Title: Baking the Blues Away
Author: 
alisanne
Pairings: Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy/Luna Lovegood.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 6500-ish
Content/Warning(s): None, really.
Challenge: Written for the 2014 Snarry a Thon. Prompt used #8: Harry is an insomniac who bakes in the middle of the night to distract him from the reason he can't sleep.
Summary: See prompt. :)
A/N: Thanks to my beta readers, the fabulous emynn and sevfan, to badgerlady for the extra editing, and to the Thon mods for hosting this fest once again. ♥ Nothing you recognize is mine.
~
Baking the Blues Away
~
As soon as Harry walked into the DMLE in the mornings he was usually mobbed. “Harry’s here!” Seamus would cry, and within seconds he’d be surrounded. It was his routine, Harry was accustomed to it. It did get old, however.
The morning everything changed was a morning like all the rest. “Back off, back off!” shouted Ron, shoving everyone away. “Give the man some room to breathe!” And as people backed away grumbling, he slung his arm over Harry’s shoulders. “So, what do you have for us this time, mate?”
Without a word, Harry handed him the tray he was carrying. Accepting it, Ron lifted the towel and took a deep whiff. “Honey cakes? Brilliant! I love these things.”
“They’re for everyone!” called Harry after him, but Ron was already gone, the crowd moving off after him. Shaking his head, Harry moved towards his desk to start work on his reports. Smiling, he patted his pocket, where he’d stored a couple of the cakes for himself. He knew Ron very well, after all. He yawned widely.
“You look terrible,” said Cho as she walked past his desk carrying a honey cake.
Harry sighed. “Thanks a lot.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you spent less time baking and more time resting, you’d feel better, you know.” Leaning forward, she continued, “Believe it or not, some of us are actually worried about you. What’s wrong?”
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, Cho, I’m fine--”
She held up a hand. “Save it. You don’t have to talk to me, but you should talk to someone. Something’s clearly wrong, no matter how much you deny it. You should at least try not to lie to yourself, Harry.”
As she walked away, Harry kept his head down. He was under no illusions. He knew exactly why he spent his evenings baking pastries. But he could hardly tell her. Oh yes, that would go over brilliantly. ‘I bake because I’m horny, but the man I’ve been fantasising about since, oh, my sixth year in school, doesn’t want anything to do with me. Who’s that? Oh, well Severus Snape, naturally.’ Yeah, that wouldn’t start any rumours. He shook his head. Not going there--
Once the honey cakes had been distributed, Ron having managed to snag several before the tray had been forcibly wrestled from him, things settled to their usual pace. Harry managed to finish a couple of overdue reports before Ron came to chat.
“Hey, have you heard? New assignments come out today.” Ron leaned against Harry’s desk. “Think we’ll be on the same team again?”
Harry shrugged. “Dunno. The powers that be do like to mix things up.”
Ron made a face. “I know. Remember when they made me work with Malfoy on that smuggling case last month?”
Harry laughed. “Hey, as I recall, it made you very efficient. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wrap up a case that fast. You even worked late some nights to get it done.”
Ron snorted. “It was that or hex him repeatedly. And since he’s an Unspeakable, I didn’t think he was going to let me get away with that.” He sighed. “Git probably knows hexes I’ve never even heard of.”
“You’re probably right,” Harry agreed. He pursed his lips. “Although I wonder why they want us on cases with Unspeakables, anyway? Why not just have all-Auror teams?”
“Perhaps our inherently different investigative methods allow us to approach problems from alternate perspectives, thus resulting in faster case resolution,” came a familiar, silky voice. “Or it could be that they just enjoy seeing Aurors squirm.”
“Snape!” Harry, who had been balancing on the back two legs of his chair, had to grab the desk to catch himself from falling.
“Apologies,” murmured Snape, looking anything but sorry. “Did I startle you?”
“A bit,” said Harry as his heart settled. “What can we do for you?”
Reaching into his robes, Snape extracted a folder. “Read this. When you have completed it, if you accept it, report to Level Nine for further instructions.” Flicking a glance at Ron, Snape raised an eyebrow. “Mr Weasley, you have crumbs on your face. Saving a snack for later, perhaps?”
“I do?” Ron wiped his face with his hand. “Must be leftover from your honey cakes, Harry. Is it clear now--? Bloody hell, where did he go?”
