a Valentine's present for Frek in the HP Valentine Smut 2004 Challenge

Notes: This story was inspired and is based on Nick Joaquin's brilliant "May Day Eve" which has spawned operas, poems, and stories since it was conceived. Why not an HP slashfic of the rather sexy variety to add to its children? This story features a few lines from the original May Day Eve, but the plot is completely different.

Thanks: This fic was beta-read by Granuaile to whom I'll be eternally grateful for editing out the words that would have made me *facepalm* a lot.

~*~

Harry entered the room, feeling refreshed after his late afternoon shower. Hermione and Ginny, were chatting with Mrs. Weasley in the homey little kitchen in The Burrow. The sky wasn�t completely dark even though it was past six�a sign that summer was indeed very near. Ron had suggested that they end their Quidditch playing a bit earlier than usual in favor of some hot chocolate with the girls. Sure enough, the scent of the warm drink wafted through the air as Harry took a seat beside Hermione.

�Where�s Ron?� Ginny asked before taking a sip from her cup.

�Still in the shower,� Harry answered. He smiled gratefully at Mrs. Weasley as she poured him some hot chocolate and magically moved his mug in front of him.

�I was about to tell Hermione and Ginny about an interesting Muggle legend I had learned from Arthur a short time ago,� Mrs. Weasley started. �He told me that one old wizard had died and he bequeathed his whole library to the Ministry. He turned out to be quite a Muggle literature enthusiast and the scribes in Arthur�s department are beside themselves with joy�poring over the wealth of books while pretending to check for any illegal charms.�

�And was Mr. Weasley able to read some of them?� Hermione asked.

�Yes,� Mrs. Weasley nodded. �One story in particular piqued his interest. It was a Muggle legend that had something to do with Magic�charms to be exact, with a little bit of divination too. I doubt if you two are familiar with it,� she said, glancing at Hermione and Harry, �as it comes from the Far East. It�s about seeing your future beloved with the aid of a mirror under certain conditions.�

�Oh do tell us about it, Mum!� Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

With such an eager audience before her, Mrs. Weasley had no choice but to acquiesce and thus told her tale with relish, �They say that the eve of May is a magical night�a night when fairies come out to join the world of the living. For many Muggles, it was also a favorable night to celebrate, that�s why many parties have been held at this specific day. Perhaps they imagined that they danced along with fairies to the music.

�But it was also a night for romance, and the ancients say that a mirror could show more than one�s reflection on a certain time of the night. Just before the clock strikes midnight, one must stand in front of the mirror, alone in the room, with only a single candle to provide light and say the following words: �Mirror, mirror, show to me him whose lover I will be.�� She paused dramatically.

�And then�?� Hermione asked, gripping her mug tightly. �Shall we see him?�

�Yes. But there is a risk. You shall see either your intended, or the Devil!�

Eleven-year-old Ginny shrieked. �I don�t want to see the Devil!� she said indignantly.

�But dear,� Mrs. Weasley said, wagging a finger. �All magic, even the silly ones, come with their own risks.�

�I think that�s a silly legend!� piped up Ron, who had entered the kitchen without them noticing. �They probably made it up for silly young girls who have nothing to do but talk about those things.�

�It�s not silly at all!� Ginny retorted hotly. �You�re just saying that because, knowing you, you�ll probably see You-Know-Who instead of a girl!�

�Now, children, settle down,� Mrs. Weasley ordered. �I don�t want any fighting in my kitchen. Ron, the story was meant to be historic and it does show the beliefs of a people at a certain point in time. Hermione, dear, would you mind passing the honey? I think I hear Arthur coming and he always wants his chocolate extra sweet.�

Harry, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, had promptly forgotten about the conversation and the legend as soon as they started discussing the merits of honey against refined sugar.

~*~

There was no reason why he should remember that legend now, nearly four years later, aside from the fact that it was the last night of April and Harry couldn�t sleep no matter how he tried. He checked his bedside clock and saw that it was half an hour before midnight. As sleep still eluded him, he jumped out of bed, intending to take a walk to clear his mind.

He lit a candle with his wand, pulled his robe around his pajama-clad form, and stepped out of Gryffindor Tower. As he walked through the halls, Mrs. Weasley�s strange tale played in his mind. Why shouldn�t he try it? There was no one here to see him, no matter how silly he may look. Besides, where was the harm in engaging in a little fun? He had seen Voldemort face to face and he doubted if the Devil could be more terrifying than the Dark Lord.

