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Illegitimate Coercion

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“Our Lord requests your presence.”

Lucius’s clothes were dirty and torn, his hair matted and his eyes bloodshot. Snape turned away from him in disgust.

“Now, Severus. He’s in the Shrieking Shack,” Lucius said more forcefully, clearly enjoying the small amount of power the Dark Lord had granted him. Snape’s eyes were trained on Hogwarts, he had to get closer. He had to find Potter.

“Really, you know, I think it would be best if you went to him right away. Of your own volition.” Lucius smiled his greasy smile. The one that spoke of power and knowledge, the one that had been so conspicuously absent for the last two years.

Snape had run out of time. He was so close and yet all would be lost if he didn’t find Potter. Perhaps the Dark Lord only wished to discuss battle strategy, and he would be able to resume his search soon. Lucius followed him to the Shack, dogging his footsteps until he had entered the building. Not giving him a chance to escape undetected.

“Severuss, my trusted servant,” the Dark Lord hissed at him, his voice high and inhuman. “I am glad you are here. You have always seen the importance of doing what is necessary.”

“My Lord?” Snape hesitated to say more, no conversation with the Dark Lord started well, but this was particularly inauspicious. He suppressed his shiver. He had to get away as quickly as possible.

“There is a service that I need you to perform tonight,” the Dark Lord hissed. His voice was inhuman, the rich baritone that he had once had was long gone. A constant physical reminder to Snape of this creature’s monstrosity.

The Dark Lord was about to kill him, and there was nothing that he could do. He had an insane urge to just turn and flee the Shack. Of course, he would be dead before he even reached the door. Dumbledore might have died master of the Deathstick, but he was going to be killed for it anyway. Snape silently cursed Dumbledore, as he had done every day for the past year.

“The battle progresses well, my Lord, their resistance is crumbling - “ Snape began, trying to distract his master. Trying to comfort him that his victory was assured.

" - and it is doing so without your help,” the Dark Lord interrupted, the Deathstick twirling in his hand. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."

The noise was so slight, a shuffle of feet on wooden planks, that Snape almost dismissed it. The Dark Lord looked away from him, and for one glorious second Snape thought he would be granted a reprieve.

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

The Dark Lord smiled. It was unearthly; lipless flesh twisting over teeth.

“There is no need,” he pointed the Deathstick at the far wall of the Shack, “he has already come to me.”

The explosion was not loud, and the bricks flew away slowly, as if he were taking care not to harm whoever was hiding there. Snape froze, more scared than he had been when he was approaching his own death. Potter was there, with his two little companions. The boy looked deathly pale; thinner and scrawnier than ever. He was so close that Snape could have reached out and touched him.

“My, my, Harry, you are early. I expected you to let many more die before you gave up. Perhaps we should correct that,” the Dark Lord’s voice was gleeful as he flicked the Deathstick. The two sidekicks were pushed back on a gust of pure magic. Weasley fell onto his back, knocked unconscious but still breathing. Granger fell too. Her head smacked into a brick with a wet thud. Her body looked wrong, the angle of the neck slightly off. Her fingers twitched and Snape knew she was dead. Potter must have come to the same realisation; he knelt beside her, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief.

“So, now that that’s all arranged, we can move into the flat on Thursday. Which will be good. I dunno if George will be...if it will be easier for George, getting away from the Burrow. But if we’re going to open the shop on Monday, then we might as well move in beforehand,” Ron said, taking a sip of his butterbeer and leaning back into the sofa.

“That sounds great,” Harry said, fidgeting with his own drink. There didn’t seem to be anything he could say in response to that. Conversations didn’t flow as easily as they used to, even between him and Ron. People would tell him things, and he would nod and not understand what they wanted him to say, whilst they stared at him expectantly. If Hermione were here she would have filled the silence by now. She would have said something sensible and intelligent.

“Do you think you’ll be ready to open on Monday?” Harry asked desperately. Ron shot him a pitying glance.

“I dunno,” he answered with a sigh, “George is getting a bit off again...But, that’s natural, right? Life goes on, that’s what everyone keeps saying.”

This time Harry didn’t even try to answer. The silence between them felt more comfortable than it had in weeks. If he had been sitting with anyone else they would have felt the need to fill the silence, but with Ron he could just sit. He didn’t have to explain anything.

“Mum said to tell you that you’re welcome at the Burrow anytime. Just turn up whenever. I think she wants you to move in, to be honest,” Ron said with a small half-smile. The one that he had perfected over the last month.

“I think I’d rather stay here. I like the quiet,” Harry said, looking around. Grimmauld Place was still dark and foreboding, but under Kreacher’s care it was no longer as dank and dirty as it had been before.

“Yeah...Look, mate. I’ve been thinking. I know we don’ about it..” Ron trailed off as Harry turned away sharply, the sudden flood of fear making his stomach twist. He desperately wanted Ron to just be quiet. “Sorry, sorry..but I was thinking about...You do know that wizards can get pregnant, yeah?”

Harry shook his head without looking round at Ron.

“It’s just, when you said you were getting sick every morning…” Ron put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and rubbed slightly. “It’s not a big deal, even if you are. There’s a simple….potion. We don’t even have to go to St Mungos, we could make it here.”

Harry breathed deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs and releasing it slowly. Then he worked out what Ron had meant.

“We don’t even know for sure that I am,” he spat out, sounding angrier than he intended. By now he should be used to the strangeness of the Wizarding World, but the idea that there could be a life inside him, that such a thing was even possible, was astounding.

“I can check, if you like?” Ron asked, already reaching for his wand. “I, er, looked up the spell this morning.”

Harry nodded, his hand straying to his stomach without conscious thought. This was all happening too quickly and he needed time to think. His stomach felt as flat and empty as ever and part of wondered if Ron wasn't making all this up. He was half-expecting Ron to smile and laugh and tell him it had all been one big joke and then they'd go back to talking about the Joke shop. But Ron didn't smile or laugh, instead he raised his wand and pointed it at Harry.

