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An Unexpected Cure for Holiday Boredom

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What did a man do when bored and alone? He wanked, of course. And that was precisely what Harry was doing at the moment.

Today was Christmas Eve, but due to the various work schedules and commitments of his children and friends, Harry wouldn’t be celebrating Christmas with everyone at the Burrow until Boxing Day. He, in comparison, was by no means busy. Since Ginny’s untimely passing and his subsequent retirement as Head of the Auror Department, he had too much time on his hands, it seemed.

By wizarding standards, Harry was still quite young. This summer, he’d turned sixty and, in Muggle years, he looked forty. But Harry didn’t feel forty. He didn’t even feel his age. Mentally, he felt ancient.

The kids often encouraged Harry to get out of the house and meet new people, but Harry wasn’t the dating sort. He’d already let numerous friends and family members set him up on blind dates, most of which wound up being front-page disasters.

Harry sighed. The thought of past love interests brought Draco Malfoy to mind. He could clearly imagine Draco’s smirking lips and lithe body in his tailored robes. Out of everyone he knew, Draco was the one person Harry would have risked courting seriously. He’d developed an attraction and close friendship with Draco over the years, but the timing of their availability never aligned. Draco started dating someone two years ago—the same year Ginny died—and was now engaged. Not wanting to think about it further, he opened his eyes.

Cock still in hand, Harry inhaled and exhaled a long breath, smelling the lingering scent of his dinner of eggplant pomodoro. He then glanced around the living room.

In front of a large picture window, a Christmas tree, decorated within an inch of its life, guarded a pile of gifts. There were so many wrapped packages at the base of the tree that Harry had shrunk a majority of them so they wouldn’t be a tripping hazard. From the corner between him and the window, holiday music played softly on the WWN. His gaze ended on the crackling fireplace in front of him. Photos, keepsakes, and evergreen garlands decorated the shelves on either side of it.

Harry shut his eyes once more, actively working his length. He refused to let his mood spoil things.

A new figure with long legs, strong hands with neatly trimmed but stained nails, and burning black eyes popped into Harry’s head: Severus Snape. Harry had never thought of Snape in such a way, but he decided to go with it.

Snape poked his red tongue out between his thin lips and teased the tip of Harry’s cock. He also fondled Harry’s balls, lightly at first, then more firmly.

Harry gasped, clear liquid gushing from his dick.

Snape moaned as he lapped up Harry’s pre-cum, slipping his tongue between Harry’s foreskin and glans.

You always have to be the star, to be waited on hand and foot. Can’t even be bothered to clean up the mess you’re making. You like this, me on my knees, don’t you, Potter?”

“Yes,” Harry said throatily into the empty room, pumping his cock faster.

You want to shoot your load down my throat. You want me to beg for it or…is it you wanting to beg me?”

Pleasure contorted Harry’s face. He was so close. “Please…Snape…please…”

Please what, Potter. If you require something from me, I’ll need more than nonsensical utterances. Be. Specific.”

Please let me…let me come on your face, Harry answered silently in his head.

Picturing Snape’s face covered in his cum did it. Harry cried out. As the first rope of his climax erupted from his cock, he heard a whoosh. He cursed and opened his eyes, catching sight of green flames. Fuck! How was what he saw possible? Harry knew for a fact he’d blocked his Floo Network connection to incoming calls before he dropped his drawers—he wasn’t an idiot.

As another blissful pulse rolled through Harry’s body, his fireplace spat out a wizard with such force that he landed on his hands and knees. When the wizard looked up and caught sight of Harry writhing in his chair and painting the floor with his cum, his mouth fell open.

All Harry could do was stare and question his eyesight as he rode out the rest of his orgasm: Kneeling before him was the very wizard of his current fantasy. Except, this wasn’t the war-ravaged Snape he remembered; this Snape was much younger, in his late teens or early twenties.

Snape’s face twisted into a sneer. “This is low even for you, Potter.” He stood, flicking his wand to remove the ash from his school robes—fuck, he was wearing school robes. “It’s your last day at Hogwarts; I would think you’d be celebrating finishing with the rest of your knobheads.”

Panting, Harry continued to gawk at Snape. Was this real? If this was real, Snape must think he was his dad. Harry blanched. Oh shit! Snape thought he was his dad!

Snape tilted his head to the side in thought. “Although, I don’t understand the point of the Ageing Potion nor the holiday-themed décor.” His eyes flickered to Harry’s cock, then roved over his bare abs, chest, and legs. He gave Harry a contemptuous smile. “I am surprised to see that not everything you’ve boasted about is a lie.”

Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment and, to be honest, a bit of pride. He still exercised almost daily, though he did it more out of habit than anything else.

Enough of this.

From the side table next to him, Harry grabbed his wand. “Tergeo.”

Once Harry had Vanished all the fruits of his debauchery, he hurriedly tucked himself back into his trunks and said, “I’m not who you think I am; I’m not James Potter.”

Snape rolled his eyes and turned around. “I don’t have time for this.” He looked at the shelves, probably searching for the Floo powder. Snape’s head cocked to the side when, on one shelf, he spotted the individual photographs of Harry’s children when they were younger. Engraved at the bottom of each silver frame was their name: James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna.

Snape snatched Al’s photo with his left hand and whirled around. He took a few threatening steps forwards. “What is this?” Snape hissed, showing Harry the photo and tapping it with his wand. “Albus Severus. Why must you mock me with what I’ll never have?” he asked with barely suppressed rage.

Harry aimed his wand at Snape, years of Auror training not letting him do otherwise. Since Snape left school, he was of age and could curse him at will.

“It’s not what you think.” That he was actually speaking to Snape, and a young Snape at that, Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to think,” he muttered. Harry then pointed at the shelf where Al’s picture had been displayed. “Wait… Look at the photo, two over. There’s a picture of my family. You won’t find Lily; you’ll find me with my wife Ginny.”

“Ginny,” Snape scoffed. Keeping his eyes on Harry, he moved sideways like a gangly spider back to the shelf.

Snape set down the picture of Al and picked up the family photo Harry had spoken about.

“The photo was taken many Christmases ago when all the kids were still attending Hogwarts,” Harry explained, wistfulness creeping into his voice. For a short moment, he recollected the scene in the picture: Him giving Ginny a peck on the cheek and a promise of what they’d be doing later. Her giggling in response. James, Al, and Lily beaming with ribbons and bows from opened gifts on their heads. Peppermint-flavoured sweets from a knocked-over box of Will-O'-Wisp glowing and floating around them. Harry knew the joy on their faces shone from the photo and was almost a palpable thing. It all seemed like a world away from what his life was now.

Coming back to the present, Harry smiled. “Most of the other pictures you can see are of their children, my grandchildren.”

Snape returned the framed photograph to its place. With a frown, he faced Harry. “Who are you?” he asked, stressing every word.

“My name’s Harry Potter; I’m James’ son.” Harry looked at Snape pointedly. “You, Severus Snape, have somehow travelled to the future.”

Snape gulped, then narrowed his eyes. “You are lying. This is just another one of your pranks.” His eyes darted around the room. “Just another prank,” he said more softly.

Snarling, Snape turned around. When he tossed aside the lid of a metal canister on another shelf, Harry jumped to his feet. Snape plunged his hand into the container and pulled out a handful of Floo powder, nearly bumping it off. Harry was already racing forwards when Snape threw the powder into the fireplace.

“Hogwarts!” Snape mockingly smiled as the green flames engulfed his body.

Harry stared into the once again ordinarily blazing fire. “Well…that was interesting.” He sighed. He would need to follow Snape, or else Minerva would give him an earful. But first, he needed to get some clothes on.


Something all arms and legs exploded out of the fireplace and directly into Harry. He flew backwards and then crashed onto the floor. Next, he registered that a pile of black robes was squirming on top of him. The violent entrance of whatever was on him had upended the container of Floo powder, and glittery specks drifted in the air all around them.

Gasping in a breath, Harry soon realised the squirming pile on him was Snape—a young, virile Snape…lying on his nearly naked body…straddling his thighs…rubbing their groins together. As he stared at Snape’s face, partially hidden by his shoulder-length hair, Harry felt his cock start to harden—and so soon after just coming too. Fucking Merlin, this couldn’t be happening. He wrapped his left hand around Snape’s bicep, which was surprisingly well-muscled, and pushed.

Taking the hint, Snape moved, but he only created more friction. Mortifyingly, a small moan slipped from Harry’s lips.

Snape paused and glowered down at Harry through strands of his hair. “If what you said is true and I am in the future, you’re nothing but a nasty old codger, Harry Potter. Does your wife know you get randy-arsed for younger men?”

“My wife’s dead.” Harry pushed his glasses back into place. “And she knew early on that I fancied both men and women.”

“Oh…” Snape said awkwardly, all his built-up outrage deflating. “I’m sor—”

“No. You never have to apologise to me.” Harry smiled softly. Snape’s hair tickled his face, so without much thought, he tucked it behind Snape’s ears.

