Else I'd Go Mad
by
Rating: NC-17, check warnings if you need to know more details than simply "explicit sexual content" is present in this fic.
Pairing: Snape/Ron Weasley
Word Count: 7,870
Disclaimer: All the characters are Rowling's. All the smutty scenarios are mine.
Summary: Long after the war, Snape is under investigation again by one Auror Weasley who seems to have something against the longtime Hogwart's librarian...
Warnings: highlight between brackets if you prefer story warnings: [contains: rimming, bj, buggery]
Prompt from cnary_crem_dght: Snape/Ron, Hogwarts Library, Spider, Snape is the new librarian at Hogwarts and Ron is a bit suspicious.
Author's notes: Well, Snape isn't exactly the new librarian in the story, but otherwise, I think I got most of the elements in...
Hogwarts' librarian dipped his quill into the thick green ink and began his letter to the Bergstrom estate, inquiring as to the cost of acquiring the entire contents of Bernard Bergstrom's library. The weekend edition of the Prophet had an announcement of his death, as well as notice of an estate liquidation sale. Bergstrom had been an avid ornithologist as well as a history buff and his collection would doubtless contain volumes worthy of inclusion to the Hogwarts Library.
The library was silent at the moment, but it wouldn't be for long, he knew. The last class of the day would let out and bustling, noisy, scuffling, babbling students, and worse - their inane questions would disturb his peace and quiet.
"Where can I find the book to write the Transfiguration/Ancient Runes/Divination, etc., essay on?"
Of course, they never knew the name of the book. They expected *him* to somehow know. They resented him sending them back to class with instructions to write down the name and author this time before returning.
"Er... I don't have a pass, but I need to get into the Forbidden Section, sir. It's vital to my Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. I'm sure Professor Shacklebolt would allow it."
This one was the easiest. He just ignored the idiot until he or she began shuffling his or her feet and shuffled out of the library, muttering some variation of "I guess I'd best ask the Professor then."
"Where can I find books on Transfiguration/Ancient Runes/Divination, etc.?"
This was the second easiest. An arched eyebrow and an extended finger pointing toward the simplified layout of the library printed and affixed to the bulletin board by the reference desk was all he had to do, and frankly, more than he felt the lazy little buggers deserved.
"Is there a book that can tell me how to change someone from a toad back to a person? I mean, just in case there was an accident in class?" "Is there a book to remove oozing warts from er, someone's body? I'd rather not ask Madam Pomfrey." "Is there a book that shows how to make someone's brain explode? I, uh, have an essay on good hexes to use against dark wizards."
These were the most amusing. Depending on his mood and time, he would either lend the book, the stack number it could be found in, or his assistance in removing the spell, hex, jinx or curse, as well as suggestions for less dangerous and more long-lasting forms of revenge. Most students were startled at being given able assistance, since most of the current batch had no idea of his background.
He was just Master Snape, a tall, pale, black-eyed librarian with a limp. He had been for twelve years, long enough for all those who'd known Professor Snape, the Potions Master, the traitor, the spy, the exonerated hero with war wounds whose scars he could wear with pride, to have graduated. The only ones who knew were some of the staff.
Snape had specifically asked for the job of librarian at the school after Madam Pince decided to retire. He could think of nothing so lovely as the peace and quiet to be found amongst the Hogwarts book stacks and the ability to continue his own private research. He had an arrangement with the equally bookish Professor Granger-Weasley for access to the Potions lab in exchange for priority in her book-related requests.
There were spells to sort, stack, dust and shelve books. They took but a fraction of his lunch and teatime. There were charms to repair pages and bindings and spells to compile and bind. They took up a few pleasant hours of a Sunday afternoon once a month, alone with his thoughts, some elf-made wine and the quiet music from the wizarding wireless the Headmistress had gifted him nine Christmases ago.
There were detention students who could polish the tables, push in the chairs, inventory the stacks, place fresh parchment into small stacks for note-taking, refill the inkpots, sharpen the quills, and on occasion, gather volumes he required for his own research and edification and place them on his desk. For twelve lovely years he had fallen into this routine others might find tedious, but after so many years of hiding, hunting, and being hunted, Severus Snape appreciated the value of peace and quiet. It was not boring. He even began to put meat on his long bones thanks to his now mostly sedentary vocation.
This had the effect of filling out the hollows of his face, while the years of the afternoon suns long slanted rays falling over him as he worked at his desk by the window had given him a touch more colour to his pale skin.
Having the time to do more than worry about survival and teaching and potion making and bloody Voldemort, Severus found he quite enjoyed the things he'd once claimed to disdain, mainly because he hadn't the time to enjoy them when he'd made that claim. Now he luxuriated in his tub bath nearly every night, at least until the bubbles died, and had tried each different form of shampoo the taps in his bathroom offered until he found one that, surprisingly, kept his scalp grease-free for longer than a few hours and, with continual use, made his hair soft and full. As such, his hair now reached his shoulder-blades and looked like silk when loose, although he kept it tied back with a strip of black leather most of the time, which, along with his penchant for a well-cut wardrobe, and long, straight back, gave him a rakish air.