Perkip Fetum

His stomach felt oddly light for a second and then glowed a beautiful light green.

“Well?” Harry asked finally looking up and away from his stomach as the light faded. Ron was sitting in the exact same position, his wand still pointed at Harry’s stomach.

“I didn’t...I mean, I thought we should check, but I didn’t really expect..Mate, you’re pregnant,” Ron stammered, blushing.

“Harry,” the Dark Lord’s serpent-like hiss sounded like a caress as he breathed out the boy’s name. What was Potter thinking? Why was he here at all? He should be in the castle. He should be safe. At least, until Snape found him and delivered his terrible message.

“You killed her!” Potter spat, rising from Granger’s corpse. His anger had beaten back his fear and he stood defiantly in front of the Dark Lord. So foolishly brave. He was half tempted to just grab the boy and Disapparate away, but the Dark Lord's wards around the Shack were so strong he could almost physically feel them.

“You have no idea how much I have longed to see you again, Harry. To see you in your rightful place, broken and dead at my feet. But, now you are here before me, I have decided to grant you a little mercy. A stay of execution so that you might understand the completeness of my victory over you. Never let it be said that the Dark Lord is without mercy. Incarcerous!

Ropes flew around Potter’s wrists, tying his hands in front of him.

“I want you to feel everything that is happening to you; to know that it is I who am doing this to you. I could break every bone in your body, would you like that, Harry? Slowly, agonisingly and with such delicious pain that even death will seem like sweet relief. Or perhaps the Cruciatus? I could be your teacher, Harry. I could demonstrate the true power of an Unforgivable as pain overwhelms your senses and strips you of your sanity. But, I have already taught you pain, have I not, boy? Perhaps I should steal something from you, before you die. One last indignity that is a much more fitting punishment.”

The Dark Lord flicked his wand again, but no injury appeared on Potter’s body. Instead, his clothes vanished and he stood completely naked before Snape and the Dark Lord.

“Severus. I could not give you what you wished for all those years ago, but this one is more suited to your tastes anyway.”

“Harry! This is a really bad idea! Just, just hear me out, alright? Wizarding pregnancies are always tough. The magical infusions from the other father don’t always take. Mum says - “

“You told your mum?!?” Harry interrupted, feeling betrayed. Ron was the only person that he'd told the full story of what had happened in the Shack that night. Even then, only because Ron had been semi-conscious and had kind of remembered bits of it anyway. No-one else was supposed to know. All the public deserved to know was that Voldemort was dead. Everything else was his business.

“What? No! Just, in general, when she talks about wizard-borns, she always goes on about how romantic it is...He raped you, Harry.” Ron finished quietly, looking at Harry but clearly terrified. Harry had spent the last few days so pre-occupied with the idea of being pregnant that he'd somehow forgotten about Snape.

“It wasn’t...Voldemort made both of us do things,” Harry paused to take a sip of his tea. “This is my baby, Ron. I didn’t know this was what I wanted until you performed that spell, but I want this, I want a family.”

Ron put a biscuit in his mouth and chewed noisily before answering.

“It doesn’t have to be this baby though, does it? I mean...You don’t even have to get rid of it, just don’t go and see him, and it will go away naturally. And then, in a few months, you just…” Ron waved his hand in the air, "Go and find some decent bloke and sprog up with him.”

Hermione would have slapped Ron for that; would have said something about Ron’s complete lack of sensitivity. Harry smiled.

“Find some decent bloke? Ron, I can’t go outside without Rita Skeeter or one of her photographers following me everywhere. My love life is officially dead,” he swallowed as he remembered to swerve the conversation away from one of the other topics they didn’t talk about. Harry’s love life and where Ginny Weasley fitted into it. “Anyway, this...this thing is alive inside me, and I can’t let it die. It would be like letting Voldemort win!”

Ron sighed heavily.

“Just don’t forget about me, alright?” Ron said reaching for another biscuit. He’d finished all the chocolate ones and was making a start on Harry’s digestives, the only ones that didn’t make Harry feel nauseous after he ate them. He loved Ron dearly, but he could be so selfish. Ron was surrounded by family, he’d just moved in with George and they worked together every day. He was never alone, he always had people that loved him around. Whereas Harry had Kreacher and an empty house.

“Course not! Eight months time and you’ll have a godson to spoil!” Harry said, trying to inject some laughter into his voice, but failing. Ron dug out a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to him. Professor McGonagall's familiar handwriting spelled out Snape's address for Harry.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Ron asked. Harry shook his head quickly to Ron's poorly disguised relief.

“I’ve got to do this by myself. Anyway, I have no idea what he’s going to say, probably for the best if it’s just me.”

Ron patted his hand gently. Harry wondered if he was trying to impersonate Hermione; if that was how Ron thought Hermione would have comforted him. It felt wrong and false, but he didn’t say anything about it to Ron.

“Do you think he’s pure, Severus? Untouched?” the Dark Lord reached out and stroked Potter’s chest. It was disgusting. Those inhuman claws pawed at Potter’s pale flesh. The boy flinched slightly and then spat at the Dark Lord. In the past he would have been annoyed at the boy’s arrogance; when confronted with the Dark Lord, it did little good to try and provoke him further. But now, now as they were both about to die, he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting his message to Potter in a way that he would believe. He had to make Potter understand that he must let the Dark Lord kill him. That he must not fight this. He must be a willing sacrifice.

“I do not know, my Lord. It seems likely, he was always rather underdeveloped,” Snape said. Potter glanced at him, perhaps he was only just realising that Snape was there. His face was filled with hate, as if he hated Snape just as much as he hated the Dark Lord. It was possible he did. Potter turned away from him, staring back at the Dark Lord and ignoring Snape.

“Do you desire him, Severus?” the Dark Lord asked, still staring fixedly at the boy. Potter’s spit ran down his cheek but he did not bother wiping it off. Perhaps it was a trophy for him; Harry Potter, defiant to the last, soon to be dead by the Dark Lord’s hand.