Now where could he find a mirror within minutes?

He ran through the corridor, his bare feet silent on the stones, looking for a room, any room, which might serve his purpose. He was beneath the ground floor�where most of the rooms were locked and deserted�and he only hoped to fulfill his task now that he had set his mind to it. From the corner of his eye, he spied a door that was ajar and rushed in quickly, hoping to see a mirror or any reflective piece inside. Much to Harry�s delight, the dimly lit room did have a mirror. It was a simple wood-framed affair that looked very old, but it was exactly what he needed.

He walked nearer slowly, almost nervously. His face emerged on the silver glass as he held the candle higher, illuminating the green eyes behind his glasses. The air behind him seemed dark, darker than he had first thought. It�s only the mirror playing tricks. Harry nervously closed his eyes.

�Mirror, mirror, show to me him whose lover I will be.�

Him? He had not stopped to think and had only recited the line from memory. A distant clock chimed twelve times, but Harry could barely hear the sound that announced the arrival of midnight. It was May. He opened his eyes in anticipation.

They instantly widened in fear as he beheld the image before him. Harry swung around, mute with surprise.

�How convenient,� Severus Snape drawled as he watched Harry cower before him. �I leave for few minutes to check something in my office only to find Harry Potter here inside my room � uninvited.�

Shit! Harry thought. That bloody legend did turn out to be true; he did see the Devil!

�I�m sorry, Professor. I was merely looking for a mirror and chanced upon this room. I didn�t know it was yours.� He made a move to leave but Snape blocked his path.

�A mirror?� The Potions Professor chuckled. In the dim light, Harry couldn�t help but notice that Snape looked very different from the way he perceived him during the day. The planes in his face seemed to soften and his long, unbound hair only served to make him look � sexier? Horrified, he tried to push these thoughts from his mind.

�Potter, I didn�t know you believed in such feminine legends,� Snape continued.

Harry flushed with embarrassment. And he thought he could actually do this in private. �What I do is my business.�

�Ah, but you are in my quarters.� A dark eyebrow rose in amusement.

�A situation I would only be too glad to resolve,� Harry answered. He made another attempt to walk to the door but that darned git stepped right in front of him.

�In what way?� Snape asked. He stared hard at Harry, the smile gone from his lips. �It would be such a pity to let the prophecy go to waste, wouldn�t it?�

�What prophecy?� Harry asked, confused.

Snape waved to the mirror�s direction. �That prophecy.� He took another step towards Harry, making the boy back up a bit. �Why so nervous? Wasn�t this what you wanted to find out?�

�I � I don�t understand,� Harry cried, feeling slightly panicky as he beheld the look in Snape�s eyes.

�I heard every word you said, Potter.�

Then it sank in. Snape had heard him say the spell, and Harry burned with the realization that his Potions Professor was probably laughing at him privately. Of course, he would know about that legend. He probably thought The Boy Who Lived was now one big joke.

�I better leave,� Harry muttered. He looked down, feeling smaller than he had ever felt in his whole life, and shuffled toward the door. He was completely and utterly surprised to feel a hand on his cheek, even more so knowing that it could only belong to one person.

�But why?� Snape asked softly. �I don�t want you to go yet.�

The long fingers traveled to Harry�s chin, before gently caressing his hair. The Gryffindor held his breath, rooted to the spot. He was very much aware of everything that his Professor was doing, and though he never thought of it as possible before, the young man found that, strangely, he quite liked it. He closed his eyes, not knowing what to do, yet loving the feel of the other�s hands on his skin.

�Would you mind,� Snape began coolly, �spending the night in my rooms?�

Harry�s eyes flew open at the bold suggestion. He stared at Snape in shock, not quite believing that it was him who had said those words. �Wha ... what?�

�You heard me.�

Did he want to leave? Harry opened his mouth, meaning to answer, but no sound came out. At the same time, Snape�s wayward fingers traveled to the hollow of his neck, nimbly unclasping his robe. While Harry was still too shocked to respond, Snape ran his hands over the top of the boy�s chest, massaging the soft, warm flesh.

�Perhaps this might help you make your decision.� His face was still unreadable, especially in the dim light of the room.

Harry dropped the candle, extinguishing the small flame, leaving only the moonlight from the high open windows to serve as their source of light.

Snape chuckled at his reaction. The fingers lightly brushed the hardened nubs of the boy�s nipples, making him blush in the darkness. �I�ll take that as a yes.� To top it all off, he bent down and kissed Harry full in the mouth.