With an unobstructed view, Harry watched as Snape’s flawless, pale skin turned a soft shade of pink. Snape looked…cute, a word Harry never thought he’d ever use to describe the man.

Snape met Harry’s gaze and frowned in confusion. “Why don’t I have to apolo—” His expression transformed into one of shock. “You…You have her eyes…Lily’s eyes.”

Harry chuckled. “So I’ve been told—many times. She was my mum.”

At Harry’s words, a forlorn expression pasted itself on Snape’s face. “Your mum…” Then he gasped with dawning horror. “Was.”

“Come on.” Harry sat up with a grunt. “We need to figure out how you’re here so you can be sent back.”

“But…you need to tell me. How did she die? If she died due to an illness, perhaps—”

“She didn’t die from an illness. She died”—Harry considered how much he should tell Snape—“she died protecting someone only she could save.”

Snape glared at him. “She saved your father, didn’t she?”

Harry shook his head sadly. “No. He died first protecting her.”

Pressing his lips together, Snape furrowed his brow in thought.

“I’ve said enough. Come on. We need to get you sorted, and I need to put on some trousers.”

Realising one of his hands rested on Harry’s chest, Snape yanked it away as if he’d accidentally set it on a hot hob. He blushed and awkwardly removed himself from Harry’s lap.

Harry rose to his feet. He waved his wand, and all the Floo powder returned into its container and back onto its shelf. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m still full from the end-of-year feast.”

“How about some tea? I know I could use a cup.”

Snape hesitated for a moment before saying, “Tea would be fine.”

Snape’s shyness made Harry’s heart flutter. There was something more real about this Snape, something less guarded. “Great.” Harry gave Snape a small, friendly smile. “Follow me.”

Side by side, they left the living room and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“Is this it?” Snape asked.

“Is what it?”

“This.” Snape waved his arms at the modest flat. “A can of slugs has more space. Even my house has more space than this. Did you gamble away your family’s fortune on Quidditch matches?”

Harry chuckled. “Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I decided to move out of the family home after Ginny passed. My daughter Lily and her family moved in since James and his brood had already claimed Grimmauld Place, the Black family’s ancestral home. Ginny and I offered the house to Al when he married Scorpius Malfoy soon after finishing school, but he preferred moving into Malfoy Manor.”

Harry walked to the cooker to retrieve a kettle and then to the sink for water. “I like the size of my flat. It’s easier to look after. And really, it’s all I need. When there is a big gathering here, it’s as simple as casting a temporary Extension Charm for more space.”

Snape eyed Harry with scepticism. “Even a temporary Extension Charm would require an enormous amount of raw magic.”

Harry smiled crookedly and shrugged. Returning to the cooker, he turned a knob. The resulting loud click caused Severus to jerk.

“You can take a seat if you like,” Harry suggested, gesturing at a small two-person table next to a window.

Snape nodded. With his long gait, it only took him four steps to reach the table. He glanced outside but, merely seeing darkness and a smattering of stars, soon sat down. Snape, of course, chose the chair that would allow him to watch Harry move about in the kitchen.

“The first time, what were you doing before you found yourself here?” Harry asked, placing biscuits on a plate.

“I was on my way to the boat dock for the Leaving Ceremony.”

“Hmmm, do you recall anything odd, anything out of the ordinary?”

Snape thought for a moment. “I didn’t want to run into your father or Black”—he mentioned the two wizards with utter disdain—“so I made it a point to arrive later. To keep busy, I read in the library but, in doing so, lost track of time.” He grimaced. “Later turned into late. I knew the only way I wouldn’t miss the boat crossing with my housemates was if I sprinted the whole way.

“While on the stairs leading down to the dock, I had to stop to catch my breath. Unlike some people”—Snape stared at Harry’s physique and raised his eyebrows—“I’m not exactly an athlete.”

Harry smiled and laughed. “That’s the first time you’ve ever been self-deprecating in front of me.” He regarded Snape with astonishment. “You actually have a sense of humour.”

Snape cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’ve been told my humour tends to be on the dry side.”

“So we can confirm that you’re British, then.”

Snape cracked a smile. “Indeed.” He gave Harry a sly look. “Mr Potter…do you want our banter to continue or my retelling?”

Harry felt his heart skip a beat and spun around. Opening the nearest drawer, he pretended to search for something. Was Snape flirting with him? It sure sounded like he was. Merlin, what should he do? The answer was, of course, nothing. Absolutely nothing. But Snape’s smooth voice calling him Mr Potter had made direct contact with his cock. With only his trunks on, things would have gotten awkward fast if he hadn’t turned around when he did.