Unfortunately, whilst all this had increased his self-esteem, it had also led to what became his least favourite sort of encounter with the students.
"Baldric Bandwise's Guide To Erotic Dreams appears to be checked out, Master Snape. I'm *quite* sure you can help me, though. You see, I've been having these *terribly* erotic dreams..."
Fortunately, comments like this one only seemed to come at the end of the year after the unfortunate, hormone-riddled student had plucked up enough courage to obliquely (they thought) proposition him. It had begun about three years into the job and was nearly always a fourth, sometimes a fifth year girl. This particular year there had been two, one fifth year girl who had asked him on a dare just before Christmas hols, just to be different. The other had been a seventh year girl and her proposition had taken place just last week, right after NEWTs, which Snape had chalked up to extreme giddiness from relief of stress as well as the fact that she wouldn't have to see him again in a week. She had not appreciated this observation and had left not in tears, but in a fury. Severus appreciated the lack of tears; crying students always made him a bit uneasy.
Snape also appreciated the propositions in an odd way. They boosted his much-battered ego and raised his uneven sense of self-esteem.
He'd had exactly *one* proposition when he'd been a Potions Master. It happened his very first year and it had so, respectively, terrified and angered him, that his ensuing icy fury and chilly demeanor had successfully frightened off any interested parties when they were still in their first year ever after.
Aside from which he'd had no time back then, beholden to the Headmaster and later to Voldemort and bogged down with teaching and brewing and patrolling duties besides. He'd barely had time to toss-off, much less conduct an affair.
Now he had the time, but he also had integrity. He would not have a liaison with an underage student. If the student were of age, he'd consider it on a case-by-case basis... after they graduated. For now, he did not dare hope for anything else, but he did have some very nice dreams that introduced him to various nameless lovers and always left him feeling both rueful and bemused.
Thanks to his past notoriety, not to mention his extremely private nature, he did not seek out attention, did not frequent pubs and only went to Hogsmeade for supplies or in the company of another staff member. He only went to Diagon Alley once a year and then only to see his tailor, get measured and get a new summer or winter robe and a few shirts and trousers. Most supplies, and especially any questionable potion ingredients or other contraband, he owl-ordered and had sent to his own residence.
He had a set of small quarters in the castle at Headmistress McGonagall's insistence, but he still Floo'd to Spinner's End every weekend during the school year. He did go to the local Muggle pub there. On occasion, he had idly considered taking someone home, usually during the summer, when the days were warm and the hormones were high. Since even the thought of such an encounter left him feeling vaguely guilty and disquieted, though, he never did.
Which, he knew, was ridiculous of him. He was a fifty-one year old wizard with just his hand for sexual congress, which made him an anomaly. Wizards lived nearly twice as long as Muggles, and a wizard of a hundred and fifty had the general health and physical capacity of a Muggle of seventy-five. So a wizard of fifty had the sexual drive of a twenty-five year old.
Wizard males had an extended puberty; this being the reason some wizards, like Arthur Weasley and his wife, got married and had large families so early in life. Plus, with marriage came the boon of a presumably loving partner, which meant a wizard could enjoy the golden years that followed his extended puberty, the years of his sexual prime, without restraint.
Snape had only just entered the golden years of his sexual prime and all he could say for it was that he had a pleasant, peaceful job, and that his hands were getting well exercised.
More than once in the last few years, Severus had found himself studying his image in the mirror and considering his walk, his sweeping style, his hand gestures, his well-cut clothes, the sharp creases of his jacket and trousers, the snugness of the fabric around his bum and basket, his close, clean shave and tidy pony-tail, the faint touch of kohl that he darkened the edge of his eyelids with (purely to cut back glare, of course) and wondered if it would be worth the slight loss to his dignity to be even more overt about his sexual orientation and if there were any homosexuals left in the Wizarding world.
~(*)~
The next morning he arrived early at the library to find a note from the Headmistress on his desk. It asked for his presence in her office as soon as he arrived, so he relocked and rewarded the library and made his way there, wondering why he was needed.
On knocking and receiving permission to come in, he noted two red-robed men, Aurors by their outfits, who stood up as he entered. His expression did not change aside from a slight widening of his eyes as he recognized them. He inclined his head.
"Auror Potter. Auror Weasley."
"Snape." This from Potter. Weasley said nothing, merely staring at him as if he'd grown another head.
Snape pressed his lips, ignoring the younger man's look and turned toward Minerva. "Good morning, Headmistress. You asked to see me?"
She smiled at him and nodded, gesturing for him to come closer and take the chair by her desk. The two Aurors had been sitting before her desk, much as students did when called, he was amused to note as he took the proffered chair.
"This is regarding a complaint, Severus, filed at the Ministry."