“My Lord?” Snape shifted uneasily. The Dark Lord enjoyed many depravities, but they were never sexual. The boy had been one of his students and, no matter that he was no longer technically a child, that was enough to kill any desire Snape might have felt for the nubile young man.

“You have always preferred men, have you not? I offer you the chance to revenge yourself of your greatest enemy and slake the lusts of the flesh, both at once.” The Dark Lord’s hand was still on Potter, creeping up his body until he was cupping his face. They were so close that the two of them might have kissed.

“I...Please, my Lord, I cannot - “ Snape floundered. He had spent so long hiding behind his Occlumency shields, he always knew just what to say to appease his Lord. But he could not do this. He could not rape Lily’s son.

Ron had told him that the area was muggle and a bit run down, but this was not what he’d been expecting. He’d sort of been expecting a tidier version of the Burrow. This was the sort of place that would make Aunt Petunia turn her nose up and make disparaging remarks about the working class. It was funny really, now Harry knew that she’d been brought up only a few streets away from here.

There wasn’t a door bell and the wards were so subtle that Harry almost missed them when he reached out to knock on the door. Snape would already know he was here, but he knocked anyway. It was the polite thing to do.

It didn’t take long for Snape to open the door. He didn't look like he had before the war. His hair was still just as greasy and his nose as ridiculously big, but there was something different about him. He wasn’t wearing his robes, just a white billowy shirt, a tight black waistcoat and black muggle trousers. They stood in silence, until finally Snape took a step forward and Harry could see him more clearly in the bright sunlight. He realised why Snape looked different. He looked tired; there were dark rings around his eyes and his shoulders were slumped inelegantly. Snape didn’t move the way he always had, he had lost his cat-like fluidity; each move was jerky and awkward.

“Can I come in? Professor Snape?” Harry asked finally. Snape didn’t answer, but stood aside so Harry could squeeze into the narrow hallway. Snape did not look eager to see him, but that was hardly surprising. The silence was strange though; Harry had expected to be greeted by some bitter comment, some sarcastic remark; yet Snape was still unspeaking.

Stepping into Snape’s parlour reminded Harry of stepping into his dungeon classroom. The room was lined with shelves bowing under the strain of being laden with too many books; odd little curios were cluttered onto every available surface. All that was missing were the jars of dead and pickled Potions ingredients.

“Sit, Potter,” Snape finally spoke to him, he sounded even more tired than he looked. Harry eyed the ratty sofa wearily, it looked like it was probably home to quite a few magical creatures. Sitting on it seemed like a guaranteed way to get bitten by a Doxy, but it was perfectly comfortable once he sat down. Snape lit a fire with his wand, even though it was only early afternoon and the room didn’t feel cold.

He sat down on an armchair close to the fire and looked uncomfortably in Harry’s direction.

“I came to tell you...Well,” Harry began awkwardly. It was difficult to talk properly with Snape staring over his shoulder and refusing to make eye contact. “I’m pregnant.”

Snape’s jaw tightened and his hand squeezed the edge of the arm rest until his knuckles went white.

“Is this a joke? Is this why you came to see me? The great Harry Potter, Destroyer of the Dark Lord, finding the time to come and laugh at -”

“NO! Please,” Harry could feel the tears that always seemed so dangerously close to the surface welling up embarrassingly. “It’s true.”

Snape trembled and let out a great sigh. His shoulders slumped again and he sat hunched in his chair. Harry had never seen him looking so human.

“The male abortifacient is a simple potion. You may wait here while I brew it. It should only take thirty minutes,” Snape said, his voice bland and unemotional. He was already rising from his chair when Harry spoke again.

“I want to keep it,” he blurted out. Snape froze, half out of his chair, finally looking Harry in the eye. There was the faintest brush of Legilimency against his mind and then Snape collapsed back into his chair.

“You cannot keep it. Do you not understand how wizarding pregnancies work?”

Harry nodded. He knew he had to convince Snape, but it had seemed like a much simpler prospect when he’d been back in Grimmauld Place. Snape seemed to have overcome his shock and launched straight back into anger.

“And what, exactly, makes you think I would be willing to ever touch you again. Isn’t it enough that it happened once? Let that be an end to it! Let the foetus die.” Snape didn’t raise his voice, his deadly whisper carried across the room and made Harry shiver.

“I can’t! Don’t you understand? This baby,” Harry put his hand on his stomach, even though it was still entirely flat, “Is a new life. It’s an innocent and, and it shouldn’t be punished for something Voldemort did! Just like I shouldn’t have been! I was just a baby and Dumbledore forced me to be this person...It shouldn’t have been like that and this is our second chance. Please.” Harry wasn’t even sure that what he was saying made any sense. He just needed Snape to agree, he just wanted that so badly.

Snape peered at him for the longest time. Harry wondered if he should start talking again, if there was another argument that he should use instead.

“There are no second chances, Potter. We make mistakes and we pay for them. If this will settle the debt between us, then so be it.” Snape said tiredly. Harry squirmed slightly, he did not like the sound of that. He owed Snape so many Life Debts, there was no way that Snape owed him anything. Even aside from that, Snape had only done what was necessary to stay alive and to win the war. There was no debt. Harry hesitated, torn between assuring Snape that he owed him nothing and keeping silent for the good of his baby. Harry didn't correct him. The most important thing was keeping the baby alive.


The spell hit him with a shock, as did all of the Dark Lord’s spells; the man was too powerful and cared too little for those around him for it to be any different. Snape bent over in pain as his cock swelled too rapidly. His clothing scratched at his groin and he wanted to strip and be as naked as Potter, but he refused to give in.

“Ah, Severus. Always so correct, but for now you have no need of your inhibitions. You have been such a faithful servant; come, and take your reward,” the Dark Lord gestured towards him and his clothes vanished as swiftly as Potter’s had done. Laying his hands on Potter’s shoulders the Dark Lord slowly turned the boy round to face Snape. Potter took in his nudity and seemed to finally understand what the Dark Lord intended. He began to struggle, but the Dark Lord was too powerful. He held him in place.