Ensuring his member was out of sight, Harry glanced over his shoulder at Snape. “Sorry…”—should he? why not? it wasn’t like he had to worry about getting detentions—“Severus, please continue.”

Severus Snape, now just Severus, didn’t chastise Harry for being so familiar. He did unconsciously lick his lips, which appeared plumper and were turning a deep shade of red. Harry had to hold back a smile; he wasn’t the only one affected.

“As I was saying,” Severus drawled after a short pause, “I stopped to catch my breath. Then I placed my hands on the rock wall next to me, and they became stuck.”


“Yes. At first, I thought I’d failed at avoiding Potter and his hooligans, that somehow the dunderhead brigade had struck again. But then I felt a pull, and the wall swallowed my hands, arms, and so on. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled out on your living room floor, watching you unabashedly climax in front of me.” Severus shrugged and impishly smiled.

Before Harry could say a word, a loud whistle pierced the air. Hurrying to turn off the cooker, he removed the kettle. As Harry poured water into a teapot, the tea leaves inside swirled to the top, filling the air with the calming scent of chamomile and lavender. Unfortunately, the smell did little to relax him and alleviate the discomfort he felt in his pants.

Harry swished his wand, and all the accoutrements for tea floated onto the small kitchen table. Desperate to hide his predicament, he grabbed a tea towel hanging off the handle of the oven door.

As Harry casually held the towel in front of his groin, he said, “Well, I’m going to put on some trousers while the tea steeps.”

Severus’s lips twitched. He opened his mouth to say something, but Harry rushed off before he could hear one snarky word.

In his bedroom, Harry pulled out the first pair of trousers he found in his chest of drawers. The material was made of green silk and cool to the touch. Holding the waistband, he let gravity unfurl them and soon remembered they were Al’s gift to him three or four Christmases ago. The trousers were the bottoms of a matching pyjama set, which had been more a gag gift than anything else. Harry knew keeping old house rivalries was silly, but he still refrained from wearing Slytherin colours and preferred red and gold, as Al well knew.

Once he’d slipped them on, Harry looked down at himself and snorted. The trousers hung lower than he was used to, showing off a good portion of the deep V of his abs. At least he fitted the occasion. Out in his kitchen sat Severus Snape, the past wizard—or was it future—either way, the wizard who was now synonymous with the snake-loving house. Harry slid his hands over the smooth fabric. Would Severus like them? He shut his eyes and sighed. What was he doing asking himself such a question? Okay, he was thinking about playing with fire, worse than fire: Severus fucking Snape. If things went belly-up, Harry wouldn’t just wind up being cooked; he’d be served up with a side of chips. No way could he underestimate Severus, even if he was younger. The best course of action would be to forget this newfound attraction. Harry would help Severus return to his time and then carry on as he always had.

With this resolve, Harry marched back into the kitchen, thankful his erection had finally subsided. Sitting down at the table, he ignored Severus’ knowing smirk and began to serve tea.

“Mr Potter, do you know me well?” Severus asked. “You act as though you do. You’ve even named one of your children after me.” He took a sip of his plain tea.


“I uh…” Harry needed to stick with the truth but be as vague as possible. Picking up his own cuppa, he cleared his throat. “Yes, you’re a very influential figure in my life.”

“Am I a father figure of some sort?”

Harry choked on a laugh. “Not exactly.” A warm smile brightened Harry’s face. “But you were one of the bravest men I’ve ever known.”

Severus’s brows lifted. “Known? As in past tense?”

Shit! Change the subject! Change the fucking subject! “Uh… So, you’ve graduated. What are your plans?”

Severus’ eyes gleamed with amusement. “I plan to travel and study. I thirst for knowledge, and my focus will be…the Dark Arts.”

Harry was surprised Severus didn’t mention pursuing a career in potion-making; however, he wasn’t surprised Severus had attempted to rile him up by speaking about the Dark Arts. Now older and wiser, he didn’t take the bait. Instead, Harry nodded in understanding and smiled. “I don’t doubt the knowledge you’ll learn, particularly with regards to counter-curses, will help many.”

A nonplussed expression appeared on Severus’ face.

“I know you’re not aware of it, but you’re talking to the former Head of the Auror Department.” Severus somehow managed to become even paler. “Have you considered joining the DMLE? You’d make a brilliant Auror.”