He frowned. "A complaint?"
Harry's lips thinned with distaste and he looked to Ron, but he said nothing, missing his cue to speak and Snape studied him now with interest.
The red robe clashed horribly with that hair, which looked gorgeously thick and wavy, falling to his shoulders. It also made him look a touch peaky, but Snape noted that in the light of the window Minerva had made the castle provide her, his colour was actually quite good - a tawny tan that brought out amber glints in his warm, turquoise eyes. Eyes that were staring at him with intense interest, which made Snape a little uneasy since he'd learnt early on that interest from an Auror was almost never a good thing.
"Ron?" Harry prompted.
Weasley blinked. "Aye? Oh, yeah. Um... one of the seventh years has filed a complaint and the Ministry sent us to check on it. Amelia Aventurine."
Snape scowled a little, sighing. It figured. Amelia Aventurine was the last student who had propositioned him.
"You know her?"
He nodded at Potter. "Yes. She... propositioned me last week. I turned her down."
"She propositioned you?"
Now he nodded at Weasley. "Yes. The second proposition this year."
Harry frowned. "Who was the first?"
"A fifth year girl by the unfortunate name of Annabelle Duwell."
McGonagall tittered a little and the Aurors turned to her. She waved a hand in apology.
"I'm sorry, Harry, Ron, but... Miss Duwell has propositioned every male on staff. I think she has a bet going with one of the other girls. I'm afraid Hagrid was quite scandalized."
Harry chuckled at this and Ron shook his head. "What is it with kids these days? I don't think any of our class was that bold."
"No, you were too busy being chased by three-headed dogs, slaying basilisks, finding escaped convicts, breaking into the Ministry and flying cars into rare trees."
Harry laughed outright, but Ron glared at him. "Look here, Snape - things were different when we were at school."
"Yes, I do recall that Mr. Weasley. I was there."
"Yeah, well, none of our girls went around asking out professors."
"No, they were rather busy being chased after by the likes of yourself and Blaize Zabini and Cormac McLaggen."
"Oh, so what are you saying, Snape? You would've wanted their interest for yourself?"
Snape crossed his arms on his chest, nettled.
"I neither said nor implied that at all, Auror Weasley. You appear to have come here believing you already know the answers to your inquiry. If you want to question me, please do so without making these ridiculous insinuations."
"Fine," Ron snapped. "Did anyone hear Miss Aventurine proposition you?"
Snape rolled his eyes. "Of course not. She asked when I was about to close the library, as they usually do in those situations."
"Usually? How many propositions do you get?" Harry sounded a little taken aback.
"He reports them to me, Harry," Minerva interjected. "And I can safely state that Severus gets about two such propositions a year."
Harry nodded, but Ron sat forward. "Ever act on any of them?"
"Certainly not!"
"You sound defensive, mate," Weasley replied a bit smugly.
"That's hardly surprising, Mister Weasley, since you seem to insist on putting me in the position of defending myself."
"Ron," Harry looked at his partner. "It's just an inquiry."
"Right," Ron agreed. "A preliminary inquiry unless we find something."
Snape sighed. "Do you plan on finding something, Weasley?"
"My investigations are thorough, Snape. And that's Auror Weasley to you."
Snape smiled thinly. "And that's Master Snape, to you, Auror Weasley."
~(*)~
Snape led the two men down to the library, taking out his wand to unlock and unward the doors and then headed for his desk.
"It hasn't changed a bit," Harry noted, sighing with fondness. Ron grunted.
"I couldn't say."
"Considering the quality of your student essays, Auror Weasley, your ignorance in this area comes as little surprise."
"You belt it, Snape, or else we'll conduct this inquiry at the Ministry, see if we don't."
"Ron."
"Well, you heard him. He'd better not start acting all high and mighty with us or we'll take him in."
Snape manoeuvred behind his desk to face the two red-robed men, more amused at Weasley's attitude than perturbed; the man was far too easy to provoke.
"On what charges?"
Ron scowled. "We have enough to take you in if we wanted to. So far--"
"It's my word against hers, if you discount the Headmistress's answers to your inquiry thus far."
"Yeah, well, she didn't say you didn't proposition Miss Aventurine."
Harry cleared his throat. "Ron. Minerva did tell us she trusted Snape not to do such a thing."
Ron sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. "We're supposed to be investigating him, Harry. What's with you?"
Harry frowned now. "What's wrong with you, Ron? This isn't a criminal case. No charges were filed, just a complaint."
Snape did not care what bug was bothering the Auror; he just thought it was a pity such an attractive man was so damn unpleasant. If it wasn't for his attitude, he might have enjoyed admiring the tall redhead and his impressive physique.
He asked now, "What happens in the case of a complaint?"
The two turned to look at Snape again and Harry shrugged a little. "Well, we keep it on file with our own report on our investigation."
"For how long?"
Ron narrowed his eyes. "It just stays in your official file."
