Author: Athea (
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Title: The Child of Love, part four
Date: 29 December 2001

I awoke with a start from what might have been a bad dream except for my valiant protector. The one who kept watch and woke me with a kiss. Harry was murmuring my name over and over while he tongued washed my face as tenderly as any mother cat did for her kittens.

"Severus, you taste so good that I may give up my favorite chocolate frogs for you." He licked beneath my ear and I felt my groin twitch.

"It will be ... ah ... difficult for you to indulge in me ... oh," I shuddered all the way down to my toes when he gently bit my earlobe.

He stopped to make sure that it was a good 'oh' before grinning and moving on down my neck, my unclothed neck. How in the world had he talked me into removing my clothes? My short-term memory seemed to be faulty. Or maybe it was just my willpower that was failing miserably against such a wholehearted seduction?

"Sev, what are the faint ridges I keep feeling?"

The innocent question quelled any swelling that might have started. "Harry ..." how do you tell someone that the ridges were whip marks that had finally healed after repeated sessions with my good friend Dumbledore? "Souvenirs of Voldemort."

Silence then what might have been a tear dropped on my skin, "Bastard, I wish ..."

"I know. So do I." I let my hand stroke the soft dark hair on the bowed head. "They don't hurt anymore. It was a long time ago."

"It's the scars on the inside that still hurt." Those bright green eyes were intent on mine. "They're the ones that we need to heal so we can love each other."

Out of the mouths of babes, I shivered. "I don't know if they can be healed. I was in therapy with a healer-mage for almost two years when I returned from exile."

"Did you blame Dumbledore for sending you to Him?"

Oh, now that was perceptive. "At first, when Voldemort started the special lessons, I wished with all my heart that Dumbledore would sweep in and save me. But it just got harder and harder until I gave up hope of ever being free again. And I did blame him for sacrificing me to the Dark. But it wasn't his fault."

"No, but it wasn't your fault either. When you left his study the first time and said that you wouldn't be a ... a whore for the Light, that was the first time he realized what He had done to you." Harry's finger was tracing each small ridge as if it were a magic maze with a treasure in the center. "I wish he had rescued you before Voldemort hurt you so badly. I wish I could go back in time and save you."

"The past is just that ... the past. I try not to think about it although the nightmares bring the memories back." I found my hand stroking his hair like I would a cat. It was so soft and silky that I had the odd thought that I'd like it to be longer so I could feel it against my skin.

But before that thought could take hold an electric shock hit my body and I jerked hard. Harry's head came up frowning. "Did I hurt you?"

"What?" I looked down and found his fingers soothing my nipple. "What did you do?"

"The book said that nipples are erogenous zones. I just kissed one." He looked guilty and I grasped his hand to bring it to my lips.

"It just startled me, you did not hurt me. Let me think a moment." For the first time, I sent my mind back to my first lessons to see why that caress was so shocking. When the memory came, I closed my eyes and trembled. "He would twist them hard until I bled, then chastise me when I cried."

He nodded then gently touched the one over my heart. "Open your eyes, Sev. Watch me, Severus. See me, not Him."

I held onto his hand and watched that dark head slowly lean in and a pink tongue very gently touch my nipple. It still felt like an electric shock but somehow not as bad. This was Harry touching me, not a dark specter from my past. "Keep reminding me, Harry."

"You've got it, Sev. I like the way you taste. Maybe some chocolate syrup right about," he switched nipples, "here."

Odd, those shocks were starting to feel quite pleasant.

And there was a definite twitch of interest in my groin. I would not think beyond the next few moments, although I was beginning to wonder what it would be like to explore him this way. Perhaps all those nerve endings weren't dead after all. Gentle lapping felt so good that I almost closed my eyes but it was too astonishing to see that dark head so close to my own skin.

His hands moved gently over me, following the ridges and smoothing his caring healing over each and every scar. What in the world had I done to deserve this attention? I felt unexpected tears well and I squeezed tight to keep them from falling. He sensed my distress and slid up into my arms, holding me close and kissing my throat.

"We have plenty of time, Sev." Harry said simply and I returned his embrace.

"I think perhaps it is time that I ... touched you." I wasn't sure that I could give him the same pleasure he'd given me but I wanted to try.

"Yes!" He crowed and flopped by my side with an expectant look that brought an unaccustomed smile to my face. "Go for it, Sev."

"Slang, Mr. Potter?" I let my fingers drift up his arm to his chest and the brown nipples that peaked even before I could touch them.

"Sorry, Professor." He grinned, completely unrepentant.

But I was busy with gentle touches to his firm young flesh. His gasps told me that I was doing something right. I finally understand why he wanted to taste me. The musk that blossomed on my tongue when I dragged it over a pert nipple was instantly addictive. Doing it again, I found myself listening for his moan.

"Oh, Sev," was all he said but his hands carded through my hair as if to keep me there.

I switched nipples before continuing down the center of his torso to the concave navel where I tickled him a bit. That started him giggling and squirming, so I did it again. The sound of his laughter was a positive aphrodisiac. My groin was twitching for the first time in twenty-one years. But I was determined to ignore it in favor of tasting more of young Harry.

And he was magnificently erect when I smoothed my hands over his stomach to the dark patch of curling hair that surrounded his organ. His parents had had him circumcised and the long clean line of him was pleasing to my sight. The crown was red and swollen and I remembered what it felt like to taste him. Taking courage, I bent and daringly licked the single tear of fluid from the small slit.

He hiccuped and moaned, his hands falling from my head to the silky rug. I think he feared constraining me as Voldemort had done and I appreciated his tact. I'd been raped that way more than once but Harry was smaller than the dark sorcerer was and I was able to accommodate him quite easily in my mouth and throat. Like my earliest lessons in potions, my deep-throating technique had never been forgotten.

