TBGCTBGC
He Defines Me
Chapter Seven
Severus was going to kill someone very soon. In fact, when he thought about it, it had been far too long since he had, so now would be a good time. When he’d gone into Hogsmead he had not anticipated that teenage clothes came in so many shapes and sizes. Not to mention that when you asked what you could get a fifteen year old boy to keep him occupied you quite often got laughed at; although, one man did suggest porn.
In the end he’d gotten a wizards chess set and a few books that he thought would be far more appropriate than anything he had in the dungeons. He’d also gotten parchment for Harry to write on, or draw on, or something that didn’t involve bothering him while he graded papers.
The clothes he’d come up with weren’t much better. He was entirely unsure of Harry’s size, so he’d guessed and gotten a few white button ups, and black pants. Preferably he would have gotten silk, but he was not sure he could convince Albus that silk was absolutely necessary. What he did think he could write off as necessary was the book on charms that could be used to keep small children from taking their clothes off. It was meant for two and three year olds, but when it came to keeping his clothes on, Harry was not much older.
He slipped through the door to his chambers, the packages would be sent to Hogwarts later that evening and the house elves would ensure they got to his room. After locking the door tightly, not sure whether he was trying to keep Harry in or other students out, he turned around and immediately noticed both a lack of light and a lack of Harry. The boy generally tackled him when he came back in the evening.
Severus shook his head in mild disgust. It wouldn’t do to get used to habits after only a week, he might become attached. Figuring the boy was probably asleep, he slipped quietly into the bedroom, only stopped in mid stride as his brain tried to register what his lower portions had almost instantly responded to.
Harry was sitting on the bed in his customary fashion, on his knees, legs best back, wearing only the button up shirt, and collar. He’d even taken the wrist cuffs off. The small tattoo on his right wrist glistened in pale candle light. There were fewer candles than normal lit, and Severus would very much have liked to attribute his sudden erection to lighting, but he knew that wasn’t all. Harry had sat like that, in those clothes more often than once, but for some reason it was sudenly, and unmistakably erotic.
Getting up onto his hands and knees, Harry smiled. He’d never smiled that like. When he’d smiled before his face had lit up and Severus had found himself trying hard not to smile back, now all he could do was gulp and take a step back, trying not to imagine what kissing the sultry mouth would feel like.
Harry lowered himself onto his stomach, still smiling, and brushed a strand of his disarrayed hair behind his ear, "Hi, Severus."
The man felt his cock twitch between his legs at the way his name spilled from between the pouting lips. With far more restraint than he thought he had left, Severus walked toward the bed and laid his cloak around Harry’s bare legs and ass, "Stop right now."
The lip went from a sultry pout to quivering in only an instant, "Don’t you like?" When Severus didn’t answer, he sat up, pulling the cloak around himself protectively, "Don’t you want me?"
Stepping back cautiously, he lowered himself into a chair and stared at the bed apprehensively, "It is not a matter of whether I want you, Harry, I can not see how you could want me."
Straightening up hopefully, the boy tried the smile again, though it came out as innocent as it had the past week, "But I do, I do want you."
He held up a hand before Harry got up and took a deep breath, "I’m sure you think you do. How many people have you slept with, Harry?"
Harry held up two meek fingers, "Two, Tom and Mister Malfoy. Mister Pettigrew wanted to, by Tom caught him, and I had to wait in the bathroom. There was a lot a of screaming." Harry paused, "He didn’t seem very interested after that."
Indeed, little Peter would not have been. When Black had caught and killed the death eater two years ago they had been surprised at the number of old wounds on him, scars and marks in themselves were not unusual, but castration was, and according to the post mortem examination it had happened some years before, more than three. Thinking of Black helped him to will away his erection, specifically thinking about Black’s reaction when he found out Harry was alive, even better, thinking about exactly how disappointed the Aurora would be when he found out what his former best friend had tried to do and that he had not been allowed to perform the castration himself.
Sighing with relief as his penis fell back into it’s natural place, Severus concentrated on Harry. There had to be a way out of this, a way to convince Harry he did not actually want to sleep with someone more than twice his age. "Harry, did you like sleeping with them?"