"Doubtless to be buried with the other voluminous documents there," he muttered, no longer caring. He turned to look at his tidy list of duties on his desk calendar. He made a new one at the end of each day for the next day.
"Hm. Well, gentlemen, if that is going to be all, I must attend my duties now. School lets out end of this week and I'd like not to have to remain any extra days beyond the necessary."
Harry was nodding, about to step out when Ron stepped closer to the desk. "No, it's not all. I'm going to be keeping an eye on you."
"Ron?"
Weasley made a dismissive gesture to his partner. "Go on, Harry. If you want to head back that's fine, but I'm staying here until I'm satisfied."
Potter seemed uncertain about this, studied Weasley and then looked at Snape before making up his mind. "Well... I'll see you later then."
"Right."
Harry walked out and Ron moved to sit at one of the tables, facing the desk, ostensibly to keep his eyes on Snape, who merely sighed.
~(*)~
It might have been all right if Weasley had kept sitting at the table. It might have been all right if he hadn't removed his robes. Weasley, however, decided to stretch his long legs and had stood up, removed his robes and revealed a sinuous, well-muscled body covered only in a soft, oatmeal-coloured, short sleeve shirt and brown cords, snug and low on fine hip bones.
Severus managed to remain expressionless as he watched Ron turn and walk about a bit before deciding to perch himself on a corner of the counter by the reference desk, still across from Snape's desk, knees akimbo.
This afforded Snape a very good view of the enticing bulge Auror Weasley was unconsciously displaying. His dark lashes fluttered down and he forced his attention back to his note taking, with only occasional hooded-eyed glances to the lounging Ron. Still, it was enough to keep him uncomfortably hard most of the morning. It would happen to him; finding one of the most aggressively heterosexual men in the Wizarding world attractive.
Ron Weasley probably wasn't even available. He hadn't kept track of any of his old students, save a few Slytherins and a couple of Ravenclaws who had gone on to apprentice in Potions. So he had no idea, but considering his brother's antics, thought it likely the Auror was married and making the next generation of Hogwarts students. Minerva had mentioned the birth of another set of Weasley twins at breakfast the other day, in fact.
It was nearing elevenses when Miss Aventurine stepped into the library. Snape hoped Weasley did not know what she looked like and that she would do or say whatever she intended to and leave quickly.
She stepped up to his desk and he studied her without comment. She finally spoke.
"I want to apologize for what happened last week, sir. I think it was like you said, the stress of finals and all. I'm sorry if I caused you any distress."
Severus forced back a sigh and merely nodded. "I appreciate your apology, Miss Aventurine. Am I to take it your complaint to the Department of Ministries is going to be retracted?"
She grew beet red and put her hands to her face, even as Ron stepped up, curious about their exchange.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot about that. I must have been mad."
"Excuse me, are you Amelia Aventurine?"
She shrieked slightly at Ron's quiet question upon turning to see the tall, burly Auror just behind her.
"Oh, dear! Oh... yes, I am."
"Were you just apologizing to Snape?"
She nodded, still red-faced and eyes suspiciously bright.
"I.. I was just... oh, crikey!" She ran out of the library in tears.
Snape sighed and Ron frowned at her exit.
"What did you say to her?" He finally asked.
"I thought you could hear."
"Only parts."
"I told her I appreciated her apology and was wondering if she was going to retract her complaint. Had she said yes, I would have pointed her in your direction, Auror Weasley."
Ron nodded, now, looking oddly troubled, but he merely said, "I'd best check on her. Er... well... sorry about the, er... inconvenience."
Snape frowned now, but said nothing as he watched the tall, well-built young man step out and finally sighed and turned to make himself a pot of tea for his break.
~(*)~
When he'd finished clearing the library of students that evening, Snape headed down the stacks, waving his wand and casting the reshelving charm for each section.
As he made his way back to the desk, he was surprised to see Ron standing there, looking a bit diffident.
"How can I help you, Mister Weasley? Was another proposition made?"
Ron frowned. "No. Actually, I... I came to apologize."
"There is no need, and I do believe you apologized before you left earlier."
Ron shrugged. "That was for taking your time."
"You've nothing else to apologize for, I assure you."
Ron disagreed. "No, really. I jumped to conclusions and that's not solid work ethic. I... I shouldn't have done it."
Snape did not refute this, but was disinclined to be vindictive.
"No doubt it was an off day."
"Well, a bit. The whole week really. First Percy and Penelope having twins two days ago, my mother's on the bubble again now about me being the only one in the family not married... Well, I've been working harder, taking on more cases to keep busy, but it's been quiet, case-wise and so I sort of glommed onto the complaint when it came. Harry was glad. He thinks I've been working too hard; thought it'd be nice to visit, deal with a quiet case. I just figured it'd give me some time here at Hogwarts."
"So you could get to the bottom of it, maybe find something new on me?" It wasn't really a question and Ron blushed a little.
