Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Candied Love ❯ Mistletoe ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

It had been quite some time since Harry's last visit to Snape. The boy had been handling the time decently, though Potions had become his least favorite subject for a new reason. Every time he was in class with the man, he'd remember that night, and get himself all riled up, and have to avoid standing at any cost, which considering in Potions you had to stand to brew whatever it was you were making that day, made it quite a difficult feat. Though, Harry managed, struggling through the days and the nights, laying awake in bed fighting the fantasies that filled his brain, causing his pants to tighten and a throbbing familiar ache to set in. Finally, it was time for the winter holidays. Most of the students went home, and though Harry had the option, he opted to stay at Hogwarts. Now that he'd had a taste of life away from the Dursley's, he really wasn't in a hurry to go back to that way of living. So, here he was, sitting with one of only about 20 students that had stayed behind, eating his dinner. He kept glancing up at the staff table, noticing that not all of the teachers were present. He figured that most of them had families too, and so that was why only a few were left to watch over them. Professor Snape, Quirrel, Trelawny, and of course, Dumbledore. Harry sighed. He just couldn't get the Potions Master out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. He knew he had to do something to distract himself to keep from going crazy over the other, but...well, what could he do? After dinner, Harry decided to wander about the castle by himself. Maybe a nice long walk would help him get his mind sorted out. After the second 'indecent' Snape couldn't exactly ignore Harry Any more. He hadn't canceled classes in years and yet he found himself actually canceling a class for the first few days after, trying to gather his mind as he told his fellow teachers that he was feeling ill. Pomfrey tried to drag him down to her wing but he quickly locked his door and spent a couple days gathering himself together again. It didn't take long as he just tried to remind himself who he was and who Harry Potter was, the son of the man he hated more then anything else in the world. So once again Snape went back to ignoring Potter, possibly even more then before and, thank the gods, Potter decided to leave him alone. In class he was more then happy to either focus on Draco or on taking points away from that annoying know it all Granger. But to him Harry was invisible, especially amongst all the students. Unfortunately the Christmas season rolled around and the students started to leave. Soon there were only the students that couldn't go home and that included...Harry Potter. Now with less students it was impossible for Snape just to ignore Potter. Luckily classes ended and Snape was able to hide in his office or traveling into town. If he timed it perfectly he would never see Harry at all. But here he was walking down the hallway and suddenly...there was Potter. Snape stopped in his tracks and he paled to a ghost white. They were completely alone in the hallway just him and Potter and he wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Snape quickly put his head down, focusing on his feet as he began to walk quicker. He just had to get past Potter and to the stairs that lead to the dungeons. From there he could quickly get to his office and lock the door. He just needed to get past Potter...Harry blinked, looking up at Snape rather surprised to see him there. He wanted to say something, and he tried to think of something good to say, but all he could come up with was "Hello sir." His voice was soft, and hew as nervous. They hadn't spoken since that night really, and now they were suddenly alone together. His body was almost trembling from nerves, and he moved towards him, looking up as he felt his feet lock in place. "Huh?" he eyes the mistletoe above him and then looked back to the man standing a few paces ahead of him."I…can't move." he mumbled, trying to move his feet and struggling, but it was as if they were cemented to the spot. He bit his lip. This so awkward and strange. Snape had planned to say nothing of course. He was focused on just keep walking forwards and to the stairs which were only a few feet away. But suddenly he heard Harry say he couldn't move...and suddenly...neither could Snape. It was as if Snape feet were stuck in mud or glue. He couldn't even lift his feet, they felt like a hundred pounds heavier then usual. Snape looked around, trying his best to determine what had got him stuck and then he just happened to look up. "Oh dear lord," Snape muttered as he recognized the same mistletoe that those stupid Weasley brother's had been sticking up all over the place. He had seen them tacking it up on all of the dorm doors laughing as students did what again? Snape paled. Oh dear lord indeed. He looked around again but the only other person in the hallway was Harry. No one was coming and there could have possibly been no one coming for a long while. There was no way of knowing how long it would take before someone came around this part of the castle, considering this was one of the back hallways, one that wasn't used very often. They were stuck in a hallway with no way of getting out. Well except one. Snape, for the past few minutes, had been fighting looking at Harry's face, avoiding Harry's eyes as they stood directly infront of each other. But it was quiet impossible now. He was now looking directly at Potter, those brilliant green eyes looking at him. It made Snape's heart beat faster, those innocent eyes reminding him of that night they had spent that long while ago. Snape was quickly beginning to realize that Harry was a very beautiful young man. He always had thought of Harry as ugly because of he was his father's son. But Harry's beauty was more then James could ever wish for. Snape swallowed trying to focus. He couldn't give into his feelings. He couldn't give into it again. "When I see those Weasley idiots I am going to take a hundred points from Gryffindor!" he grumbled. Of course