Never in his life had Harry felt so exposed, standing there at his Professor�s room in the middle of the night. His chest was naked, and only his thin, cotton pajamas bottoms covered the rest of his body. But he didn�t feel any shame, or perhaps, there was merely no time to feel embarrassed. Snape had pulled him nearer the bed, kissing him teasingly all the way, though Harry didn�t even realize that they had moved. He was lost in the sensation of their kiss, and he awkwardly groped the front of Snape�s robes, wanting to feel as much as he gave.

To help Harry further, Snape hurriedly took his own robe off, spurred on by the sight of a gasping and flushed Harry who was gazing at him with lidded eyes, sleepy with want. The desire he felt earlier for the boy flamed even more as he imagined all the things he wanted to do to him, now and later, knowing that he was his for tonight. His body freed by the constraints of his clothes, he guided Harry to the bed.

Harry was floating. No, he was dreaming. He faintly remembered standing by the mirror, being berated by Snape before everything wonderful happened. And now he was here, on the bed, lying in the arms of his Professor with the hard, wiry body over his own�being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Hands were tugging his pajamas down, and Harry obediently lifted his hips, kicking the fabric off his naked legs as the late spring air cool the heated skin of his groin.

Snape looked down at Harry, stopping his sensual assault for a few moments as he let Harry catch his breath. �Are you all right?� he asked.

Surprised at the question, Harry nodded. He couldn�t help but feel a little touched; how like him to feel sentimental in the middle of foreplay. He clasped his arms around Snape and pulled him down, biting his left shoulder gently, yet hard enough to leave marks. Harry felt the professor�s erection against his thigh, marveling at the sheer size of it. He suddenly wondered how it would feel to have it�have Snape�in him. His own cock hardened at the thought, and he rubbed his leg over Snape�s, wanting him to continue.

Smiling at Harry�s eagerness, Snape took a deep breath as he tried to control himself from just flipping Harry over and burying himself in his delectable behind. If he read the signs correctly, Harry had never done something like this before, and a virgin deserved more respect than a quick shag in the back. He took Harry�s cock in one hand and started pumping, giving the boy a hand job that sent him gasping for more as he thrashed on the covers. Moving down, Snape took the damp shaft in his mouth, moving his lips over its silky length. He licked the slit on the tip, tasting the precome that had leaked out, feeling Harry�s hips shudder beneath his hands, showing that the boy was close to coming.

He reached for his bedside drawer and pulled it open, extracting the bottle of lubricant he kept there for emergencies such as this one. He slathered a generous amount on his own aching member as he murmured soft words of sweet nothings to his lover. Sliding one lubed finger into Harry�s entrance, Snape allowed him to relax, to feel comfortable with him before he fully slid himself inside Harry.

Lifting the boy�s hips slightly, Snape moved Harry�s leg to rest on his shoulder, leaving him open and ready. Harry whimpered as Snape massaged his bottom. He wanted him now, and he could hardly contain his excitement at the thought of feeling Snape in him�filling him as he�d always imagined in his dreams that left him sweaty and bewildered during mornings.

He was ready. Slowly, carefully, Snape entered Harry, gently probing the boy�s virgin ass with his length. Harry mewled at the slight pain, but comforting words from Snape soothed him and allowed him to relax enough to let the whole of Snape�s length into his body.

Snape could feel the sweat drop from his forehead. The control he exerted over his passions was starting to disappear, and Harry�s desirable little body wasn�t helping. He started moving, thrusting, slowly at first, before going faster�making Harry yelp with each pump of his hips. They rocked on the bed, and he lost himself in Harry�his scent, his body, his cries. Their voices met in the air with their breaths as he finally came, taking Harry with him as he squeezed the boy�s cock gently, digging further with one last, furious push as his body shuddered with his orgasm.

He collapsed beside Harry, lying spread-eagled as they both panted in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He let his breathing slow as he gazed at the ceiling, wondering at the strange fate that led Harry inside his room, just when he had been thinking of him all day. Minutes later, Harry scuttled closer, putting one arm around Snape.

�I�m all sticky.�

Amused, Snape glanced at him. �You won�t be later.� He smiled impishly and proceeded to lick him off, inch by inch, and Harry finally thought that no!�he wouldn�t mind spending the night in this room.

To the far right, unnoticed by the lovers entwined on the large bed, the mirror twinkled slightly�a naughty little spark from the moon that announced the birth of May.

FIN

(February 2004)