Title: Potions and Antidotes 1

Author: Raven Dancer

Rating: NC-17 m/m slash

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Ms. Rowling, except for Jeffrey Barnes, he’s all mine. heh heh heh.

Summary: After suffering another devasting success, Snape is comforted.

*NOTE* This series is not connected to my ongoing saga. It began as a challege piece for a forum I joined and simply took off. I have enjoyed writing it, but it does get progressively more and more explicit, so if male/male sex is not your ‘cup of tea’ just click the back key now on your browser because it gets very graphic by the third part.

Severus Snape sat across the desk from the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was past exhausted, having spent three nearly sleepless days and nights analyzing a slow-acting poison for the ministry then creating an antidote for it. It had been difficult, but Snape loved the challenge.

But the very best part was now, sitting here and listening to Dumbledore praise him for his genius and dedication. He would soak up the warmth and the words and hold it tight inside; keeping him from despair for weeks and weeks. He didn’t react much on the outside but inside he was turning flips. Dumbledore liked him, trusted him. He would do anything for the Headmaster.

In the middle of the praise, Dumbledore had been reviewing Snape’s copious notes and pretending not to notice the absolute exhaustion written all over the other man’s body, there was a knock at the study door. Two wizards walked quickly in, one, definitely a security wizard, gave a long, hard look at Snape. Dumbledore felt himself bristle.

Without a preamble, the second wizard, from the medical arts research department, took the notes and began to pull them apart, questioning every ingredient. Snape tersely defending each, soundly explained the need for them, and attempted not to get angry. Damn! couldn’t he just have a few minutes of feeling good about himself? He rarely was able to do so even with all his pretend bloated ego.

It was when the wizard, Clarion or some such name, asked about the poison sample as he shook its contents that the anger bled through. “Are you accusing me of keeping some of the sample for my own use?” Snape hissed flatly. The security wizard simply smirked, then re-tooled his features into passive watching. Clarion just stated the obvious,

“Well, your background and all, it’s just a precaution,” he blustered through. Snape declined to answer but Dumbledore rose up in a rage that startled all three men.

“You come to us begging for help to counteract this new poison and when Severus has developed an antidote as quickly as possible you have the AUDACITY to ACCUSE HIM of stealing? You figure that because he has the death mark on him he’s incapable of being

trustworthy after all these years?” He stomped to the door and flung it open.

“OUT! GET OUT!” he lost all semblance of civility.

Gathering up vials of antidote and the original poison along with the lab notes, the two wizards beat a hasty retreat. Dumbledore slammed the door behind them in a furious rage and began to pace back and forth calming himself.

Snape was rather dazed, both by the performance on his behalf and the lack of three day’s sleep. The warmth he had tried to gather inside had been blown out completely by the accusations and all he wanted to do was eat something, anything, and sleep. He drew in a ragged sigh and wondered if he could make it back to his rooms before he broke down. gods, he hated himself. Nothing he did was ever right.

He hadn’t noticed Dumbledore standing behind him, a hand gently placed on his shoulder. *I really should go while I can* he thought. A second hand came down on the other shoulder and both hands began to rub across the taut muscles. Slowly he became aware of the closeness and nearly leapt out of the chair. Dumbledore had waited for this and clung lightly to him, keeping him in place. “ssshh, Severus. I need to calm down,” Dumbledore said, continuing to touch the untouchable professor. Snape remained seated, not knowing how to react. He’d spent so many years making himself as unattractive as possible that this was perhaps the first time in months he’d actually had been touched outside a handshake.

Dumbledore worked on each set of knots he encountered, enjoying the challenge of smoothing the muscles out. He noted Snape was on the verge of falling asleep. He also noted Snape’s stomach was rumbling ominously.

He leaned over his shoulder and gently whispered to him.

“Like something to eat, Severus?” the Potions Master nodded dully, no longer concerned about being touched, being close to another person. Dumbledore helped him up and guided him to the table across the room.

“When did you sleep last?” he asked quietly. Snape thought about it. “A couple hours last night. I couldn’t stay awake any longer,” he replied vaguely.

“How about eating? When did you eat last?” he continued the inquisition. Snape was silent. Dumbledore turned him so they were inches apart and looked at the thin, tired face.

“You haven’t eaten, have you, since you started working on the antidote,” he said sharply. “Severus?”

The man in question just looked down, shrugging slightly.

“I thought it was important. I didn’t know it was just another thing to fail at,” a tiny, quiet voice of despair. He’d disappointed the Headmaster.

Taken aback at the reply, Dumbledore was momentarily speechless. Fail? He thought he’d failed? He’d only single-handedly unraveled a poison that had taken several lives and threatened more at the ministry hospital in London. He did the only thing he could think of doing, gathering the limp man into his arms and holding him in a tight embrace.