Harry shook his head absently, as though there was nothing wrong with the declaration, "Not really. I suppose it wasn’t unpleasant, not after a while, but I didn’t want them like I want you. I wanted to please Tom, and I wanted to do as I was told, but I didn’t want them."
Standing up, Severus walked across the room and sat next to Harry, slipping an arm around the boy’s shoulders and trying to sound paternal despite his stiff posture, "Harry, before you decide you want someone older, maybe you should try with someone your own age. Maybe a girl."
When Harry scrunched up his nose in distaste and Severus couldn’t help but chuckle, though he said nothing. After several moments of silence, Harry looked up, "Severus, how do girls... do it?"
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Harry lay in bed, his head on Severus broad chest, thinking over when Severus had said. Girls were weird. He wasn’t sure he at all liked the sound of them. Shifting his leg to wrap around the older man’s, he cuddled into the warmth as Severus’ arm unconsciously slipping around his shoulders.
He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of girls. It sounded... messy, and dangerous if they were as emotional and hard to predict as Severus’ said. When he thought back it made sense. Sometimes when they were playing in the lawn one of them would start crying and he could never figure out why. They also wore strange clothes, sometimes frilly or bulky, and sometimes there wasn’t much to them at all.
Breathing deeply, Harry let himself melt into half sleep. No, the thought of a girl made his stomach knot up. He’d have to find a boy, an attractive boy, because if he was going to have sex with someone other than Severus’ they might as well be a what had Draco said a looker.
He wasn’t about to go scout the entire campus and face all those people on the off chance that one of them might want to have sex with him. Severus said most boys preferred girls, and he wasn’t even at all sure how to approach someone about having sex. No, he needed someone male, attractive, that he already knew liked boys, and that he already knew liked him.
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Voldemort lay in the bed of his new accommodations at Malfoy Manor. He’d been there for a week, and it was far too quiet. Much to his own disappointment he found that he deeply missed his pet. But then, why shouldn’t he? He’d raised it since it was a baby. There had not been a time in fourteen year he had not come home to it. Even when sleeping it made noise, little keening noises as though it were having a nightmare, or sometimes it would purr and mewl, clutching at whatever was nearest.
The past weeks sleep had been his worst since he’d first brought it home. As a baby it had been annoying at first, and Voldemort had questioned his own wisdom in taking it, but Narcissa had, if nothing else, taught him patience, and now he did not understand how he had ever slept without it there.
Feeling the sheets beneath his fingers he tried to imagine it’s body heat next to him and he breathed in the coconut scent it had left on the sheet. Lucius had returned to Riddle House two days after the attack to salvage what he could. The Aurors had taken his books, maps, copies of plans, anything that might help them, but they’d left the more material things behind. His pets large chair, the one it would spent all afternoon in, looking through books. It didn’t think he knew it could read, and always tried to hide books under the seat cushion as though it had been doing nothing. The bed sheets had been recovered, but the bed was too large to transport without someone noticing. Voldemort had ordered they not be washed, not just yet.
The only other thing he’d insisted Lucius return with was the cage. He could sense that it was not dead, like reading vital signs through the mark on it’s arm, but the mark he had put on his pet was far weaker than that he’d given his true servants. He’d never suspected he would have to track it, so he’d never given the glittering serpent that particular charm.
Just when He was beginning to fall into pleasant day dream, imagining it curled up close at his side, laughing softly as it sometimes did right before sleep, the door burst open. Tibby came tumbling in, her large ears bent down, shaking slightly at the foot of the bed, avoiding her master’s gaze. Lucius marched in after her, his proud head held high, cane in hand, "I am sorry to disturb you, Master, but the little elf has let something slip, haven’t you, Tibby?"
Tibby shook harder, mumbling about being a bad elf and punishments she was promising herself. Voldemort stood from the bed, both annoyed and curious, "What is he speaking of, Tibby? What have you done?"
Lucius smiled evily down at the little creature, "Tibby was told something a few days ago. Something she should have told you. Weren’t you, Tibby?"
The elf sobbed and covered her face with her hands, "Tibby is a bad elf, Master, but Tibby swore."
Voldemort crouched next to the elf and waited for it to look up, "What were you told?"
She sniffed, wiping her nose on her pillow case, "It’s about Masters Pet, it is alive." He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting with patience that can only be learned from raising a child, "Master’s Pet is at Hogwarts."
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