Potter hissed and spat, fighting like a wild animal, although Snape knew it was in vain. That was not the way to defeat the Dark Lord. In fact, the only way left for Snape to aid Potter was through Legilimency. If he could just access Potter’s mind, then he would be able to tell him the truth and finally pass on Dumbledore’s message. Of course, with the Dark Lord watching it would be near impossible, a suicide mission at best. The only way to distract the Dark Lord enough would be to go through with this torture, and once he was occupied with Potter then he might be able to communicate with him. The chances were not good, but it would be worth the risk. Anything would be worth the risk at this stage. The Dark Lord’s muttered spell sent Potter crashing to the floor.

“My Lord, I am not worthy of your generosity.” Snape said, sinking to his knees. Potter clamped his legs shut and tried to roll away. Snape grabbed hold of his ankles and stopped him moving, he had to stop the Dark Lord from wanting to change positions. This would be easier if Potter was on his hands and knees, but Snape needed to be able to make eye contact with him. He could not allow Potter to struggle so much. Potter’s hands were bound but he still tried, ineffectually, to slap at Snape. His foot caught a slight kick on Snape’s painfully hard cock. Snape suppressed his wince, hoping the Dark Lord had not seen it.

Snape pushed forward, spreading Potter’s legs and kneeling in between Potter’s thighs. He was terrified and, even now, he knew the Dark Lord would still kill him tonight; but despite that he couldn’t stop himself from noticing Potter’s beautiful body. He didn’t want to, he shouldn’t find this attractive, but it had been so long since he had had a lover. He had been so alone and now here was a body spread out before him. Potter kicked his back and his lust died. This was not the body of a lover. He was a rapist, stealing a boy’s virginity.

“If this is indeed what you want, we shall commence today. You will return here once a week until you give birth, on the condition that there is no mention of that night. There will be no discussion of any aspect of it, am I making myself clear?”

Harry nodded gloomily. His mum’s best friend, the one person who could tell him more about his mum than anyone else in the world, and he refused to talk about her.

“The leaflet from St Mungos said twice a week.” Harry couldn’t help the flash of nostalgic happiness at correcting Snape.

“Exactly how many people know about this, Potter? Should I be expecting a wizarding mob complete with pitchforks to come knocking at my door at any moment?” Snape bit out. He was clearly struggling to be polite, but failing miserably. At least he had given Harry some tea, that had been an unexpected kindness.

“No-one. Ron got it for me.” Harry said before taking a sip of his tea. It tasted strange and for a second he had a terrible feeling that Snape had slipped him something to give him an abortion, despite Harry saying that wasn’t what he wanted. Surely, Snape wouldn’t do that. Yes, he was a git and an arse, but he seemed to have a moral code of sorts and he wouldn’t do that.

Snape was frowning at him and Harry made eye contact with him without even really thinking about it. The brush of Legilimency was entirely familiar to him now.

“It’s ginger tea. It will help with the nausea,” Snape said, turning away from him. Harry wondered if he had offended Snape with his thoughts. Well, it was his own fault for being in Harry’s mind in the first place.

“Could you not do that? Not use Legilimency on me,” Harry asked annoyed. Snape turned back, one eyebrow raised superciliously.

“If you don’t like the feeling, perhaps you should study Occlumency,” Snape sneered half-heartedly, his voice lacking the usual venom. Harry just shrugged and took another sip of his tea.

“You do realise that the magical infusion only works with full penetrative sex, and the pregnant partner must always be the submissive?”

“I read the leaflet,” Harry said, shrugging again. Snape shuddered delicately and looked like he wanted to continue.

“Look, I learned everything about what we have to do. It’s not a problem for me, and you already said it wasn’t a problem for you, so let’s just get on with this, yeah?” Harry said, putting his tea down and standing up. He had no idea where he was going, but Snape stood up too so he supposed his speech must have worked.

“Come on then, Potter,” Snape sighed, “Upstairs.”

“Come on, Severus. If I have to persuade you this much, then perhaps you don’t really want him. Maybe you should fetch Lucius, he would be more than eager to fuck the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Snape backhanded Potter, watching as his face bloomed red with an imprint of his hand. The Dark Lord laughed, his high-pitched cackle sounded like some sort of animal in pain to Snape’s ears.

“So predictable, Severus, but amusing nevertheless.”

The brat looked back at him as if this was how he expected him to behave, as if him hitting a student was a normal thing. He had never, never touched a student. Even when Oswald Pendlebury had deliberately set fire to his potions classroom and caused every student’s cauldron to explode. The resulting explosion had ruined five years worth of Snape’s research, gutted the classroom and hospitalised ten students. If he had been able to refrain from clipping Pendlebury round the ear then it was unimaginable that he would strike any other student. Especially this one. Lily’s beautiful son.

His prick had touched Potter when he’d reached up to slap the boy. Potter was completely soft, naturally. His own prick touched Potter again, gently hitting against the boy’s balls as Snape leaned back, pretending to look down at the boy’s hole, but just desperate to not be so close to Potter. To not have to see that smooth chest, lightly flecked with dark hair. Potter had the muscles of a young man; small, defined but somehow softer than his own wiry body.

“My Lord, may I loosen him?” Snape asked, his voice calm and controlled and his mind screamed with rage and disgust. This shouldn’t be happening. He had sworn to protect Potter and yet he was the one raping him, he was the one about to tell Potter he must die. He had failed so utterly he wanted to give up now. He could just stand up, right now, and let the Dark Lord kill him now.

Of course, Potter would just be raped by someone else, someone who actually was a sadist, and then he would be killed in a way that would ensure the Dark Lord won the war. Wizarding society would crumble and Lily would be unavenged, but at least Snape would die without being a rapist.

“However you want him, dear Severus, this is your reward.”

Snape summoned his wand. He would not use his fingers to open the boy, that would take too long. Better to use spells.