"Well... Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well... let's just say I'd hoped. I always said a poisonous mushroom can't change its spots and when you were exonerated..."
"Rather like the mushroom, it left a bad taste, did it?" Snape sighed. It seemed his past always caught up with him one way or another.
"I was a bit tired of Hermione rubbing it in at the time."
Snape nodded, leaning against one of the tables now. "Yes, I admit to no small amount of chagrin at being her new cause du jour at the time."
"You don't know the half of it, "Ron admitted with a smile. "It wasn't just her working on your behalf, but the name she gave her group that split us up for good."
Snape's lips quirked but he said nothing. He still had a few C.H.E.S.S. badges in his drawer. The picture of him she'd used for it -- his image from the Hogwarts staff photo the year he'd last been on the teaching staff -- was one he was pleased with, so her chosen title for the group seeking his acquittal hadn't irked as much as it might. The Coalition to Help Exonerate Severus Snape had been a success with the press. "Grand C.H.E.S.S. move Saves Snape From Checkmate" had been the Prophet banner the day he'd been exonerated.
"I tell a lie," Ron suddenly muttered, interrupting Severus's reverie.
"Pardon?"
"I, er... I said the name Hermione gave her group was what split us up for good. That's not the entire truth. I... um..."
"Didn't care for her stealing your thunder?"
Ron flushed, annoyed. "No. She's smart. Deserves all the kudos she gets."
"There was someone else, then?" Snape sounded bored; the trivial yet complicated love lives of the students was a constant at the school. He had no reason to believe it didn't remain so after they graduated.
Fortunately, though, it stays far from me. *Usually*.
He gave Ron a hooded eyed look and was intrigued to see the Auror blush.
"I-I'm gay. Actually."
Snape sat down on the table now, face expressionless, but realization sifting through. Of course.
"You... care for Potter."
It wasn't a question and Ron didn't deny it, blush increasing. "He doesn't know. No one does. Except you. Now."
"Well, Weasley. You came to this realization over a decade ago, there's been plenty of time to work around it."
"It's not that simple. Harry's got Ginny and their kids now. I'd never do anything to interfere."
"Noble, but I was referring to finding someone else, someone more available to bestow your affections upon."
"I-is that what you did?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Ron held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Sorry. I don't mean to make you mad, but... I read the transcripts of your interrogations by the ministry last year, the ones that were done right after the first war."
Snape's icy expression did not recede and Ron explained, "They're required reading when you become a senior Auror, see."
Snape stood now, angry. "So this whole 'visit' today was a farce. You and Potter already knew I wasn't guilty in that complaint. You were just winding me up!"
Ron shook his head desperately. "No! Really Snape. I... I just... I hoped to see how you'd done it."
His frown grew at this non sequitur. "How I did what?"
Ron's broad shoulders drooped.
"How you... changed to... to liking girls."
He sat across from Snape, a crestfallen expression.
"I'm knackered, Snape. I heard you were propositioning girls and well... I'm lonely and tired and I hoped you had an answer. That you found an answer."
Snape considered this, and then sat back down.
"Why didn't you just ask? Why the vigil all morning?"
Ron winced. "Not easy, is it? Telling someone else you're bent. And you're not the easiest person to talk to, you know."
"A carefully cultivated persona. I don't suffer fools gladly."
"Now there's something we have in common."
"We're also both bent."
"Yeah, well, I figured that went without saying."
"Which is what lead us to these straits." Snape paused, considering his words. "Weasley, I'm no good as a counselor. I may have been head of Slytherin House, but heart-to-hearts weren't my specialty. I tended to tell students what I'm about to tell you: cultivate friends - friends you trust. Cultivate other sorts of friendships, as well, but people you can confide in are priceless. Treasure them. Listen to their advice and if it sounds wise, take it. If it doesn't, don't take them as counsel, but keep them as friends you can talk to. Sometimes just talking things out can be of help."
Weasley nodded. "Good advice."
"I try."
The Auror stood. "Well... I guess there's nothing further."
His eyes were not merely sad, but haunted. Too many years, holding in a secret too long, all alone and with no one to confess to. Snape knew how this felt.
Despite his better judgment, he spoke now. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation in more congenial surroundings."
Ron looked up at this, startled, but his expression of pleasure made Snape's stomach twist a little.
"Oh! Sure. Um... Leaky Cauldron? Hog's Head? Um..."
"My quarters are on the fifth floor. I have a few things to do yet before I can lock up, but I was planning on dining in. You are welcome to join me."
"Oh." Ron suddenly seemed very unsure of himself, but he finally nodded. "Sure. I'll uh... read something until you're ready to go."
~(*)~
If Ron was expecting ultra-Slytherin decor, he was disappointed.
Snape's quarters were cozy, a blazing fire, golden wood, faded moss and cream furnishings, and several brown and orange woven rugs gave it all a warm feeling. The walls were devoid of ornament or painting and a large window looked out over the greenhouses.