They both scanned the room but Snape had gone as silently as he’d arrived. Harry shot an accusatory look at Ron. “You could have warned me he was there.”
Ron shook his head. “Honestly, mate. I didn’t see him coming. One second it was just us and the next he was standing there, looking all smug.” He eyed the folder on Harry’s desk. “And I wonder what that’s about?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “If I accept it, you know I can’t tell you.”
“I know, I know.” Ron grinned. “At least not until the case is over.”
“Maybe not even then.”
Ron hummed. “You’re going to take it, aren’t you?” he said. “I mean, it’s Snape.” He lowered his voice. “You still have a crush on him, don’t you?”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have work or something? Reports?”
“Fine, fine, I won’t mention it.” Ron groaned. “And don’t remind me about the reports. I’m trying to avoid dealing with those.”
After Ron had wandered off, Harry put up a standard privacy shield and opened the folder. Once he’d finished reading, he pursed his lips and sat back in his chair. The case sounded boring, and he had no desire to go down to the Department of Mysteries, but it would allow him to see Snape. Maybe he’ll even agree to go out for coffee if I’m subtle about it.
Cheered by the thought, Harry hummed as he packed up to report to Level Nine.
~
Level Nine had always given Harry the willies. He kept expecting giant brains to pop out from a hidden alcove. On edge, he made his way through the dark corridors until he arrived at the room Snape had indicated in his instructions. Before he could knock, however, Snape said, “Come in, Potter.”
Snape’s office was surprisingly well lit, with stacks of books and parchments piled on every flat surface. Lining the walls were shelves on which sat jars of various ingredients. Harry tried not to look too closely.
Snape was seated at a desk; he looked up when Harry entered. “Have you read the brief?”
Straight to the point, then. “Yes.” Harry stopped immediately in front of Snape’s desk. “And it seems simple enough.”
“So you accept?”
Harry shrugged. “Sure. Although I should think this would be a job for someone more--”
“More what?” Leaning back in his chair, Snape raised an eyebrow.
“Scientific.” Harry pulled out the folder. “It says here you need specific soil samples. What if I get the wrong ones?”
“You shan’t if you follow my instructions to the letter.” Opening a drawer, Snape pulled out a parchment and some phials and handed them to Harry. “Here are the first set I require. Place them in those receptacles.”
Harry took the parchment and the phials, shrinking the latter. “I’ll get right on it,” he said. “Do you want me to send the samples back one by one or bring them all at once?”
“Use your best judgement.” Snape’s eyes glittered. “You must have some; you are an Auror, after all.”
Just then Harry wasn’t sure about his judgement about anything. Collecting soil samples? He smiled tightly. “As you wish.” Slipping the parchment and phials into his pocket, he turned to go. He paused as his hand encountered something. Oh, the honey cakes from earlier! A mad idea struck him.
“Was there something else?” Snape had already turned his attention to the parchment in front of him.
Pulling out the bag, Harry set it on Snape’s desk. “Would you like a honey cake?”
“Excuse me?” Snape eyed the bag as if it would attack him at any moment.
Harry coughed. “I...bake. So this morning I brought in honey cakes and I had a couple extra, so--”
“You bake.” Snape pursed his lips. “I see. And what makes you think I wish to partake in your...culinary creations?”
Harry sighed. “I didn’t think anything, all right? I just had some extra cakes and thought you’d like one. If you don’t I’ll just take them and go.”
Snape opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver a scathing refusal, but was interrupted by the sound of his stomach rumbling. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps one.”
Harry nodded. Opening the bag, he proffered it to Snape, who reached in, delicately removing one of the cakes. He lifted it out, inspected it, and, after sniffing it cautiously, took a bite.
Normally, Harry was pretty secure in his baking skills. He was no gourmet, but no one had ever spat out his food. He found himself especially anxious, however, as he watched Snape chew, and when Snape swallowed, he exhaled. Well at least he didn’t spit it out. “So?”
Snape finished the rest in quick succession. “It was...acceptable,” he said, wiping his mouth. He eyed the bag and Harry smiled, pushing it towards him. Snape frowned. “Isn’t that yours?”
Harry shrugged. “I can stand to give up a honey cake.” He patted his abdomen.
Snape snorted, although he did take the bag. “You’re hardly fat.”
Harry smiled. “Neither are you.” He inclined his head. “You know, if you like those, there’s a local bakery that does a good cupcake. Maybe we can go there together and get coffee sometime?”