Snape closed the bedroom door behind them, even though they must be alone in the house. Harry looked round the room unseeingly. This was what he wanted, but now he was here he had no idea what to do. Kicking off his trainers, he slowly started to undress. Snape’s face went completely blank, the sort of expression Harry had seen him use around Voldemort. He was tempted to ask what Snape thought he was playing at, just staring at him like that, but then, this was Snape. He had to be cautious around him; he was more liable to explode than an Erumpent horn.

Naked, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Snape was still fully dressed, standing by the door and looking ready to bolt at any second. This, Harry thought angrily, was definitely not what other people had to put up with. Everyone else got to fall in love; sex for them was lovely and gentle and Witch Weekly wrote tips on how to please your man in bed. That was the kind of life Harry wanted too. He just wanted to be normal.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asked. Snape frowned as if he’d just been insulted.


Harry shrugged. He had never wanted to kiss Snape before, but now that they were here, and they were going to be doing this for months, he wanted to kiss Snape. He wanted it to be different from last time. He didn’t want Snape to just fuck him every week for the next eight months.

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” Harry said.

Snape took a few cautious steps forward and then he knelt in front of Harry. He was still fully dressed and he smelled like the potions classroom at Hogwarts. It was strangely comforting. Snape reached out one long-fingered hand and held onto his cheek. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would have said that Snape looked scared, but that was impossible. Snape had stood in front of the Dark Lord and faced death and not looked scared.

It was almost a surprise when Snape leaned up and kissed him on the lips. For such a bitter man, the touch seemed so gentle, so light. Harry opened his mouth expecting to feel Snape’s tongue. He may have only kissed two other people, but he knew how it was done.

Snape didn’t push his tongue into his mouth, like Ginny always used to, nor did he suck Harry’s tongue into his mouth, like Cho had. He nibbled gently at Harry’s lips in a way that shouldn’t have been erotic, but somehow was. Snape licked at him gently, carefully and Harry closed his eyes so he could concentrate on how good it all felt. He didn’t want to be so passive, he should probably take control of this encounter, but Snape seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Snape ran his hand through Harry’s hair, his fingertips digging into Harry’s scalp and making him moan a little. He hadn’t been aroused since that night, he had assumed that he wouldn’t today either. After all, he didn’t have to come, as long as Snape did, then the baby’s health was assured.

Snape ran his hand down Harry’s side and he couldn’t resist the instinct to knock Snape’s hand off him and push the man away. The older man raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, he stood and began to strip. It was suddenly clear to Harry just how clinical this encounter would be, and he couldn’t bear it. He needed more than that, even if it was just another gentle touch like the kisses Snape had just given him.

“If we were lovers, what would happen next?” Harry asked. Snape sat down heavily on the bed and began to pull off his boots.

“Potter, if we were lovers,” he stopped and shook his head, “This is madness. It is a magical infusion, nothing more. ”

“Yeah, but...Obviously we’re not, like that, but I’d like to pretend, because otherwise it’s too much like, like last time. Even though,” he continued on hurriedly as Snape pulled away from him, “It’s nothing like last time, but my body gets a bit confused.”

“If you cannot distinguish between a magical infusion and the events of that night, then I suggest we cease this travesty at once,” Snape said. His voice wasn’t even particularly cutting, which, Harry thought, was almost worse than Snape in full sarcasm mode. He would have been spitting vitriol at Harry, should have been, but Snape didn’t, because he pitied Harry. And that, that was something Harry could not stand.

“I can tell the difference! I just don’t think that we have to be so clinical about this,” Harry retorted hotly. He’d rather rouse Snape to anger than have his pity any day of the week. Snape gave a defeated sigh.

“Lie down and close your eyes, Potter. We would have met in the bar downstairs. You approached me, you wanted to talk about an article I had recently published in Potions Quarterly,” Harry gave a soft snort, this was kind of nice and, even though he was naked, he didn’t feel vulnerable with Snape there, “This is my fantasy, Potter, be quiet. I bought you a drink and put my arm around your waist. You put your head on my shoulder and, when I whispered into your ear that there was an empty bedroom upstairs, you smiled and followed me up here. I undressed you carefully, caressing your skin….” Snape stopped and fell silent. Harry waited patiently for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Snape had turned his back on him and was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in hands. He didn’t look up when Harry sat next to him.

“Just let the foetus be dissolved back into your body. It’s only a few cells large, it is nothing. You and I, Potter, have no business having a child together.” Snape sounded so tired, so defeated, but Harry knew he could not give in.

“I can’t. I know, more than anyone, Professor, that this is tough, but please! I’ve always had to do what people tell me; been forced to be the Chosen One, to fight Voldemort, even to die at the right time. I just want this one thing,” Harry begged.

“And what about what I want, Potter? How many choices do you think I’ve been given?”

Harry bit his lip and tried to think about whatever he could offer Snape.

“We could be clinical if you like. No more kissing. Just...just fucking.” Harry offered.

He hadn’t used these spells in years. Not since before Potter had come to Hogwarts, not since Roderick had left him. Even then, he had always hated these spells. They were so impersonal, of course in this instance, that was an advantage.

Touching his wand to Potter’s hole, he muttered the spells. It was never wise to use non-verbal spells in front of the Dark Lord, his suspicions were too easily roused.

“Look at him, Severus, the image of your boyhood tormentor laid out before you. Yours to pluck, yours to plunder,” the Dark Lord said, running his hand through Potter’s hair. He had maintained his calm façade through so many murders, through so much cruelty but this was too much.

There was a faint smell of apples in the air, it was the smell of the spelled lube in Potter’s arse.

“Now, Severus. Take him now!” the Dark Lord crowed, his face alight with excitement and happiness. Potter wasn’t looking at him, he was determinately staring at Granger’s corpse. Snape looked down at his cock, nudging blindly towards Potter’s waiting hole. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would be dead soon. Slowly, he pushed his way into Potter’s virgin arse.

“I am not your professor any longer, Potter. That is, at least, one small mercy. You may call me Severus.”

Harry blinked up at the man. He knew that Snape had a first name, he’d even heard other people use it, but it was still alien to him that he should ever use it. Snape gave an exasperated sigh.