As Severus took a sip of his tea, he nearly spat it out. “Me, an Auror? Not bloody likely.”

Harry snickered. “Why not? You’ve the potential to be an exceptional duellist. Also, you’re very logical and, when it counts, incredibly brave at heart.

Severus turned bright red at Harry’s complimentary words. “I am not brave. I think you’re confusing me with the livestock that stinks up Gryffindor Tower.”

Smiling, Harry shook his head. “If you say so.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late, and I need to post a letter. I’m no expert in time travel, but Hermione will know something; she’s brilliant and one of my best friends. I wish I could use Floo powder to call her now, but she’s visiting with Muggle relatives on the continent. If Ida, my owl, leaves tonight, Hermione should receive my letter by tomorrow morning.”

Severus looked at the magical calendar hanging next to the pantry door on the opposite wall. The golden ‘24’ sparkled in its box, and a large moving illustration above the days of the week showed Father Christmas with a small army of house-elves readying a sleigh.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Severus stated matter-of-factly. “Why not wait until after the holiday to pester your friend? Who knows, whatever force brought me here might straighten things out before then, and you won’t have to bother her at all. And it’s not as if the world will come to an end if I stay put here.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Why are you trying to postpone things?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, and a smile played across Harry’s lips at the sight of it.

“Mr Potter, I’ve the opportunity to learn about the future—my future. I’m not about to toss the chance in the bin, prematurely.”

To give himself some time to think, Harry ate a biscuit. Severus had made several good points. Another point to consider, albeit a selfish one, would be he’d have someone to celebrate Christmas Day with. “Okay, I’ll wait until tomorrow. But if you’re going to stay in my home, I insist you call me Harry.”

Severus grinned. “That…would be agreeable…Harry.”

Harry shivered at the velvety sound of Severus’ voice and felt his nipples become erect. “Would you care for another cuppa?”

“No thank you. But I could use the location of your toilet.”

“Oh, right.” Harry pointed over Severus’ right shoulder. “Go around the corner to the left. It’ll be the second door.”

Severus stood and gave a polite bob of his head before he turned and left.

Harry sighed. He cleaned up the kitchen with a few flicks of his wand, then stared ahead as he waited. Harry groaned and placed his head in his hands. What was he doing? He was acting like a lovesick teenager—and for a man who could be his grandson

Harry continued to berate himself until he felt a warm hand fall on his bare left shoulder. He jumped in surprise and gasped.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Severus asked, looking so damn young in his Hogwarts uniform. “You were holding your head. Is it bothering you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Harry attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but Severus didn’t look convinced. “Really, I am. The tea did its job, and I’m beginning to feel a bit drowsy is all. Ummm…” Harry was at a loss for what to say next. He couldn’t very well tell Severus he suffered from a moral dilemma.

“Actually…” Severus drawled, “I’m feeling tired myself. I shouldn’t, considering the time of day I left, but perhaps time travel takes its toll.”

Harry stood and started towards the bedroom. “You can borrow a pair of pyjamas from my wardrobe, if you want. I can sleep on the living room sofa for tonight.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Severus said, following him. “Can your bed fit two people?”


“Then it’s settled. We can both be comfortable. Bearing in mind your age, I’d feel simply terrible if tomorrow your back gave out because you’d stubbornly decided to sleep on the sofa.”

Harry snorted at Severus’ cheek. To show him, he stretched his arms and yawned, bringing out the definition of his muscles.

Severus turned red-faced and narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I’m going to get ready for bed”—Severus’ face flushed even more—“but in the meantime, you can read something from the bookcase in my bedroom, nothing that might change the fabric of time, mind you. I usually read a little before bed, myself.” Harry opened the door to his bedroom. Then, with a slight swagger in his step, he walked towards the adjoining bathroom.

Harry wondered if Severus was staring at his bum. He stopped and looked. And, indeed, Severus was. Entering the bathroom, Harry couldn’t help but grin.

Quickly, and then not so quickly so he wouldn’t appear desperate, Harry completed his nightly routine. After a few moments of self-argument, he took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

Severus, in only a pair of black, silken boxers, sat on top of the duvet. His body was lithe but corded with muscle, and his skin seemed to glow in the candlelight. Harry couldn’t see his face because he was looking down at a book and hair blocked the view. Severus read Navigating and Conquering the Mind, a book that introduced the principles of Legilimency and Occlumency.

“Are you wanting to read my mind?” Harry asked, striding closer.