Snape’s eyes narrowed. “I despise coffee. Plus, I hardly think that’s appropriate, Auror Potter. Fraternisation between Aurors and Unspeakables outside of work is not encouraged.”
Sighing, Harry turned away. “Right.”
“Although--”
Harry spun to look at Snape. “Yes?”
Snape smirked. “Since when have either you or I been especially prone to follow the rules?” He glanced into the bag at the remaining honey cake. “If you keep baking, then I see no reason we cannot...consume those baked goods in each other’s presence.” He hummed. “And while I do not drink coffee, I am British, so I do have a kettle in here.”
Harry grinned. “Any specific requests?”
Snape licked his lips. “I do enjoy a good scone, and I’m quite fond of shortbread.”
Delighted, Harry hummed. “Shortbread. Right.”
Snape coughed. “Now, don’t you have some soil samples to recover?”
“Yes, yes I do.” Starting for the door, Harry tossed over his shoulder, “And I’ll see you for tea tomorrow.”
~
Collecting the soil samples proved as boring as Harry had anticipated, although it was nice to get out of the office and get some fresh air. All the samples had to be taken from Muggle gardens, so rather than try any complicated charms, Harry simply slipped on his Invisibility Cloak and got to it.
He had one nervous moment when a Muggle woman, dressed for gardening, started towards the very spot he was working, but a wave of his hand ensured she suddenly remembered an urgent appointment elsewhere, and he obtained the rest of his samples without incident.
By the time he was done it was past six, and, figuring no one would still be at the Ministry, he went home, putting the samples under a Preservation Charm just to be careful.
Cheered by the thought that he’d be having tea with Snape the following day, Harry set about making shortbread. While simple, it was time consuming, and he didn’t finish until after midnight. Since that still allowed him more than five hours of sleep, however, Harry wasn’t going to complain.
Still, he tossed and turned, nervous about the following day. Even wanking to his favourite picture, featured on page thirty-four of a wizarding porn mag he kept beside his bed (featuring thin, dark-haired men) didn’t work. Finally, at six, he got up and got ready to go in to work.
Ron was waiting. He sniffed. “Shortbread? Brilliant!” After practically tackling Harry, he took the tray and moved towards his desk. “It’s been ages since you made shortbread. I’ll just....keep these safe over here.”
“Oh no you won’t!” cried Dean, and the battle was on.
Shaking his head, Harry grinned as he watched his coworkers’ antics. Then, after patting his pocket to make sure his secret stash was still safe, he made his way down to Level Nine.
When he walked in, Snape was at his desk, parchment in hand. “Ah, Potter. You have my samples, I trust?”
“Right here.” Reaching into his robes, Harry pulled them out and unshrank them. “You didn’t say if there were any specific requirements as to what time of day they were retrieved, so I didn’t pay attention to that. If that’s important, let me know next time.”
“Indeed, you may trust that I shall make any such requirements known. That aspect was not important for these samples, but may come up in future.” Snape hummed. “And it seems you have learnt something of potions since you were my student. Bravo.”
Harry shook his head. “You were the best Potions teacher I ever had.” He smiled as Snape’s eyebrow went up. “Well, your book was, but that was still you.”
“Ah yes, my book.” Snape gestured to the chair. “We should discuss that. Whatever happened to it?”
Harry sighed. “Gone, I’m afraid. Fiendfyre.”
“A shame.” Snape sniffed. “Do I smell--”
“Oh yes!” Pulling out the tray of shortbread he’d reserved, Harry placed it on the table and unshrank it. “I made these last night.”
Snape gestured, and a tea set floated in from an adjacent room. When it landed, Snape poured two cups, handing one to Harry. “How do you take it?”
“Milk,” Harry said. “I’ll do it.”
“Very well.”
Snape took his black with one sugar. After preparing his tea, he reached for a piece of shortbread. Harry held his breath as Snape nibbled and then rapidly consumed the entire piece. When his tongue flicked out to catch a stray crumb, Harry almost moaned.
“Not bad,” he pronounced finally, reaching for another. “And you baked these last night, you say?”
“Yes.” Harry snagged himself a piece. “I...tend to be up at night, and I find baking relaxing, so--”
“You have insomnia?” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you sleep?”
Harry shrugged, looking away. “Not sure, really,” he lied. “I get tired, but--”
“Indeed.” Snape consumed a third piece of shortbread. “Well there are many methods to combat insomnia. Have you tried Dreamless Sleep?”