Ron felt immediately comfortable, as if he had come to visit one of his brothers. The feeling gave him pause.
"Nice rooms."
"I like them."
Snape said nothing else and headed toward a small dining area where a heavy oak table and sturdy chairs waited.
"Tap your wand on the table and tell the elves what you'd like to eat." He pulled out his own wand and tapped the table. "Roast duck. Rice. Haricots verts. Elf-made wine, rose. And treacle tart."
He put his wand away as he went to a stand in the corner where he removed his robes and hung them on a peg. He turned, expecting to hear Ron ordering but was taken aback by his expression.
Ron Weasley was staring at Severus as if he was the most scrumptious looking dish he'd ever seen... and he was a starving man.
The look went straight to his lower belly where it grew warm and then pooled lower still. Snape moved to sit.
"You look amazing," Ron managed, blinking.
Snape's lips quirked as his dinner twinkled into view.
"Your candor is appreciated. However, I'd suggest you order so that we may dine."
"Huh? Oh. Sure. Um... I'll have what he's having," Ron tapped the table.
To Snape's surprise, the same dish soon appeared on Ron's side of the table. He wondered just how much the Hogwarts' House Elves monitored the staff.
"Wow. I haven't had duck in ages. Not since last Christmas. This is delicious."
"The food is definitely a fine bonus of working at Hogwarts," Severus agreed, chewing genteelly at a tender morsel of duck.
"I'd say. I'll keep that in mind if I should ever want to teach."
"What would you teach?"
"Defence, of course. As an Auror, I'm fully qualified to teach it."
"If Kingsley ever decides to step down, which I'm not sure he will. He adores teaching and the students adore him."
"I bet he's amazing. I'd have loved to have a Defence teacher like him when I was here. All we got were freaks, weirdoes, vindictive hags and layabouts, excepting Remus, that is."
Snape paused to sip at his wine, allowing the slight burn to soothe him before speaking. "Which category did I fall under, I wonder?"
Ron suddenly flushed. "Oh! I didn't mean you! I--"
Severus waved away his concerns. "Just winding you up. I take your point, however. That was the reason I kept asking for the position. You needed to be prepared. You were untrained, unprepared for what you'd be facing, and worse-- you were Potter's nearest and dearest. Those who would be standing by him, like as not, at the moment of crisis. It remains my greatest regret; not to have been able to help prepare you any more, any earlier, any better."
"Your classes were hard, but you did show us a lot. The training in non-verbal magic was helpful."
"Yes, well," Snape sighed. "I'm glad something I taught was of use."
"Not just use. It saved lives. I know for a fact that Parvati, Remus and Tonks wouldn't be here if it wasn't for having learnt non-verbal spells."
Snape inclined his head, ostensibly to take in a bit more rice and duck. "As I said, I'm glad something I taught was of use."
Ron said nothing, studying him now. It was different from the way he'd been studying him that morning; less intensity, but more perceptivity, even a touch of... recognition?
As if he'd been reading his thoughts, Ron put his wine glass down and said softly, "We're a lot alike you and I. We both downplay our strengths. We both are uncomfortable with the limelight, even when we seek it."
Severus sighed. "Perhaps that is because whenever the limelight is on us, it's there not to shine light on our glory but on our folly."
"Could be." Ron shifted uneasily. "I... I really am sorry about this morning, Snape. I should've said something sooner. I just didn't know how."
He nodded. "Under the circumstances, Ron, perhaps you should call me Severus."
The Auror was surprised. "Oh. Yeah, sure. I, uh, never thought I'd be calling you by your first name."
"As for this morning, I'm just as glad to let it out of my mind. Forgetting, I've found, is far easier than forgiving, and when it comes to peace of mind, is just as beneficial."
"That's just it. I'm sorry you have anything to forgive me for. It was stupid. I was stupid. I don't know why I've let things go on for so long. My family has no idea. Not even Harry. I don't know how to ever tell them."
"Then don't."
Ron blinked as he stared at Severus. "Pardon?"
"I said don't. Nothing says you have to. Nothing at all. You are a grown wizard, an Auror, with a mind and will of your own. In short, you are an adult and no one has any right to tell you what to do or who to see or where to go. If someone does not like your choices, they remain in the end, your choices. No one said they had to like them and no one says you have to live up to anyone else's expectations. In the end, no one has to live with your choices, but you. So make ones you're comfortable with, ones that suit you. When the end comes, Ron, you won't regret not spending enough time working, believe me. Your regrets will inevitably be about what you loved to do that you didn't spend enough time doing and who you loved that you didn't spend enough time being with."
Ron considered all this and looked troubled. "So... you think I should live a lie then? Not say anything, see who I please and keep it to myself?"
"Believe me, it won't stay a secret for long with the family you have. What I'm saying is that you won't have to tell them. Did anyone have to tell your mother Charlie and Hermione were together?"
Ron frowned and shook his head. "Did anyone have to tell her Potter and your sister were together?"
"No."