“We are having a child together, Potter.”

“Harry,” he corrected listlessly. He was having a child, and he needed Snape’s help; but he’d never actually thought about it being Snape’s child too. Not their child; his child.

Rolling back onto the bed, he got up onto his hands and knees. Snape was still watching him. He wiggled his arse in a way he hoped was suggestive. Snape watched his movement with that hidden expression again. Finally, he gave a small nod, stood up and started to strip. His body was different from how Harry remembered it. More muscular and scarred than he’d looked in the Shack; more human and less monstrous.

Snape knelt behind him and summoned a jar from the bedside table.

“You can just...If it’s better for you, you can use a spell,” Harry said awkwardly, feeling his cheeks heat up as he blushed.

Snape didn’t comment. Harry wiggled his arse again, but this time Snape grabbed hold of his hip and held him still. A cold, wet finger circled his hole and slowly pushed inside. It wasn’t painful, although it was uncomfortable and felt slightly wrong.

Snape pulled the finger out slowly and pushed in again. Harry tried to relax, he tried to push back against Snape. He knew what was coming, he knew what it would feel like. He trusted Snape to take care of it.

Finally, after Snape had used three fingers to open him up, Harry felt the blunt head of Snape’s cock pushing at his hole. Snape didn’t breach him, but just stayed perfectly still, until Harry stopped waiting. He pushed back, impaling himself on Snape’s cock. It didn’t feel as big as he remembered, but it wasn’t particularly pleasurable. It was just necessary.

The wet squelching noise and the slap of flesh echoed around the bedroom. It was enough to make Harry lose his erection. Snape gave a loud grunt and thrust harder into him. He could almost feel the spunk being pumped into him, he could certainly feel the trickle of magic as it pushed into him. It was a rather nice feeling, in a warming way.

Snape pulled out with a loud plopping sound and Harry rolled into a ball on the bed.

“Come back next week,” Snape spat angrily as Harry heard him stalk from the bed. He heard the door open, but then Snape spoke again, his voice calmer, “If the morning sickness hasn’t improved then come back before then. In wizarding pregnancies that’s usually an indicator of low magic levels.”

Then the bedroom door shut and Harry was left alone to gather his things and apparate away.

Potter was unfeasibly tight. The loosening spell should have relaxed him more than this. The stench of apples was nearly making him gag. He pulled out slowly and saw the Dark Lord watching him avidly.

Snape lowered himself over Potter, closer to the boy’s face. Once the Dark Lord looked away, he would grab the boy’s chin and force Potter to look him in the eye. He thrust in again and this time he heard Potter’s stifled gasp.

He hated the Dark Lord, hated him for so many things, but maybe for this most of all. He hated himself, for doing this. He should have said no, he should have let the Dark Lord kill him before it got this far. He hated the boy for feeling so hot and tight and good around his cock.

Potter’s stubborn mouth was set in a straight line, his lips almost completely white as he squeezed them together. If Snape were anyone else Potter would be begging him to stop by now, but the boy thought him incapable of mercy, refused to show any weakness in front of him.

It shouldn’t feel this good. He shouldn’t derive any pleasure from this. He was violating another human being, but his cock throbbed and he wanted Potter. This was wrong and he thought longingly of his own, imminent death.

The Dark Lord rose and walked behind them. Snape tried to keep an eye on him discreetly, but this was his chance. His face was inches from Potter’s but the little brat wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing his chin and forcing his face round but Potter still kept his eyes screwed shut. Refusing to look him in the face.

“Harry,” Snape whispered softly, the barest rustle of breath across Potter’s pretty face. His eyes flew open in astonishment. Had he ever called the boy by his first name before? Perhaps not.

He pushed, forcing himself deep into Potter. Into his arse and into his mind. The boy gave a startled yell and, for one terrible second, Snape revelled in the pleasure of Potter’s body and then all Snape felt was falling, diving into the abyss. He had no idea which memories he gave to Potter; there was a mad dash of explanations and flashes of memory. Finally, he was finished. He had given Potter everything, had told Potter everything he need to know, every secret part of himself that he had kept hidden for so long. Snape heard his own indistinct yell and emptied himself into Potter’s arse.

Ron finished his cup of tea with a slurp.

“Then George says to me, ‘Only the ones with parrots on them!’” Ron finished his story with a laugh. “Cos, you know, we marked the ones for external use with parrots… You’re going to see him this afternoon, then?” Ron’s grin faltered. Harry nodded glumly.

“Yeah. It’s fine,” Harry said with a shrug. “I just...It’s always….so...mechanical.” Ron blushed deep red and tried to take another sip of tea from his now empty cup.

“Isn’t that a good thing?? I mean, do you really want the slimy git, I mean, er, Snape, kissing you?”

“He did, the first time. I mean, the first time in Spinner’s End. It was nice actually, but I don’t think he liked it. He’s not really like that.”

Ron snorted loudly.

“He’s bloody lucky, is what he is.” Ron said, Harry shot him a quizzical look and he continued, “I mean, you’re Harry Potter! You could have anyone, but just cos of...well, stuff, he gets you all to himself! Think of all those years he spent skulking round the dungeons, and then suddenly you come along and want him to shag you twice a week, well, he struck gold!”

“Ron! It’s not like that! Everything’s always so awkward, even after two months of going round there. We don’t even talk anymore, I just knock on his front door, he lets me in. I go upstairs, take my trousers down and - ”

“Alright! Alright!” Ron yelled. Hermione would have wanted to know what he got up to with Snape, or perhaps she would have been embarrassed and agreed with Ron. It was harder to tell nowadays. She’d only been gone three months, but somehow it was harder to imagine her being part of conversations these days. If they’d been talking about homework or horcruxes or the best way to make a revision timetable, Harry would have known exactly what she would have said. But the details of his sex life with Severus seemed so far removed from anything he’d ever discussed with Hermione that he had no idea how she would have reacted.

“Ginny misses you, you know?” Ron said suddenly. Harry stifled a groan. This conversation never went well.