Harry made a face. “Yeah, but that stuff gives me a dreadful hangover, something I don’t need as an Auror. Really, I manage.” He smiled ruefully. “I went six years in school and a seventh camping while on the run, and trust me, I didn’t get much sleep then, either. I’ve learned to live with it.”
Snape hummed. “Well you’re certainly an adult. I should think at some point you’ll need to get to the bottom of it, but you know best. But if it persists you should look into it, Potter. Insomnia is serious.”
Harry nodded. “I know. I’m...working on it.”
“By baking?”
Harry smiled. “That’s just a side effect.” He chuckled. “Actually, at this point I’m not sure I could stop baking for people. I think my coworkers would take that like a hex to the heart.”
“One would hope they could learn to fend for themselves.” Snape leaned back in his chair. “And I must stop eating these lest I get fat.”
Unable to help himself, Harry gave Snape a slow once-over. “I’d say you’ve a while to go before that happens.”
“Flattery won’t get you out of your next assignment,” said Snape, a smirk playing about his lips.
Harry laughed. “I never thought it would.” Finishing his tea, he set down his cup. “Right. Where am I going today?”
Picking up a parchment, Snape handed it to him. “There are no time requirements for obtaining these samples either, save that they all need to be gathered before nightfall.”
“Got it.” Pocketing the list after he’d scanned it, Harry rose. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Snape gestured. “Aren’t you going to take the rest of your food?”
“I made them for you, so no.” Harry started for the door, then paused. “Oh, I meant to ask. Is there any specific sort of scone you like?”
Snape hummed. “Surprise me.”
Harry grinned. “That, I can do.”
~
Tea with Snape became his morning ritual. Harry would get in, hand Ron one batch of baking, then take the other down to share with Snape. As it turned out, Snape had very distinctive tastes. He hated anything with raisins, loved most things with nuts, and didn’t like anything too sweet.
“No more cupcakes, hm?” said Harry as Snape picked at a vanilla cupcake with vanilla cream frosting.
“Not for me, no.” Giving up his struggle with the cupcake, Snape set it aside.
Harry grinned. “Good thing I made these in reserve, then,” he said, pulling out a back-up tin of shortbread.
“You made two items?” Snape’s expression went speculative. “I see you’re still not sleeping. Have you tried non-potion related remedies? Warm baths, soothing music, lavender? And experts say you should not do anything in bed but sleep or--” He coughed. “Well, I’m sure you understand.”
Harry blushed. “Yeah, well not much of either sleeping or the other is going on in my bed, I’m afraid.”
“No girlfriend?”
Harry shook his head. “Or boyfriend.”
“Indeed.” Snape pursed his lips, but said nothing more.
Ron began noticing that Harry tended to disappear mid morning. “That must be some project you’re working on with Snape,” he said one day a couple of weeks later.
Harry coughed. He was pretty sure Snape was drawing out the project so as to continue receiving baked goods, but he wasn’t about to complain. “You know I can’t talk about it.”
“What about Snape?” Ron smirked. “Can you talk about him?”
Harry blushed. “There’s nothing to talk about. Sadly.”
“But you want there to be. This is serious, isn’t it?”
Surprised at Ron’s matter-of-factness, Harry nodded slowly, “Yeah. And I thought you’d be more...upset. I mean, you tease me but when it came right down to it I thought you’d...object.”
Ron sighed. “I’ve known how you felt about him ever since we figured out who the Half-Blood Prince was, mate. He may not be my first choice for you, but if you’re happy then I’m good.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Anyway, you’re working with him, you must have an idea if he’s interested. Just...ask him out.” He grinned. “Or, I don’t know, bake him something. Even I’ve been considering marrying you for your scones.”
Harry laughed. “Very flattering, but Hermione would kill me.”
“Yeah.” Ron smiled goofily.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what do you think I’ve been doing all these weeks? Every time I go down to Level Nine to report, I’ve been taking extra pastries.”
Ron’s mouth dropped open. “Extra pastries?” His eyes narrowed and he scanned Harry as if looking for the pastries right then. “You’ve been holding out on me?”
“Not the point,” Harry reminded him.
Ron huffed. “It so is the point, but I’ll let you get away with it because you’re desperate and horny.”