“Since you are the one that owns this book”—Severus looked up, and his heated stare penetrated straight through Harry’s gut—“I’m guessing you know exactly what’s been on my mind.”

Harry chuckled—now he could laugh—recalling the nightmare that had been his Occlumency lessons with Severus. Still, many years later, he was rubbish at it.

“I do,” Harry said, channelling Trelawney’s all-seeing voice. “I know what’s been on your mind…and yes, finally—the bathroom’s open.” He returned to speaking like usual. “Extra toiletries are in the cupboard inside.”

Severus rolled his eyes and mumbled about hopeless idiots. He set the book down on the duvet, keeping it open, and moved off the bed. He didn’t even bother to hide the tent in his pants.

Harry rushed to the opposite side of the bed as Severus made his way towards the bathroom. He climbed under the covers and sighed in relief when Severus shut the door.

Reaching for his latest book on a bedside table, Harry paused. Maybe he should just go to sleep or, at the very least, feign it. It would nip any temptation in the bud, and right now, he was incredibly tempted.

Harry darted a glance and the bathroom door, then extinguished all the candles except for one. He quickly set his wand, along with his glasses and watch, next to his book. As his eyes adjusted, Harry watched as different shades of black recreated the shape of the room. He turned his attention to the thin line of light underneath the bathroom door, which only sparked more lustful imaginings. Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Severus exited the bathroom. Harry heard a soft, deep chuckle and gritted his teeth when his cock instantly responded to the sexy sound. Severus’ steps were as silent as a cat’s, and Harry started when the duvet rose and cool air brushed his body.

Once Severus joined him under the covers, Harry wondered if he would continue to read. His question was answered a few seconds later when Severus blew a strong puff of air and the last candle went out.

For what seemed like hours, Harry listened to Severus’ even breaths, hoping they would lull him to sleep. However, the sound of them made him want to speed them up, want to hear them being gasped and moaned.

Severus shifted. Harry’s breath caught when he felt Severus’ stiff length nestle against his arse crack. Fuck! He couldn’t stop his train of thought: Severus wanted him. Harry deliberately pushed his bum against Severus’ erection, relishing the gorgeous feel of it.

“So I take it you’re not really asleep either.”

“Fuck!” Harry shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin. Feeling mortified, he flipped over to face him.

Severus’ body began to shake. At first, Harry was concerned—that was until he realised Severus was quietly laughing his arse off.

“You’re a git,” Harry muttered. A second later, he hissed when long, deft fingers slipped into his pants and began stroking his cock. “Uhhnnn…Severus…I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea: one of my best, actually.” With little skill but a lot of passion, Severus pressed his lips against Harry’s. Harry moaned, knowing he was done for.

As they continued to snog, Harry patted his hand around for his wand. Once his fingers were around it, he cast a nonverbal spell to relight the candles on the bedside tables. Breaking their kiss, Harry pulled back to get a look at Severus’ face. He was beautiful: His lips were deep red, contrasting with his lovely skin. His cheeks were flushed, and desire filled his dark eyes. Harry tilted Severus’s head to the side and spotted a beauty mark high up on Severus’ neck. He kissed it.

“Have you ever…” Harry asked.

“No,” Severus answered softly.

The thought of being Severus’ first made Harry’s cock ache with want. “Would you like to? I prefer to bottom, but I’d be open to whatever you’d like.”

Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “You’d let me bugger you?”

“It’s not about letting you; it’s about wanting it, wanting you. Knowing that I’d be the first to give you that pleasure excites me greatly…as I’m sure you can feel.” Harry rubbed his rock-hard length against Severus’.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Severus gritted his teeth and clutched Harry’s hip to stop his movements. “I’m too aroused.” He looked embarrassed. “I wouldn’t last but a few seconds inside you.”

Harry felt pre-cum soak his trunks. “After you orgasm, how long does it take you to get hard again?”

Severus turned red. “Mmm…about five minutes.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed with merriment. “Ah…youth.” He moved aside the covers and straddled Severus’ thighs, careful not to touch his erection. Gliding his hands across Severus’ shoulders, he kissed his forehead, then lips. As Harry brushed his nose along Severus’ jaw, he took a deep breath of his scent and smiled; Severus smelt like minty toothpaste and the sandalwood bar of soap next to the bathroom basin.

The rhythm of Severus’ chest rising and falling quickened. Severus writhed and gasped when Harry latched onto his neck, sucking hard and leaving a vivid love bite. Harry then nibbled, sucked, and soothed his way down Severus’ chest and stomach.