“I just… I’m going to have a kid with someone else, another man even. I told her not to wait around. Neville’s potty about her. I just can’t be the person she wants.” Harry said wearily, glancing at the clock. He had to go soon or he’d be late. Not that Severus ever really seemed to care about such things. He stood up anyway and Ron took the hint, rising from his seat at the kitchen table too.

“Alright, I do get it. It’s just not what I was expecting, you know?” Ron said, pulling him into a one armed hug. Harry laughed into his friend’s shoulder.

“Ron, I know exactly what you mean! I’ve got to go, I’m going to be late.” Harry said with a laugh before disapparating to Spinner’s End. It was always colder here than in London and Harry shivered as he made his way to Severus’ house.

As usual, Severus opened the door and didn’t greet him. Instead of standing aside to let Harry pass, as normal, he peered at Harry’s jumper. Slowly he reached out and Harry had the momentary urge to shove Severus’s hand away.

Severus plucked a red hair from his jumper and held it up to the light.

“The infusion is most effective, Harry, if the submissive partner remains faithful. I did not think that needed to be explained to you.” He grabbed hold of Harry’s arm and yanked him into the house, slamming the door behind him.

“I would have thought it was perfectly obvious, even to you, that we are engaged in delicate sex magic, and, as such, a certain level of fidelity must be maintained. Do you understand? No more diddling Weasleys!” Snape yelled, his face so close to Harry’s that he could feel the spit from Snape’s mouth landing on his face. Harry backed away from him until his back hit the front door. Snape followed him, looming over him all the way.

“I didn’t! It was just a hug! I swear!” Harry yelled back. This was so unfair, but Snape’s voice suddenly dropped to that whisper which could silence an entire class.

“They are my child too and you are endangering them. You were so insistent this child be born, perhaps you could be so good as to keep your legs closed for the next six months and not risk their life with your dalliances.” Severus leaned into him; their bodies so close that Harry could feel the heat radiating off Severus

“Keep my legs together!? Except when I’m with you, of course!” Harry spat back, refusing to back down. Severus wasn’t his teacher anymore and he refused to be cowed.

“Naturally, Potter,” Severus said with a smirk. Harry loathed him just then. The smug git looked so triumphant and Harry just wanted to wipe that look off his face. So he did the only thing that he could think of. He leaned up and kissed Severus on the lips.

The reaction was not immediate. Severus stayed perfectly still for a second, and then he was moving so quickly that Harry didn’t have time to think as the back of his head hit the front door with a loud smack and Severus’ devious tongue was inside his mouth, teasing and stroking him.

This time they didn’t make it the bedroom. Severus vanished Harry’s trousers and lifted him with a Feather-light charm. He still didn’t use the stretching and lubrication spells that he’d used that first time, but Harry didn’t care about that. Severus’ clever fingers slid over him, pinching and caressing and making him harder than he’d been in months.

This time, when he finally pushed a finger into Harry, Severus crooked his finger, just so, and Harry gasped as he grazed across his prostate. A second finger pushed into him and, when Severus rubbed his prostate, he didn’t hold back his moan of appreciation. By the time Severus had three fingers inside him, Harry was writhing against the front door, desperate for more.

“Please,” Harry gasped. Severus stilled suddenly, all three fingers still inside his arse. It was odd, but they never spoke during sex. After all the times that they had fucked, this was the first time there had been talk too.

“Please, what, Harry?” Severus’s breath felt warm on his face and his fingers moved slightly inside Harry as he spoke. Harry wanted to cry in frustration. He was so loose and wet and ready.

“Just, just fuck me. Please, Severus.” Harry begged. Severus breathed in sharply and pulled his fingers out of Harry too rapidly. Instantly, Harry felt empty, unbearably so; he didn’t know if it was desire or lust, all he knew was that he was so hollow and Severus would fill him up so perfectly. He nearly groaned in relief when he felt Severus’s cock pressing into him. Every thrust seemed to catch his prostate and, when Severus wrapped a clever hand around his cock, Harry came with an undignified yelp.

Snape pulled out slowly; his softening cock slimy and wet with his own spunk and the vile smelling lube, his mind felt dulled from lowering his Occlumency shields and having spent so much time trying to show Potter the correct memories.

Kneeling in between Potter’s thighs, he looked down at the boy. The Dark Lord was laughing and cheering and hissing jubilantly at his foul snake. Potter caught his eye and gave a small smile. Snape looked away. Of course, Potter was incapable of stealth or secrecy or even common decency.

Snape stood and transfigured a brick into a robe for himself. Potter would have to remain naked. He could still see Potter’s arsehole, stretched open and gaping between his splayed legs. Merlin, if the Dark Lord didn’t kill him tonight, he’d have to kill himself. He was a disgrace. Come dribbled slowly out of Potter, but he didn’t make any move; he just lay on the floor of the Shrieking Shack and readied himself for death.

“Now, Harry, now you may die. Avada Kedavra.”

Harry sat on the edge of the sofa. His trousers were back on but he could feel Severus' spunk beginning to drip out of him. It was remarkably uncomfortable.

Severus flitted about the kitchen, making tea. There wasn’t really any reason to stay, now that the magical infusion was finished, but Severus had offered him tea and it seemed rude to turn him down.

“Oh, I meant to show you this,” Harry said as Severus handed him his tea. Severus took the paper he’d got from St Mungos the day before. It was a magi-sound of the baby.

Severus stared at the magi-sound and then sat down heavily in his armchair. The picture didn’t really show a lot. In fact, to Harry it looked like a slightly-human fish, but Severus didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at it.

“They said he’s a boy,” Harry said with a grin. Severus looked over at him in shock.

“A little boy,” Severus whispered down at the magi-sound. Harry thought he saw tears in the man’s eyes, but dismissed the idea at once.

They were both dead. Of course Potter was dead, but the Dark Lord had collapsed as well. Snape hurried over to him to check for a pulse. There was a sluggish heartbeat. He would recover from this. Where did this fit into Dumbledore’s plan? Had the old fool over-reached himself again?