Harry bristled. “I’m not desperate--”
Ron clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, mate, you are. Now, when does your current project end?”
Harry sighed, conceding the argument. “It should end this week. I think Snape’s been dragging it out, though.”
“Well that’s something.” Ron hummed. “Right, once it does end you can ask him over to yours for dinner, promise some fabulous pastry treat, and serve it to him in bed.”
Harry shook his head. “That will never work.”
“Why not?”
“The first time I asked him out for coffee he said it was against regulations or something.”
Ron blinked. “No, it’s not. Look at Malfoy and Luna. They’re dating.”
“They’re both Unspeakables, though. He said something about there being rules against Aurors and Unspeakables dating.”
“I don’t remember that, and I would have known. Hermione was considering becoming an Unspeakable, remember? Trust me, if there had been any such rule, I’d know.”
Harry pursed his lips. “Wonder why he said that, then? Maybe he’s not interested--”
Ron snorted. “Trust me, he’s interested. But he’s also Snape. He’s not going to make it easy, is he? Now go down there, give your last...report--” Ron waggled his eyebrows, “and then ask him out.”
Harry nodded. It was as good a plan as any.
~
Snape accepted the last batch of soil samples, setting them on his desk. “You’ve done better than expected with this project, Potter. I’ve been able to use all the samples you’ve retrieved.”
“Good.” Harry coughed. “So I guess I won’t have an official reason to come down here every morning anymore.”
“Indeed not.” Snape’s eyes glittered. “Although I can’t say I would mind more of your culinary creations.”
Harry swallowed hard. It was as good an opening as any. “Speaking of, maybe you’d like to come to my house this evening? I’ve been experimenting with shortbread recipes and I’d like your opinion before I start making it in big batches.”
“You’re having shortbread for dinner?”
Harry laughed. “No, I’m not sure what I’m having for dinner, although if you’d like, I can make enough for two and then you can do shortbread tasting?”
Snape pursed his lips. “Your shortbread is...of interest. Very well. Shall I bring anything?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“You still live at Grimmauld Place?”
“Yes. And the Fidelius Charm is off.”
Snape smirked. “Obviously, since I was able to recall that.”
Harry grinned. “I dunno. You Unspeakables are pretty clever. I suspect you’d have known even if it was still under a charm.”
Snape inclined his head. “What are you hoping flattery will get you this evening, Potter?”
Everything, actually. Harry bit his bottom lip. “I guess time will tell. Is seven all right?”
“Acceptable.”
~
Harry made sure to leave early that day and, rushing home, cleaned up before starting dinner. From what he recalled of Snape’s eating habits while they’d been at Hogwarts, he liked roast, potatoes and veg, so Harry started that meal and, on a whim, also made a berry pie, which he set on the counter to cool.
He had just completed putting together the several shortbread variations he wanted to try to make, when the knock came at the door.
Snape stood at his threshold, looking positively edible. He wasn’t wearing robes; for a change he was in a Muggle suit, black, naturally, but his collar was undone. Harry saw a glimpse of the scars on his neck, which had healed well. He brought wine, which he handed to Harry as soon as he crossed the threshold. “You’ve...redecorated,” he said, looking around.
“I have. Do you like it?” Tucking the wine under his arm, Harry gestured towards the kitchen.
Snape snorted. “Anything would have been an improvement.”
Harry grinned. “True enough.”
They had a simple meal in the kitchen, and Snape seemed fine with it, even having a second helping. They finished the wine over berry pie, which Harry judged to be a success, since Snape finished every crumb of his large slice.
Harry had thought he’d be nervous having Snape in his home, but he wasn’t. He’d long known Snape had a wicked sense of humour and it was on display that evening as he regaled Harry with his observations of the inner workings of the Ministry.
Having already prepared several small batches of shortbread to sample, Harry slid the tray into the oven to bake once they’d finishing eating. “Right, so I have cinnamon, chocolate, honey, almond and pistachio flavoured shortbread for you to try.”
Snape hummed. “As I enjoy all of those flavours, this may not help you very much.”
Harry smiled. “If they all work, then I’ll just add them to the pastry rotation.”
Snape frowned. “About that--”
“Yes?”
“You’re still having difficulty with insomnia?” Standing up, Snape walked over to the stove, peering inside.
Biting his lip, Harry looked away. “Yeah. I mean I’ve had that problem for ages, really--”
“I can understand not sleeping well while Voldemort was around,” Snape said. “Sharing his thoughts would encourage anyone to have nightmares.”