When he reached Severus’ pants, Harry licked his lips. The head of Severus’ cock poked out from the waistband of his boxers and leaked a drop of clear fluid; Harry licked it away and moved his tongue against the roof of his mouth to taste its full flavour. As he pushed down Severus’ pants, he took more of him past his lips until the tip of Severus’ cock hit the back of his throat. Sucking hard, he slowly lifted his head.

Severus whimpered and grabbed two fistfuls of Harry’s hair. “Oh…” His eyes rolled back into his head, and Harry purposefully swallowed.

A long, silky moan rumbled from Severus’ chest as he spurted onto Harry’s tongue. Harry swallowed as fast as he could, but the massive load was too much and dribbled from the corners of his lips. Breathing through his nose, Harry kept Severus’ cock in his mouth until it fully softened.

Heavy-lidded and panting, Severus gazed down at Harry. “I…finally understand my housemates’ blathering… It feels completely different when someone else is doing the pleasuring, the lack of control.”

Harry used his thumb to gather the cum on his chin. He cleaned the digit with his tongue and then smiled at Severus. “That’s why I like to bottom.” Opening the top drawer of his bedside table, he retrieved a jar of lubricant. After he unscrewed its lid, he offered it to Severus. “Will you do me the honour of fucking me, Severus?”

Severus swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes,” he rasped, accepting the jar.

Once Harry moved off of his legs, Severus kicked off his boxers. Harry followed suit and removed his pyjama trousers and trunks.

Lying down beside Severus, Harry spread his thighs wide. He glanced at Severus’ dick and was pleased to see it jump with interest.

Severus tentatively brushed a finger across Harry’s puckered hole. Harry sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Severus’s touch disappeared, and Harry groaned. A second later, he felt lubricant being meticulously rubbed onto his bumhole. “Fuck…” Wanting to feel Severus in him, Harry encouraged him by pumping his hips.

“Look at me,” Severus demanded, the assertiveness in his voice hinting at the man he would become.

Once he had Harry’s full attention, Severus delved a finger into Harry’s hot, tight channel.

“Oh fuuuck,” Harry moaned, grabbing onto the bedsheet. His back bowed when Severus started moving the digit in and out.

Severus added a second finger and then a third. He watched with pleased fascination as he elicited moans and lewd words from Harry’s mouth.

“Enough,” Harry pled as some of the accumulated pre-cum on his stomach dripped onto the bed. “Please…Severus. Fuck me. I need your thick cock in me.”

Severus removed his fingers. He then took his length and rubbed it around Harry’s loosened hole. “You want this?”


A self-satisfied smirk curled Severus’ mouth. He lined his cock up with Harry’s opening and slid home.

Severus stilled and took a few slow breaths before he began pounding into Harry’s arse. Severus’ strokes were, at first, clumsy, but soon they were hard and sure, almost methodical. Even at the age of eighteen, Severus had a vast amount of control.

Harry whimpered at the deep, relentless penetration. He’d never been fucked so well.

Again, Severus changed the angle of his thrusts.

“Oh fuck!” Harry cried out as Severus hit his prostate. “There! Fuck me there!”

“Shit!” Severus hissed, clenching his jaw. “You feel so fucking brilliant.”

Severus continued to slam into the cluster of nerves inside Harry, but his pace progressively grew more frenzied. “Harry… Harry, I’m going to—”

Severus next thrust was so forceful that Harry felt it in his throat. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, and he came hard.

“—FUCK!” Severus bellowed, pumping his load deep into Harry’s spasming arse.

Gasping for breath, Severus collapsed onto Harry. Harry, breathing just as heavily, smiled and wiped sweat away from Severus’ brow.

Harry chuckled. “I think I’m actually ready to go to bed now.”

“Are you sure…” Severus grinned. “I could go all night…”

Harry wrapped his arms around Severus and rolled them onto their sides. He kissed Severus’ generous nose. “I am no longer a randy teenager.”

“Hmmmm. I’m quite certain I’m not the one that’s wanked once, made another person orgasm two consecutive times, and then come again himself.”

Laughter burst from Harry. “An accurate rundown, but it still doesn’t negate the fact that I’m incredibly tired.” He relaxed his head on his pillow and shut his eyes.



“How did I die?”

“Ever the Slytherin, trying to get information while I’m supple in your hands.”

Severus gently urged Harry to him for a long, passionate kiss. Harry groaned, feeling his resolve waver.

“Tell me,” Severus whispered against Harry’s lips. “Please.”

Harry felt tears rise in his eyes. “But…what if I make things worse?”