"Mothers know. Trust me on that."
"Did your mother know?"
Snape stilled, then he sighed and sipped more wine, setting down his fork. Finally, he nodded, but he said nothing at all.
"D-did... did she... did her feelings change? I mean... for you?"
Severus leveled a sloe, liquid gaze at him and finally said softly, "The answer to that question is both private and complicated. If you are asking because you are not sure of your own mother's response to your sexual orientation, Ron, then it is quite clear you underestimate Molly Weasley. She would no more stop loving one of her children than she would cut off her leg and use it as a bludger bat. If you can't see that, then you don't belong as an Auror because you are blind."
Snape set his glass down as he finished and stood, leaving the table and heading toward a cabinet near a door and retrieving a bottle of brandy and a snifter. He poured himself a measure and headed for the chair by the fire, leaving the cabinet open in silent permission.
Ron did not get a drink, but he closed the cabinet and turned to look at the gleaming black hair that was all he could see of Snape in the chair.
"Maybe... maybe I should go."
Snape sipped at his drink and Ron watched the languid hand holding the snifter rest on the arm of the chair, the fire making the liquid in it glint as it swirled.
"Maybe."
Snape's voice sounded odd. Ron quietly stepped closer.
"Do you want me to go?"
The silence that met this was long and punctuated with the crackling of the fire.
"The more appropriate question, Ron, is what would I like."
Ron blinked. "Fine. What would you like, Severus?"
Snape swallowed the rest of the contents of his snifter and set the glass down on the small table by him.
"I'd like to drink more than that without pain. I'd like not to have to drink because of pain. I'd like a million galleons in my account. I'd like to travel to Italy. I'd like to be your age again without this monstrosity on my left arm for people to judge me by. I'd like to have had friends when I was in school, or even just one friend that had no expectations of me beyond being a friend. I'd like very much for you to take me into the other room and fuck me senseless. I'd like an undocumented time turner and the ability to be an animagus. I'd like to shut up now, but I guess since I never get what I want, I should count my other blessings instead."
Ron found himself stepping forward, unable to say anything, unable to even think of what to say. Instead, he found his large strong fingers reaching for those gleaming strands. He'd been wanting to touch them since that morning when he'd seen Severus Snape for the first time in years and his mouth had gone dry at the sight.
His hand settled gently on his head and Snape suddenly stood, wand drawn. He eyed Ron, who put his hands back down, face reflecting his disappointment and distress, and he put his wand back down.
"Reflex," was all Severus said as he slipped his wand back in his pocket.
Ron nodded. "They're good."
Then he stepped in even as Snape stepped closer and suddenly they were kissing, tasting, biting, licking and sucking, hands holding each others faces as mouths explored mouths and cheekbones and necks and ears. Ron had never tasted, never felt anything quite so intoxicating. He had never done this before at all, and he hoped now that Severus would not be disappointed.
Ron felt his hand being taken and then he was being unceremoniously led to the door by the cabinet and into a dark room where his clothes were suddenly being removed. A gasp met the revelation of his chest... and his tattoo.
Severus's long, cool fingers reached to touch the amazingly intricate design.
A large spider web stretched across the Auror's chest and belly. Over his heart, a deadly looking arachnid was poised. When Snape touched the web, it flexed a little and the spider unfurled itself and moved toward the disturbance. Snape was nonplussed.
"This is quite a striking design," he murmured.
Ron shrugged a little, embarrassed. "Well, it was Harry's idea."
"Potter?"
"Aye. He... he suggested we both get tattoos of things we're afraid of. Sort of to ward those things off, make them... make them work for us instead of against us."
"You're afraid of spiders?"
Ron nodded. "You should see the designs Harry has."
"He's more than one tattoo?"
Ron nodded again. "Oh, aye. He's got a Hungarian horntail, a basilisk and a Dementor."
Snape nodded now. "I'm glad to hear he doesn't have one of the Dar-- of You Know Who."
"Who do you think the Dementor is sucking the soul out of?"
Severus raised a brow, but did not comment on this. Instead, he gave Ron a look that made his hairs stand on end, then Snape's warm, sturdy body slipped gracefully down onto the thick rug and those long fingers slipped to Ron's waistband and Ron could not think or speak or do anything besides shudder as his hard, bulky cock was suddenly taken in hand and tongued, then sipped, then sucked.
His hands slid to Severus's hair again and this time Snape let him do what he wished, luxuriating in the feel of those lustrous strands of soft, heavy black running between his fingers.
A single finger slid beneath his bollocks, pressing the space behind them and Ron's hips jerked, and a strangled hiss emerged from his throat as his orgasm struck without warning.
"Oh, gods..."
Ron blinked to clear his vision to find Severus leaning on one hand on the rug, looking dazed before him. He felt a bit awkward now, shirtless, with his heavy cock damp and limp against his thigh, and Snape still fully dressed.
"Forgive me. I... I didn't mean to go quite so fast. It's..."