Harry shuddered. “Oh, yes.”
Snape began pacing. “Has it occurred to you that your insomnia may be some sort of Dark hex or curse?”
Harry, checking out Snape’s arse as he walked, hummed noncommittally.
“Potter!” Snape, having spun to face him, raised an eyebrow. “Are you listening to me?”
Not really, no. “Er, yes, of course.” Blushing, Harry thought back to what Snape had asked, replaying it in his mind. “And I don’t think it’s a curse.”
“Why’s that?” Snape asked. “You live in a house where the inhabitants were known Dark Arts sympathisers. And I doubt Black had enough time to clear the place of all his parents’ Dark influence before he died. In addition, you were too busy fighting a war and then with Auror training to have had time to deal with everything that was probably here.”
“Right, but when I renovated, I had Curse-Breakers come in and sweep the place,” said Harry. “I don’t think I’ve been hexed.”
Snape drew his wand. “Nevertheless, perhaps I should do a scan. There are things they could have missed. One can never be too sure.” He raised an eyebrow. “Show me your bedroom.”
Harry blinked. He’d hoped the circumstances under which Snape would be in his bedroom would be more romantic, but-- “Er, right. Come this way.” Leading the way up the stairs, he thanked the powers that be that he had cleaned up his room in preparation for Snape’s visit. Looks like that was wishful thinking. “In here,” he said, gesturing at a door.
Nodding, Snape moved inside the bedroom cautiously. The fireplace, charmed to light itself whenever someone entered, flared to life. Snape’s wand darted towards it for a moment before dipping once again. “Stay out there,” he said. “I need to do a scan without you in the room.”
“Okay,” Harry said. He did watch Snape work from the hallway, however, again admiring the curve of his arse in his trousers.
“It’s safe to come in.” Snape was smirking at him and Harry winced, realising he’d been rather obvious in his perusal.
He coughed. “Find anything?” he asked.
Snape sounded amused as he replied, “Nothing Dark, certainly.” Putting away his wand, he hummed. “Although I see you didn’t take my advice about other ways to treat your insomnia.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
Snape nodded towards the bedside table, on which sat Harry’s wanking mag. “Experts advise that there should be nothing in your bedroom that doesn’t pertain to sleep or sex.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. Had Snape sounded a bit hoarse when he’d said that last bit? He smiled. “Maybe that mag does pertain to sex,” he said.
“Does it?” Snape pursed his lips. “It looks rather innocuous, but then, you are a wizard--” He reached for it and Harry cleared his throat. He hesitated. “Would you prefer I not look?”
Harry sighed. “Go ahead.”
Snape picked it up and began thumbing through it. One eyebrow rose. “Very...interesting.” He stopped on a well-worn page. “It seems you like dark hair.”
Harry blushed. “Yes. Anyway, as you can see, that’s...just an aid. It shouldn’t keep me up.”
Snape hummed. “If this isn’t keeping you up, Harry, then perhaps there’s a larger problem.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Was that an actual joke?”
“Impossible,” murmured Snape, closing the book and setting it back down. “It’s well known that I have no sense of humour.”
Harry snorted. “You’ve a great sense of humour.”
“Others, perhaps, would not agree with you.” Snape’s expression was intense, the look in his eyes making Harry shiver. “There is one other insomnia cure I have to suggest,” he said.
“Oh?” Harry whispered, mouth suddenly dry.
“It’s rather drastic,” said Snape, moving closer.
Harry licked his lips. “I’m rather desperate,” he admitted. “What’s your idea?”
“Find someone to have sex with.”
They were almost touching. Harry nodded. “Good idea. Know anyone who may be available?”
“In fact, I believe I do,” murmured Snape, pulling him close.
Later, Harry couldn’t have said who kissed who first, all he knew was that the moment Snape’s mouth touched his, he was lost. Snape’s tongue slid along the seam of Harry’s mouth and, when he groaned, letting him in, it was all over.
Snape gathered Harry to him, kissing him possessively, fiercely, and Harry responded, pressing his body closer and moaning as he felt the evidence of Snape’s desire against his thigh.
They stumbled towards the bed, both trying to touch each other in as many places as possible. Snape’s knees hit the back of the bed and he sat down heavily, pulling Harry in between his legs. Harry fumbled with Snape’s shirt, finally pushing it off over his shoulders even as he bent down and continued devouring Snape’s mouth with his.