“You are not a failure, Severus Snape,” he said firmly, running his hands over the man’s trembling back. “You are one of the most intelligent, dedicated men I’ve ever known and I’m glad you are my friend,” he gently kissed Snape’s temple and felt the shiver run through his companion. His body in turn reacted with a tremble; he hadn’t felt his body react in quite awhile. Snape in turn clung to the older man, dangerously close to tears, too tired to recognize his own reactions. Until his stomach growled ominously.

“Oh shut up,” he snapped, causing Dumbledore to chuckle. Pulling back a little the Headmaster caressed his face then moved it to the protesting stomach. “Let’s feed you and then get you to bed,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the man’s cheek. Snape looked up shyly and touched Dumbledore’s face, running his fingers along his lips.

“Thank you,” was all he could think to say.

Dumbledore summoned Dobby and ordered up an early lunch. He watched Snape slowly attack the food when he noted a long burn on his hand. Reaching out, the Headmaster pulled the injured hand towards him.

“What happened?” he asked as he traced the burn up into the sleeve. It was blistered and looked painful.

“Just a little burn from the cauldron. I was going to take care of it after I bathed,” Snape seemed unconcerned. The hand was released and he continued to eat the warm bread that had been dipped in thick soup. Dumbledore noted the thinness of his exposed wrist and lower arm. He’d missed more than just a few meals of late.

Too tired to notice his companion’s keen interest, Snape stifled a yawn.

“I better go, I don’t think I can stay awake much longer,” he leaned back and ineffectively tried to push his chair away from the table.

“You are tired, Severus, too tired to make it back down to those dungeons of yours,” Dumbledore quietly wove a slight sleeping charm and sent it through Snape. The Potions Master blinked owlishly and struggled to remain awake.

“Come with me, Severus.” He pulled him up to his feet and walked him into the bathroom. It was amazing how quickly Snape found himself undressed, every cut and burn carefully checked. He knew he should be upset, this being naked, but frankly he was too exhausted to care about it. He realized he was being bathed but could not for the life of him figure out how he got into the tub, much less run the water. Someone, Albus? was running a washcloth over his vital bits. He further realized some of his ‘vital bits’ were more awake than the rest of him and he sat bolt upright in embarrassment (not the only thing upright!) and tried to push the inquisitive hands away.

A quiet voice whispered soothingly in his ear, calming him and he slowly leaned back once more.

“Shh, it’s ok Severus, let me take care of you. It’s just a little reaction to all the stress you’ve been under,” a master at soothing, he soon had the Potions Master leaning against him while his hand again began to stroke the hardening cock. Snape turned slightly as his body arched up.

“Albus,” he moaned softly. It all felt soo wonderful he knew it must be another dream. Just another dream. He kissed the face near him and was not surprised when the kiss was returned (it was a dream and as such Albus would find him attractive, too). He parted his lips and trembled as the Headmaster’s tongue slipped inside to thrust against his. His hands fisted and relaxed as his body began to tense, with a tight warmth pooling behind his balls.

Dumbledore was surprised and happy at Snape’s responsiveness. He realized the man was nearly asleep, but he was also aware he was not only enjoying the sensual massage he was thrilled with who was with him. He listened to Snape moan his name as his hips slowly began to thrust up into his hand.

Another long, leisurely kiss, tongues dancing against each other in a slow tango. He felt Snape begin to tighten, his breath ragged and his hips thrusting harder now, trying to continue the pace. Dumbledore’s hand ran up and down the length of the shaft a little faster, concentrated the strokes near the top under the pulsing tip when Snape went still.

He could feel the climax building behind his balls, spiraling up when his world exploded into thousands of bright stars and he let out a strangled yell. Absurdly pleased with himself, Dumbledore felt the seed pumping out and continued to stroke. Snape twisted and jerked in pleasure, his breath ragged, whimpering the Headmaster’s name over and over. Slowing, then stopping, he let loose of the softening cock and ran his fingers nimbly over peaked nipples. He was rewarded with a soft gasp.

Finally he caressed Snape’s face, sleepy eyes regarding him with love. Snape so wanted the dream to continue. He gathered it up and tucked it away deep for later to savor. He could see affection in those old eyes, even maybe love if he squinted just right. Sighing, he closed his own eyes and fell asleep. Dumbledore easily levitated the lax body up and out of the tub, drying it off leisurely. He retrieved a healing potion and covered the two burns and several bad cuts. He’d get Dr. Barnes to come in from Hogsmeade to check him over at the very least. He ran his hands over the sagging skin and ribs. Too thin. Too worn out. He idly wondered if he could take care of Snape, if he could find a way past the walls.

He had today, hadn’t he? His own swollen cock reminded him. gods, he would love to curl up against the Potions Master and enter him, feel the tightness surround him. Again, he felt the protruding bones, again he recalled the unguarded love in the man’s eyes. He made the decision to try his damnedest.

Next