"Sev! Oh ... Sev ... how?" He was growing incoherent and leaking more copiously than ever before. "Sev!"

I sucked lightly and drank down his offering like my favorite potion. Really, Harry was quite delicious. Perhaps I needed to taste him regularly? His hands were limp on the rug; in fact he was quite limp everywhere. But the smile on his face could only be deemed blissful. I felt a moment of pride that I had caused that reaction.

"Sev," his whisper brought me up to pull him into my arms. I discovered that I liked holding him, feeling his warm skin next to mine. He radiated heat like the fire we lay before.

"Did you ... enjoy it?" I wasn't sure how to ask him his impressions.

"Wonderful. Terrifying." He sighed happily and opened his eyes to look into mine. "I think maybe you melted my brain."

"Oh dear, you didn't have all that much to start with. Whatever shall you do when that little has evaporated?" I dared to tease him.

"Hah! Very funny, Sev." He stuck his tongue out at me and I swooped in for a kiss, taking custody of the little pink tormentor before he could say anything else.

Harry sucked on my tongue and his hands caressed my back, finding more of those ridges that distressed him so. But all he did was soothe gentle fingers over them while kissing me so tenderly that I was moved to tears. Only the experience of a lifetime kept them from falling. He sensed that something was wrong and pulled away to look into my eyes.

"Sorry," I managed to say before losing the inner battle and burying my face in his shoulder. It was the first time since I was fourteen that I'd cried like this. I sobbed until I was limp, only then hearing Harry's voice saying my name softly over and over like one of those chants that I'd been teaching for the last four years.

"Severus." He has such wise eyes sometimes, an older soul looking through young eyes. "It's probably too soon to say this ... and I've never felt" he smiled such a strange smile, "... this before but I think ... I love you."

Time froze.

No. I couldn't do this.

I was too old.

Too scarred and flawed.

He had his whole life in front of him.

I closed my eyes to reject his magnificent gift.

"I ... I love you, too."

What? Where the hell had that come from?

Harry whooped and pushed me onto my back, swarming over me and branding me with his heat. His mouth devoured mine with his new knowledge and all I could do was hang onto him and submit to the overpowering tsunami of his emotions. They flooded through me, sweeping away the pain and anguish and scouring me clean of the old memories.

And for the first time since I was a child, I felt my groin twitch and slowly come to life. Harry felt it also and he slowly pulled away, moving carefully to my side and putting out a hesitant hand to touch me. I didn't wilt or fade but only swelled harder. We both watched in amazement while my shaft stood tall.

"Wow," he whispered. "You're beautiful and so big."

The single finger became his whole hand, gripping me lightly at first then harder when I didn't collapse. I watched, fascinated by this singular occurrence in my life. It appeared that Harry had single-handedly raised me from the dead past into a dizzying future. The moment a tear of liquid welled, he lapped at it with that little pink tongue that had so aroused me earlier.

One lick than another while I seemed to weep continuously for him and his hand began a tender stroking that felt better than anything, I'd ever felt before. Little shivers raced across my skin when he tried to fit my flared crimson crown into his mouth, the way I'd done for him. His heat enflamed me further and it was all I could do not to thrust up. But that might frighten him so I gripped the rug hard to keep from gripping his head.

"Harry, I think I may be close." I wasn't sure having never experienced this before.

He grinned, his eyes finding mine but not moving anything except his hands and tongue. The warm sucking finally swamped me with sensation. I felt like liquid fire, similar to a volcano I'd seen once, exploding with molten lava. I seemed to come forever, his warm mouth catching me. I'd once soaked in a hot spring and that languid heat had relaxed all of me until I was quite limp everywhere.

That's exactly what I felt like now. I forced my eyes open to see what I was feeling. Harry was busy cleaning my groin of the seed he hadn't been able to swallow. I was so sensitive that each little rasp make my skin ripple.

"Harry." I needed to say his name to make sure this was real. "Thank you."

His smile seemed to light up the dusk that was overtaking the room. "You're very welcome. Now I know what I was tasting this afternoon. We're both kind of bitter sweet when we come."

I found a chuckle somewhere and he joined in, sliding up and into my arms. I wanted to never move again, just stay like this forever. Somehow, when I least expected it, I'd found the one who completed me. Who made sense of the horror that had been my life. In a very real sense, Harry was my first just as I was his.

Part of the prophecy came back to me. 'Thou are the first, Thou art the last.'

He would be my last, too. I would never have another but him, even if I weren't his last. His life was just beginning and there were many paths ahead of him, but for awhile we would walk this path together. The rest of the prophecy beckoned and I saw dimly what might happen if we did create a child of love.

My wife, Ophelia had used artificial insemination to become pregnant. When Thomas was born, I'd felt content for the first time in such a long time. He was a beautiful little boy and I'd begun to unfreeze a little. But it wasn't to be. Our last argument blew up to gargantuan proportions and she coldly told me that she was taking Thomas and leaving me.

When I protested, she took great delight in telling me that she'd used someone else's sperm because mine was sterile. I still remembered the sinking feeling that hit me then. Voldemort had won yet another piece of my soul. Everything he touched was blighted and all of me was changed. When Dumbledore came to give me the news that they'd been killed in a train wreck, I gave up the fight and let myself freeze over.

But now I was feeling again and for the first time in over twenty years, I could see my choices laid out before me in shining detail. Soon I would make the decision that would govern my life for the foreseeable future. Whichever one I made, Harry would be a part of it. I couldn't give him up now.

I no longer belonged to Voldemort.

I was Harry's to do with as he pleased.

And just maybe, we'd create something beautiful for the Light.

The end for now