As they kissed, Snape deftly undid Harry’s trousers, pulling him out and stroking him. Tearing his mouth from Snape’s, Harry arched into his touch, moaning as Snape’s thumb slowly circled the tip of his cock. Harry’s hands settled on Snape’s shoulders, pushing him back until he was sprawled on the bed. Snape sat up on his elbows, watching Harry with glittering eyes.
Panting, Harry stepped back and shucked his trousers and pants. Snape gave him a slow, appreciative once-over as he, too, finished disrobing.
Once naked, Snape scooted back onto the bed and Harry climbed on, crawling towards him before straddling him. The light reflected by the fire flickered over Snape’s skin. Reaching out, Snape curved a hand around Harry’s neck, drawing him down for a kiss.
That kiss was deep, languorous, as if they had all the time in the world. Which, as far as Harry was concerned, they did. He wasn’t about to let Snape go without a fight.
Still kissing him, Snape flipped Harry over onto his back, pressing him into the mattress. Sliding his hands over Harry, Snape raised his head. “You’re sure about this?”
Harry’s answer was to drag him down for another kiss, this one fierce and desperate. When it broke, both men were panting, and Harry, smiling faintly, spread his legs. “Definitely.”
“Lubricant,” Snape murmured, eyes blazing, and it took Harry a moment to steady himself enough to wordlessly and wandlessly Summon it. Catching it out of mid air, he handed it to Snape, who spilled it over his fingers before sliding them between Harry’s legs to nudge at his hole.
As Harry arched closer, he leaned down, sucking kisses onto Harry’s chest and stomach as he opened him with a steady, sure touch.
Hands clutching at Snape’s shoulders, Harry writhed as Snape pushed first one, then two slick fingers inside him. By the time he was open and loose, he was babbling, and Snape’s fingers were shaking. “Please...Oh God--” Harry gasped.
After slicking himself roughly, if generously, Snape drew Harry’s legs over his shoulders and, capturing Harry’s mouth in a searing kiss, guided his cock between Harry’s legs to prod at his hole. As Snape’s thumb pressed Harry’s hole open, helping his cock slide in, Harry groaned, the burn of penetration helping to hold off his orgasm.
Snape moved slowly at first, watching Harry’s face carefully, but after a few thrusts, Harry began moving his hips up to meet him and something seemed to break inside Snape. With a wild moan, he started driving inside Harry, thrusting hard, sliding over his prostate and shooting sensation up his spine with every push.
Harry was going to come soon; he could feel the pleasure rising in him, starting from the base of his spine to spread outward, warming his whole body. “I’m going to--”
“Come, Harry,” Snape whispered against his mouth, and that was it.
With a grunt, Harry’s body bucked up and he came, his cock spurting warm come between their bodies.
Snape continued thrusting, even as Harry arched up against him, digging his nails into Snape’s shoulders. It was only when Harry’s orgasm began to fade that Snape’s rhythm grew ragged.
Leaning up, Harry pressed his mouth against Snape’s, kissing him. Snape moaned into Harry’s mouth, his body going rigid as he, too, orgasmed, pouring himself into Harry’s still trembling body.
“Merlin,” Harry gasped when he could speak. “That was--”
Snape, sprawled on top of Harry, sighed before rolling off and onto his side. He still kept one leg over Harry, however. “Indeed.”
Cheered by the possessive gesture, and unable to keep his eyes open, Harry began drifting into sleep, smiling as he heard Snape’s breathing even out as well. He was still awake when he felt Snape’s hand slowly slide down his back to cup his arse.
Smiling, Harry buried his face in the curve of Snape’s shoulder. “What now?” he whispered, words slurred with exhaustion.
“Now we sleep.” Snape hummed. “And if you wake again, we try the same tactics to get you back to sleep.”
No arguments from me, thought Harry, curling closer to Snape as he was pulled into a dreamless slumber. None at all.
~
Harry woke to light streaming in through the window and to an empty bed. Disorientated, he sat up, blinking as the events of the previous evening filtered through his mind. Had Snape left before Harry could talk to him? “Fuck me,” he whispered.
“Already?”
Head popping up, Harry gaped at Snape, who walked into the room. He was naked, wiping his hands on a towel. “Snape?”
Eyebrow raised, Snape tossed the towel aside. “You were hoping for someone else?”