he had noticed how plump Harry's lips looked. The boy had a pretty set of full lips for a boy his age. What would it be like to kiss those lips Snape wondered. It probably would have been heaven. Snape sighed. "Potter," he said, "I'm afraid the only way either of us are going to be able to move is to...well do something that I don't particularly think is good for either of us at the moment." He reached out a hand and touched Harry's face. Harry's face was so soft, his cheek like touching a tender peach. "You have to understand that I'm only doing this so that we can move again. Please don't take this the wrong way..."Harry blinked, looking over at him. The Weasly Twins? What did they have to do with this? Oh wait, he did remember seeing them tacking this stuff up, but what did that have to do with him not being able to move. He opened his mouth to ask just what Snape was talking about exactly, when he felt those fingers brush against the soft skin of his cheek. He winced slightly at first, almost afraid that he was going to be hit. Then, when no blow came, he relaxed, staring up at him."What do you have to do? Isn't there just a spell that can get us unstuck or something?" he asked, not fully grasping the whole concept of what was going on. Not only that, but he was growing more and more confused about things. The way Snape was looking at him now...It was as if he thought Harry was...good looking. Or at least, he was looking at him with a sort of longing, desire in his eyes. Harry was young, yes, but he'd seen that look before. He liked to sneak out late at night and watch mushy romance movies back home when the Dursley's were asleep. That was the way a man looked at a woman when he wanted her. Not only that, but the way Snape was touching his face was a lot like how a man would touch a woman's face before kissing her somewhere romantic like at a park in the rain, or maybe under the moon light and stars. His heart began to beat faster against his chest, and he soon began to grasp just what it was Snape planned to do."B-but...but how will that...help us get free!?" he asked, not sure just how it made him feel, the idea of kissing the older man. Of course, he wanted to do it and all but...Well, after being ignored for so long by the other, he was hurt! Was it really so bad for him to desire his teacher in the way that he did? Was it really so bad for them to do the things they had done? He knew that most people would frown upon it, but he wanted oh so badly, and he knew that Snape enjoyed it, at least while it was happening...Snape's eyes softened although he rolled his eyes. "Dear Merlin Potter," he breathed leaning in closer to the boy. "Don't you ever shut up?" They were so much closer now. Snape could smell Harry's warm breath. It smelled sweet. He cupped Harry's face as he knew that he had hurt the boy. He himself was hurting, as much as he hated to admit it. It felt so right and yet the world would never see it as anything but very wrong. Snape felt horrible now, more horrible then he had calling Harry's mother a mudblood. What would Lilly say now with him feeling like this about her son. He was falling for her son now, not just because he was her son but for more then that. He wasn't sure what it was but it was drawing them together in the worst way possible. "I'm sorry Harry," Snape said softly getting closer, "I really am." Their lips met and it was like heaven again. At first it was a gentle kiss, just trying to focus on getting them free but even as the magic seemed to ware away Snape couldn't stop himself. He found himself able to move again but he wrapped his arms around the boy's body bringing him closer to him. Harry's smaller body fit so perfectly against his, one of Snape's hands cradling Harry's head as the kissed deepened. His lips pressed hard onto Harry's his tongue delving into that sweet mouth as he kept going in what felt like forever. He had never kissed anyone like this, not in all of his life had he ever kissed anyone so passionately. He would have kept going with that kiss until the end of time. But unfortunately the both of them had to come up for air. Snape's breath was faster now, taking in needed oxygen as he found his half lidded eyes looking at Harry. The boy looked so needy now, his face all flushed and his lips puffy and bruised. Snape wanted to kiss him again, take the boy down to his bed and never let Harry go again. But he knew that was wrong, he couldn't do that. He let go of Harry frowning, not so much angrily but sadly. "I'm sorry Harry," he said. "We can't continue like this no matter how much we want to. It is against the law and if we were caught I would be arrested..." Snape sighed. "Please forget all of this Potter," he said, "please just go away and forget me." With that he walked away, keeping himself from looking back as he descended the stairs to his dungeon...Harry's eyes went wide when their lips touched. Even though they had technically gone farther than this two times already, it still felt like the kiss was the farthest they'd gone. His eyes slid closed after the initial shock, and he just melted into the kiss, standing on his toes once his feet were freed, wrapping his arms around the other's strong body.He was almost lifted off his feet completely as they kissed, his head swimming almost as if he had one too many butterbeers or something. Snape tasted amazing. Like cinnamon sugar only hot and wet too. He allowed the other as much access as he wanted, until he kiss finally broke, leaving Harry feeling dazed. He frowned though, the high going away when Snape spoke, telling him that they could never be, then walking away leaving Harry standing there, feeling as if he'd been hit in the face or something. It took him a few moments to even react, taking a few steps after him, his first instinct to chase after and make Snape listen, and to tell him that they would be careful and no one would ever find out but…He knew the other wouldn't listen. So, after a few steps, he fell down onto his knees, not even caring that it hurt, and they would be bruised. He just sat there like that, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Some Christmas this was turning out to be...