"It's been too long," Ron finished and smiled as Snape nodded emphatically.
"Much. And... I hope I haven't ruined our evening."
Ron's smile widened. "Nah. I'll be raring to go again soon. Most days I, um... well... I come more than once."
Severus looked up at this. "Then we have something else in common."
"You come more than once a day?"
"Frankly, it's necessary, else I'd go mad. However, I was referring to the fact that we both indulge in self gratification."
"Oh! Well... it's sort of required. If I didn't, I don't think I could walk right the next day. It's pretty bad at my age, but then you ought to remember."
"I do. I'm not that far off it myself. I'm only fifty one."
Ron nodded. "Aye. Dad said he only just got going when he was fifty or so. He had the same drive, even more sometimes, he said, but more control of it."
"Something to look forward to then."
"Uh... should we...?" Ron gestured at the bed with his chin.
Snape held his hand up and Ron took it and helped him stand. He did not let Severus go, pulling him gently toward the bed.
~(*)~
To Snape's surprise, Ron did not require instruction. The Auror had a dozen years of imagining just what he would do and it served him well now. He finished undressing them both, then lay Snape back atop his bedspread, admiring what he could see of his body in the dim room.
He asked for lubrication which Snape summoned and once he had the jar conveniently by his side and had Severus spread his legs, Ron waved his wand and levitated him into an awkward, if arousing, pose. Snape had been wondering how they would achieve his favourite position, face to face, without aggravating his hip injury from the war, but this, this was perfect.
Severus found himself hovering, face up and head down, hair brushing the surface of the bed, arse up a good two and a half feet, bollocks brushing Ron's jaw.
"Ye gods."
"Let me. I've wanted to do this for ages."
Ron said nothing further, merely spreading Snape's legs a bit more and licking along the cleft of his butt cheeks.
Snape quivered and Ron used strong, but gentle fingers to spread those cheeks and delved deeper with nose and tongue, filling his senses with that ripe, musky scent and fulfilling one of his fantasies to thoroughly eat a man out.
No fold went unattended, no wrinkle of flesh ignored. That strong tongue found every surface and even his teeth gently bit along the edges of his cleft, causing Snape to buck and moan. Saliva dripped to saturate the bed and Severus was crying out wordlessly when Ron finally had enough.
Then he opened the jar and pulled out a thick glob of lubricant with both hands and gently began to probe Severus's puckered opening.
Gasps encouraged him and he worked a finger slowly inside, even as his other hand kneaded the slippery goo over those weighty bollocks and along that straining cock. Severus moaned and tried to thrust.
Ron stuck another finger in and gently twisted them this way and that. Soon Severus was writhing, crying out his name over and over and Ron pulled his fingers out and ran his hand along his own aching length before kneeling up and fitting his cock head to that wet, glistening opening.
"Ron..." Severus moaned pleadingly, and he slid inside.
They both cried out at the sensation, so good, so smooth, so hot and tight and close.
Ron held onto those slim hips as he began to thrust, first gently then harder and soon he was pounding into that tight, greedy arse, hoping he was fulfilling Severus's expressed desire.
Since the sounds coming from Snape's mouth no longer held any resemblance to words with the exception of Ron's name, he thought it was entirely possible. He reached for that straining cock now, to stroke it.
Severus cried out and suddenly clenched up, clenched tight, and Ron felt the cock he held contract and groaned as he watched it begin to spurt thick strings of warm semen everywhere. The feeling was incredible as Severus continued to clench, twisting slightly each time, his arse squeezing Ron's cock like an insistent fist.
It was too much and Ron shouted as he began to come, hard, deep inside of Snape's arse.
~(*)~
"Well, Ron? You said this morning that you were going to stay here until you were satisfied. Are you?"
The Auror lay splayed out on the bed, appearing dazed.
"Pardon?"
"Do you need one?" Snape was amused.
"What the bloody hell did I just do?"
"Dear me, I thought you had learnt about that before puberty struck. What are parents teaching their children these days?" Snape waved his wand and cleansed them both, then the bed, and reached for his nightgown.
"Oh, belt it, you. I can't believe I... we... shite."
"Actually, neither of us did that, and I'm afraid if scat is a turn-on for you, you'll have to go elsewhere," Snape murmured, buttoning up with admirable grace and lack of haste. "However, if good solid buggering, sucking and the occasional handjob will suffice, your presence here... and in my house... would not go amiss."
Ron considered this.
"You're on, Severus."
Snape settled beside him, punching his pillow into a suitable shape before resting his head.
"If you please, but not until the morning. I need my sleep."
"I'll hold you to that."
"Sounds like a very pleasant obligation, indeed. Good night, Ron."
Ron Weasley sighed contentedly and turned to snuggle up behind Severus.
"Sweet dreams, Severus."
He smiled as a soft snore answered.
A/N:
Happy All Hallow's!
~ FIN ~
Posted: 31 Oct 2006