kiss as though branding him with his lips. Harry shivered, drinking in the hungry mouth.

"When did you first get hard thinking about me?" he asked when Snape broke away, pushing him onto the bed. Harry reached up with his hands for the lean elegant form to cover him.

"I - " Snape began, then a slow triumphant smile settled onto the full lips. "I don't think I want to tell you that." He settled his long legs beside Harry's, one knee arching over Harry's thigh. Cock met cock for the first time as Harry moved himself against the glorious hardness.

"You were too cautious with the dosage," Snape smirked. "You could have had hours of lurid confessions."

Harry threaded his hands in the wave of black hair. "I'll settle for hours of lurid sex."

A hand trailed down his chest, onto the smooth plane of his belly, clasping both erections. "Hours, eh?" The hand trailed down Harry's balls, then below them.

"I'll settle for a hot shag, basking in the afterglow and a lot of cuddling," Harry amended as the finger slipped still lower. Harry arched into it. "Definitely ready for my hot shag now," he said, then, "Oh shit!" The finger stilled at Harry's outburst, and Harry's expression turned bleak. "I seriously doubt Hagrid has anything even remotely resembling - " He was mentally reviewing the contents of the larder in desperation when Snape chuckled.

"There are spells for that, Harry," he said, leaning over the bed for his wand. "Ones we don't teach the students." He muttered the incantation and slipped his finger inside Harry easily.

"Oh that's - that's - "

"I wanted to crawl inside you as a snake," Snape said, voice gloriously roughened by passion. Fingers echoes words. "Fuck your tight arse senseless." A second finger went in, stretching him, filling him.

"Why didn't you?" he managed, watching Snape's head lower just enough to stroke his tongue across the tip of Harry's erect cock, swirling the clear pre-come away.

"I didn't want to shock you," came the honeyed voice.

Harry smiled dreamily. "I've been wanking off with a snake. What else could shock me?" His hand moved again to the lustrous hair.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't mean to - " Fingers cupped him intimately, and Harry, enjoying the sensation from within and without, pulled Snape's head to his own for a long kiss.

"'S okay," he managed, their lips still close.

Then the dark head lifted, as fingers slid out and tangled in the curly hair between Harry's thighs. "In light of what I did," Snape said, and Harry was surprised to see faint color suffusing the pale cheeks. "I've no objection if you'd like to - if you'd like me to - "

Something like joy bubbled out of Harry's chest, and one hand came up to stroke Snape's cheek. "I need you inside me," Harry said, pushing his hips against the older man's. "I've thought about it for so long." Harry knew he would treasure the expression on his lover's face for a long time.

Instead of replying, Snape lowered his head and captured Harry's mouth with an exquisite gentleness that excited Harry as much as the hunger. Fingers that had been caressing him fell away, and Snape used the last traces of the enchanted lube on his own engorged cock. Harry felt his own breathing speed up at the sight. He remembered the fantasy he had shared with the snake of Snape wanting him so much he could hardly wait.

Levering up, the older man scooped up Harry's legs, lifting them around his waist. Harry grabbed one of the thick cushions and scooted it under his hips. Thus poised, they took a moment to stare at each other, taking it all in. Then Snape's hard length was at his entrance, easing in until a final surge buried Snape deep inside him. Their mouths found each other, their hips moved together. There wasn't much finesse involved but neither man seemed to notice. A warm hand snaked around his erection, stroking him. Harry wanted it to last all night but felt his balls tightening, felt the need of it drawing them both into a spiraling sensual coil.

Hair fell into Harry's eyes as the two men collapsed together, limbs tangled, chests heaving. Then Snape got onto his elbows and looked into Harry's face, smoothing away the untidy hair. "One hot shag," Snape said, as though reviewing a potion ingredient. "Basking to commence immediately." He frowned down at his hips then eased them apart before dipping down, and with snakelike concentration, began licking the spent seed from Harry's belly.

It was the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen. He felt the stirrings of arousal, which only increased when Snape noticed his stirring cock. With a look upward Snape moved downward, turning his attention to the burgeoning hardness.

"You're supposed to be basking," he scolded, though it held no real heat between languid strokes of his tongue.

"Mmm," Harry purred, "let's amend the plan - one hot shag, one leisurely blow job, then straight to the cuddle."

Stroking slowly around the head with his tongue, Snape broke long enough to murmur, "One blow job coming up," then swallowed Harry to the short hairs.