“You won’t. Please. A hint, that’s all I ask.”

What could Harry tell him that wouldn’t risk unmaking life as he knew it? Was Severus even worth the risk? As Harry gazed into Severus’ young pleading eyes, he came to the stunning realisation that yes, he was. Severus had given up his life for him; it was only right that Harry should risk the same.

“The day you die will be very similar to how you found yourself here. You’ll be walking towards the boat dock, but you’ll make your way past it all the way to the boathouse.” Harry brushed his fingertips across Severus’ sharp cheekbone. A line appeared between Harry’s brows. “Are you planning to earn a mastery in Potions?”

“No, I—”

You must. You must learn all you can. Especially about how to stopper death when it comes to…snake bites.”

“Snake bites,” Severus whispered to himself. “You’re not being needlessly ironic are you?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “No.”

Severus gave him a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Severus Snape… I’ve always wanted to say that to you.”

At those words, the night seemed to hold its breath. A split second later, Severus shimmered, and then he faded from sight.”

“Severus!” Harry yelled, leaping off the bed. “SEVERUS!”

Harry ran into every room, checking every cupboard. But Severus was nowhere to be seen. Harry knew he couldn’t have Apparated, considering the strength and complexity of the protections on his flat.

Severus was gone, likely back to his own time.

Pulling Severus’ pillow to his chest, Harry curled up into a ball and cried. He might have influenced the past, but the ending was the same: Severus had died.

Harry didn’t cry for long. He was exhausted and, in less than ten minutes, fell fast asleep.

The next morning, Harry woke early. For a second, he thought everything had been a dream. But then he saw Severus’ black boxers. Picking them up off the floor, Harry placed them on the edge of the bed. A wistful smile appeared on Harry’s face. For whatever reason, he had been given the gift of knowing both the best and worst of Severus Snape. He would treasure it, not let it eat away at him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked to the bathroom. Nature called, and he needed to relieve himself. Afterwards, Harry usually showered, but he didn’t want to wash off Severus quite yet. Instead, he went to the kitchen and prepared himself his breakfast tea and toast.

After cleaning up, Harry decided to open one of his Christmas gifts. It was Christmas Day, after all.

Back in the living room, Harry selected the present from George. He never failed to send Harry something that brightened his day, and Harry was in great need of some bloody fucking Christmas cheer.



He dropped the gift, and it hit the floor with a dull thud. Harry knew that distinctive, deep voice. It sounded even lower than he’d last heard it a few short hours ago. “Severus,” he breathed, turning around.

Severus Snape stood proudly in Harry’s fireplace. He wore his teaching robes, and they were soaked with tacky blood. Thankfully, Harry saw no injuries. “Are you okay?”

Severus strode towards Harry until his tall frame stood only a foot away. “Yes.” He stared at Harry in awe and with so much emotion that Harry felt tears fill his eyes. “I thought you were a dream. For the longest time, even after you started Hogwarts, I thought you were a dream, your name purely a coincidence. But then, you stayed at my side; you stayed until you thought I’d passed, and I knew. But still, I can’t believe…” Severus slowly bent forwards and then kissed Harry’s lips. He smiled softly. “Not a dream at all… I took your advice, as I’m sure you now know, and learnt all I could about potions. The potion I created to thwart Nagini’s attack stopped my heart while it ridded my blood of her poison and protected my brain function until the healing process completed.”

Severus stroked Harry’s cheek. “Thank you. Thank you for saving my life…after everything I did to you—” He clenched his jaw.

“Shhh. The past is in the past, Severus.” As happy tears ran down his cheeks, Harry wrapped his arms around Severus. “Happy Christmas,” he whispered fervently.

Severus immediately returned the hug and choked out a chuckle. “Happy Christmas, Harry,” he rasped.

Soon, silent sobs racked Severus’ body. Harry guessed Severus was finally letting go of the past, of all the pain and guilt he’d been carrying around with him since he’d been that slightly more optimistic teenager. Harry held him tight until Severus pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Severus said.

“Remember. You never have to apologise to me.” Harry smiled and then gave him a lingering kiss.

“Severus,” he said huskily, “by any chance, do you remember where my bedroom is?”


Harry stared into Severus’ eyes. “What am I thinking?”

Severus’ eyebrow slowly lifted, and he snorted out a laugh.

“Lead the way?” Harry asked.

As Severus guided Harry to the bedroom, he grinned with the same mischievousness Harry remembered from Severus’ youthful self, and Harry knew it would, indeed, be a happy Christmas Day.