Granger was definitely dead. Weasley was starting to come round, but his eyes were unfocused and his head was bleeding. Snape poured a healing potion down the boy’s throat. He had been carrying this around for his own personal use, but after tonight he didn’t need it. When the Dark Lord eventually moved to kill him, he would welcome his end.

“Harry?” Weasley’s eyes fluttered shut, “Did we do it? Did we kill the snake?”

Snape frowned down at the boy. Was this why the Golden Trio had come to the Shack? Damn Dumbledore and his endless secrets! He had no idea why the snake must die. Snape sighed, if he must kill Nagini, then so be it. Even if this was just the rambling of a concussed idiot, then at least he would be avenging Charity’s death.

Nagini slithered around in her magical cage, angrily hissing at him as he drew near. A simple cutting curse should have severed her head, but it just seemed to bounce off her. Next he tried Sectumsempra; he felt the spell slashing at the air, but the snake remained uninjured. In desperation he tried the Killing Curse on her, but Nagini remained alive. The Dark Lord groaned and began to stir.

Finally, with a fearful backward glance at the Dark Lord, Snape filled her cage with Fiendfyre. Nagini let out a screaming hiss and then her scales blackened as the fire licked at her. The malevolent flames seemed to sense and relish in her pain, and she screamed again and then fell silent. The snake was dead.

Severus’s cock was in his arse, pushing into him, filling him perfectly. Every other thrust seemed to push against his prostate and made Harry gasp. He scratched at Severus’s shoulder, pulling his face down until they were close enough to kiss. Severus’ tongue pushed into his mouth with none of his usual finesse, but it felt right, when they were like this. Severus pounding into his arse and claiming his mouth.

Harry screamed his orgasm into Severus. The older man didn’t stop thrusting into him, instead he sped up, pushing deeper until Harry felt him come. He felt the warm trickle of magic inside him. God, he was going to miss this after the baby was born.

Severus rolled off him and slumped onto the bed. His hand strayed unerringly to Harry’s swollen belly.

“Have you considered what you will do with the child, once it is born?” Severus said quietly, his face still close to Harry’s head. Severus’ breath tickled his ear and made him shiver.

“Well, I mean, I’ve bought a crib, clothes and, well, I pretty much bought out the newborn section of Mothercare.” Harry said with a frown, he couldn’t quite see what Severus was getting at. Severus sighed, his breath catching in Harry’s hair.

“I mean, have you given any thought to where the child will be raised? Or in whose custody?”

Harry sat up quickly and scowled at Severus.

“In my custody, of course. You didn’t want him, so he’s mine.”

Severus reclined further, like a cat stretching, and used that blank face that entirely hid what he was thinking.

“Have you considered that it might be better for the child if he had two parents? And, let us be absolutely clear on this, I will be a part of my son’s life. Starting with the fact that no child of mine will be raised in that dank hell-hole you call Grimmauld Place. It is unfit for human life and I have no idea what you are doing still living there!”

“Oh yeah, and this place is so much better?!” Harry said scathingly.

Severus looked away from him and towards the small grimy bedroom window that overlooked the sea of terraced houses and closed down factories.

“Do you remember, many months ago, you spoke of second chances? I have never believed in such things myself, but, if they did exist, I think now would be the time for them.”


The Dark Lord’s whisper filled him with dread, but Severus would not humbled by this monster any longer. He had spent so many years spying and lying, finally the Dark Lord was vanquishable. Snape knew he did not have the power to kill him, but he found himself clinging to the hope that, somehow, Dumbledore’s scheming and meddling would come to fruition.


The Dark Lord had used the Cruciatus Curse on him many times before, but this time was a thousand times worse. All his anger and rage had gone into the spell, making it so powerful that Snape had no time to think, no breath to scream. His body fell like a rag doll’s onto the floor. His gasped breaths hurt his throat and he barely realised that someone was lying on top of him until he heard the boy yelling.

“No! You won’t kill him! Don’t you understand? You can’t kill anyone anymore!”

“Harry,” the Dark Lord voice was quiet and it sounded as close to scared as Snape had ever heard that psychopath come. “I will kill you and then the traitor, there is no need to beg for his life. Avada Kedavra!”


Snape heard the Dark Lord’s dying scream and smiled. The pain was making him lose consciousness, but his final thought before he passed out was a happy one. He had always told Albus that he had been right to teach Potter the Disarming Charm.

Harry waddled as he walked to the bedroom, Severus’s arm was wrapped round his waist to stop him from falling. It was overprotective, but it felt nice anyway. He rested his head against Severus’ shoulder and sighed, sometimes Spinner’s End felt more like a home than Grimmauld Place did. He didn't love Snape, or anything like that, but being here always felt good and, over the last few months, he'd come to rely more and more on Snape's presence in his life.

“I, er, I found a cottage. It’s close to the sea, near a muggle village, but isolated enough to ride a broomstick.” Harry began, Severus stopped unbuttoning his shirt and looked at him. There was no brush of Legilimency, but Harry had decided ages ago that he didn’t really mind Severus looking into his thoughts. He'd never used anything he found there against Harry.

“There’s a large garden, and a cellar that could be made into a potions lab, and, er, well there are quite a few bedrooms. So, you know, you could stay, if you wanted to, for as long as you wanted to.”

Severus stepped away from him and Harry panicked. Perhaps he had misread the situation. Perhaps Severus was just patiently waiting for the pregnancy to be over so that he could get Harry out of his bedroom and out of his life. Severus arranged the pillows on the bed into a neat stack that Harry could rest his belly on while Severus fucked him.

“I have a condition,” Severus returned to unbutton Harry’s shirt.

“No diddling Weasleys?” Harry asked, grinning up at him. Severus pinched his nipple.

“No diddling anyone else,” Severus said sternly, but then he put his mouth to the abused nipple and gently sucked in that way that always made Harry’s knees buckle. It wasn't like he wanted anyone else anyway.

“Oh, that’s fair enough,” Harry gasped, letting Severus lower him to the bed.