The dark hair was irresistible; he'd dreamed of touching it so many times. Now that he was free to indulge he saw no reason not to. Around his erection he heard Snape murmur appreciatively while Harry watched in dreamy awe, the pale body stretched out between his legs, smooth and creamy. As he'd fantasized from all that staring in Potions, Snape had a sexy body. From this angle Harry could see the not overly rounded curves of his lover's arse.

One long-fingered hand gently cupped his balls, rolling them expertly, pressing them into the base of Harry's now firm arousal. Harry watched the elegant mouth round over his cock head, sliding, licking, down the underside. The hand around his testicles slid into the short thatch of dark hair as Snape slowly licked his balls, taking them into his mouth

Then the hand slid down the crease of his thigh, longest finger slipping easily back inside his hole. His own fingers clenched in the dark hair, subtly setting the pace, bumping it from 'leisurely' to 'intense'. A strangled cry tore out of his throat as he spilled himself into the eagerly sucking mouth. When he managed to open his eyes again slitted, snake-like ones watched him contentedly from the V of his thighs.

"I think I need that cuddle now," he said, his own voice sounding sated and happy. Wordlessly Snape climbed up beside him, pulling him into the strong chest, hands never leaving his skin. Then a grunt; the lean body adjusted beside him, then sighed.

"What?" Harry looked over curiously.

"Bare arses and stone walls don't mix," his lover said, a bit grumpily.

Harry chuckled, already languidly anticipating the next evening and smoothing over said abused portion. "It's lovely down here, with you all snuggly."

The fine dark brow arched. "See if I let you bottom next time."

"Next time?" Two sets of eyes met and Snape smiled languidly.

"In the dungeon. I'm not spending the rest of the summer in Hagrid's bed with bits of rock poking me in sensitive areas. Areas," he added, "I have use for in the near future."

Harry wrapped his arms around Snape. "The dungeon sounds lovely." He was delighted to discover that his new lover took his cuddling very seriously, hands never idle on his chest, thumb tracing patterns around his nipple. "So, uh, Severus," Harry said, drowsy and sated but still curious.

"Hmmm?" came the languid voice beside him.

"Can I ask you one more thing? Even though the veritaserum has worn off?"

"Your first Quidditch match."

Harry looked over. "Huh?"

The dark head lifted and looked down at him. "That's when I first got hard looking at you. That's how I noticed that bastard Quirrell was hexing you, though little comfort it gave me in my utter mortification."

Harry opened his mouth in astonishment.

"That isn't what you were going to ask, was it?"

Harry shook his head. "But thanks."

Snape eyed him suspiciously then leaned his head on his elbow, moving his other hand up to Harry's collarbone, tracing the jutting flesh. Harry took the silence as assent and plunged ahead. "Why did you want me to go to the party tonight so badly?" As a snake Snape had mentioned it constantly in the last week.

A leer settled onto the severe features. "So I could lure you down to the dungeon to have my evil way with you." He paused, biting his bottom lip. "Then confess."

The young man knew he didn't need truth serum to believe that. "Oh I see, evil way first, then confession?"

The wandering hand had moved up to his face, snaking along his bottom lip. "I am a Slytherin. I figured even if I had to confess first I'd still have a pretty good shot with you." Harry rubbed his mouth along the accommodating fingers. "That Quidditch game, eh?"

"Mmm," Snape said, a bit dreamily, still focused on the cuddling. Just one finger now, on Harry's bottom lip, almost absent mindedly slipping just the tip in and out.

Harry clamped his teeth lightly around the intruding digit, then wrapped his lips around it, sucking it down to the knuckle. The dark eyes widened appreciatively, as he slid the finger back out. "Will you still love me when I'm an old man of 25 or 30?" Harry asked playfully, but found himself waiting for the answer.

Dark eyes glittered above his face. "I dare say," came the languid drawl he loved. Harry's hands wound around Snape's bare waist. "You know I love you?"

Lips lowered to his, just a gentle brush. "You poured your heart out to me, defended me."

"Don't forget let you fuck me senseless," Harry added, his heart light.

"There's always that," Snape agreed.

Harry sighed in perfect contentment, feeling Severus shift beside him in the small bed. What had been roomy for Harry and the snake was a bit tight for two full grown men.

"Bugger!" Snape said suddenly. Harry felt something moving against his skin, heard rustling, and then felt the sudden loss of a warm body beside him. The snake slithered onto his chest and wrapped its coils around itself, head on top.

Harry sighed. "Okay," he said petting the tip of the triangular black head. "But I want an extra-long cuddle tomorrow night."

"Good night, Harry," the snake hissed softly.

"Good night, Snape."

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