“No! I just--” Harry exhaled. “I’m just glad you stayed.”
“How could I not?” Sitting down on the side of the bed, Snape leaned close. “I had to be sure you slept adequately. Insomnia is not usually cured so easily.”
Harry smiled. “I slept great,” he said, smile fading as he searched Snape’s eyes. “You?”
“Quite comfortably.” Snape smiled faintly. “I wasn’t the one suffering from insomnia, however.”
“Right.” Harry frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” Glancing at the clock, his eyes widened. “Bloody hell, if I don’t hurry I’m going to be late for work!”
Snape hummed. “I doubt that. After all, how long does it take you shower and dress?”
“Not long,” Harry admitted. “But I usually bake something to take in--”
“Perhaps,” Snape murmured, “your colleagues will just have to learn to fend for themselves for breakfast for a change.”
Mentally, Harry started calculating how long it would take to bake a quick batch of biscuits. “I guess, although if I hurry I could probably still manage a little something--” His thoughts were derailed, however, when Snape pressed close, kissing him. Moaning, Harry wrapped his arms around him and responded with alacrity. When Snape finally drew back, Harry was panting, all thoughts of baking forgotten.
“You were saying?” Snape purred.
Harry grinned. “I think we need to take a shower.”
“Indeed.” Standing up, Snape extended his hand to Harry. “That’s what I thought as well.”
Showering with Snape took more time than Harry predicted, although he was certainly relaxed when they were done. He was late to work, however, and when, shoulders squared, he walked in, Ron was waiting.
“There you are!” Ron scanned him, looking for the usual pastries. “I was starting to get worried.”
“Sorry, mate.” Harry spread his hands wide. “I...overslept. No pastries today.”
“What?” Ron groaned. “But...what am I going to eat?”
Cho walked by, smirking. “Maybe you’ll finally start to eat breakfast at home before you come to work, Weasley.” She shook her head. “Honestly.”
“I eat breakfast!” Ron huffed at her retreating back. “But growing men need snacks.”
“If you grow any more you won’t be able to fit into your Auror robes,” she shot back over her shoulder.
“That bitch.” Ron patted his belly. “I’m not getting fat, am I, Harry?”
Harry smiled. “No comment.”
“Traitor.” Ron’s eyes narrowed. “Wait...You never sleep.” He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
Despite himself, Harry blushed, and Ron clapped him on his shoulder. “Merlin! You finally seduced Snape, didn’t you?” He grinned. “About time!”
“Will you shut up?” Harry hissed, looking around.
Ron snorted. “Like anyone cares who you’re sleeping with?” He paused. “Actually, I take that back. Hermione will care. And Ginny, and probably Luna, and Mum, and--”
“Are you planning to tell them?” Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“No way.” Ron chuckled. “You get to tell them. That should be fun.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Harry smiled. “In fact, maybe I can talk Sn-Severus into coming to dinner at the Burrow some weekend.” May as well get used to calling him Severus.
“You’re really serious about him, aren’t you?” At Harry’s nod, Ron sighed. “Well, you know I’ll support you. Even though now that you’re getting sleep, I’m going to have to get my pastries elsewhere.” He rolled his eyes.
“Perhaps, Auror Weasley, you will need to learn to do your own baking.”
They both froze and, wincing, Ron groaned, turning to face Snape. “Trust me, no one wants that.” He sighed. “No, I guess I’ll have to Floo Mum, let her know some extra biscuits wouldn’t be amiss.” He eyed Severus speculatively. “And maybe I’ll let her know to expect extra guests for dinner this weekend, too.” Whistling, he walked away.
Harry turned to Severus. “I hope you’re not upset that I committed you to dinner at the Burrow.” Maybe I’m moving too fast?
“If I were, you can be assured I would let you know.”
Harry nodded. “Oh, hey, a question. Why did you say there was a Ministry rule against us dating? I asked around. There’s no rule.”
“Surely you didn’t expect me to make things easy for you?” Severus purred.
Chuckling, Harry shook his head. “No I suppose not. So, just to be clear, you’ll go to the Burrow with me? There may be a bit of an interrogation.”
Severus raised an eyebrow, but his slightly amused expression made Harry relax. “I believe I can manage. Just so long as no one expects you to supply the pastries for the event,” he murmured. “I believe you will be far too busy.”
And happily, Harry was.
~