Work Text:
Bloody Aurors. Bloody dynamics.
Harry seethed. He had been happily leading a normal life—well, sans any stable relationship, that is—so maybe happily was a slight exaggeration. Their society was built on secondary genders and everyone knew exactly what their roles were.
“Yeah, I’m an omega, quite happy about it, too…”
“Well, beta, why do you ask?”
“You should know I am an Alpha…”
Everyone, but him. As far as he knew, even betas knew what they were. But Harry emitted no scent to the Alphas, omegas paid him no mind, so everyone around him, himself included, assumed he was a beta. And since it was the only logical explanation, he let them carry on with their assumptions.
But Harry didn’t know. And now, his hand was forced into revealing said fact. Thanks to his appointment to a new task force, he was faced with an evaluation of his secondary gender, where he simply had to know what he was. The last thing he needed was for a Healer to create a special category for him. Perhaps his uncle was right and he was a freak.
As for relationships, his presumed beta status got him dates, but they never really led anywhere. They never ignited Harry’s passion, the need to stay, to spend time with that person, no matter what secondary gender they were. He wanted a relationship, he wanted a family, but there wasn’t anyone he clicked with. Nevertheless, despite that, he would happily stay in those relationships. It was his partners who had reservations and always ended things with him.
“I’m sorry, Harry, but I think we’d be better off as friends.”
Or something to that effect. He was sick of it, if he was honest with himself, but he had always clung to that little hope that the next person would be okay.
They never were.
He sighed as his legs carried him past the Hogwarts main door, through the Entrance Hall, and up the stairs to the gargoyle. He didn’t want to visit the Healers at St. Mungo’s, still paranoid about the last time someone leaked sensitive information about his state after a raid. His freakishness was the last thing that should hit the papers. He doubted this information would stay buried. It was too enticing.
That was why he had composed a letter to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, asking for a meeting. Snape was an extremely knowledgeable man, for one, and an Alpha. Most of all, he was the only one Harry trusted to help him figure out his current predicament, despite the fact he hadn’t talked to the man in years. He was ready to more than compensate him for his time and resources because he was sure that Snape’s self-imposed responsibility didn’t cover Harry’s life outside the castle beyond the defeat of Voldemort.
So he was glad and relieved when the man replied in the affirmative to his plea. Harry had been about ninety per cent sure Snape would not turn him down. Not because he believed Snape would feel compelled to help him, but because Harry knew the man loved solving complicated puzzles and unusual cases.
Giving the password to the gargoyle, he stepped onto the revolving staircase and knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
“Hello, Headmaster,” Harry greeted. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”
Snape lay the quill aside and looked up. “Mr Potter. Take a seat. Tea?”
“Please,” Harry replied, sitting in the armchair across from the man. He accepted a cup of the conjured tea and took a sip. His eyebrows shot up. “What tea is this?”
“Milk oolong.”
“It’s delicious,” he replied, sipping some more. He hoped Snape wouldn’t hold it against him if he drank the whole pot.
“That is why I serve it. Now, let’s dispense with the niceties. I’m certain you’re not here to hear me talk about the current castle affairs.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind. We haven’t talked since—”
“That was not an invitation to ask.” That shut Harry up. Apparently, Snape didn’t want to spend more time than necessary with him. He gulped, the tea tasting bitter suddenly.
“I apologise. Let’s cut to the chase, then.”
“Yes, yes, you’re not aware of your secondary gender and the Aurors are pressuring you to submit to a check-up. I’ve read your letter, Potter. I’m not interested in why you asked. But I am intrigued as to the cause.”
That was a relief. “What do you think is wrong with me?”
Snape sighed. “There could be numerous reasons. I’d like to eliminate the most obvious ones, if you would indulge me.” He opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a little vial. “Drink this.”
Harry took it and drank it without question, noticing that Snape's eyes widened a little at the gesture before the man pulled himself together again. The potion was tasteless and he hoped that was not a bad sign.
“What did it taste like?”
“Nothing. Just… nothing.”
Snape hummed and crossed out something on a parchment.
“What was it?” Harry asked, seeing as Snape didn’t deem it fit to provide any explanation.
“Hormonal check. Any sort of taste would signify an inconsistency that could explain your current predicament. Have you ever been exposed to toxic or otherwise harmful substances?
“Do your Potion lessons count?” he asked sassily, but was shot down with a look, and he sighed. “No, we have a team of Aurors who specialise in—”
“Have you ever consumed a potion to induce a heat or a rut?“
Harry gritted his teeth at the blatant disrespect. Why had he expected anything different though?
No, it was natural to expect normal treatment. They were not on the opposing sides anymore and they should have both buried the hatchet by now. “Contrary to what you may think about me, I am not an idiot.”
“Just answer the question.”
“No, because the potions are dangerous to any gender other than the one they are intended for,” Harry growled, reciting the reason by heart because he did want to try them, and this was the only thing keeping him in check.
“Have you ever reacted in any way to an omega in a heat or an Alpha in a rut, mainly by experiencing protective or territorial tendencies?” Snape continued, unfazed by Harry’s obvious seething.
“No, and no.”
Harry was then a witness to a rare occasion after that because Snape smiled. “Good, Mr Potter, because now the fun part really begins. Stop by in two days. I will have a solution for you by then.”
Harry got up. Despite the anger he felt, a wave of gratitude washed over his body. “Thank you. I appreciate your efforts. Whatever you need, I will pay for, of course.”
Snape just dismissed him, though, so Harry left, his steps lighter with the possibility that he would finally know. The only small concern he had was that even if he did know, it didn’t change the fact that he had absolutely no idea how to deal with that information. He still acted like a beta, because he wasn’t pushed into a territorial frenzy over anyone, nor did he feel protective about anyone specific.
Well, that wasn’t true. Once he was in a relationship, he did feel those things. He stopped, looking back at the castle behind him. He should have told Snape. It didn’t even occur to him to think along those lines. But then he shrugged. Once he knew, he would ask the man if he could fix him, so he’d act according to his secondary gender.
The next time he saw Snape, the man took him to his bathroom, giving him a cube-shaped glass with a translucent liquid inside. Harry wasn’t naive enough to think it was water. Not wanting to presume anything, he waited for further instructions. Avoiding the hostility from last time was now his primary goal.
“This is a solution that will identify the dominant markers of your secondary gender. If you would be so kind as to pee in it, we can conclude our business.”
Being treated once again like an unwanted vermin was not something Harry particularly welcomed, not after the Dursleys. But as he found his life thrust again into the hands of one person, one who still hated him in spite of how much Harry’d done for him, apparently, he had to bear it if he wanted results. A professional approach wouldn’t kill him, though.
He was suddenly so tired from all this that he just lowered the zip of his pants, got the glass from Snape’s hand, and set to pee in the glass, uncaring about Snape’s presence. He was sure that if he asked him to leave the room, Snape would have some sort of remark about a contaminated sample or whatever. The man would always find fault with everything he did. Following Snape’s example, Harry wanted to get this over with so that he wouldn’t be subjected to this treatment anymore, but also to finally find some peace by knowing.
He peed inside after fighting with his shyness a little and handed the glass back to Snape. If there was pee stuck to it, then it served him right. As the man smacked his lips in disgust, Harry felt slightly vindicated.
Doing his fly back up, he watched as Snape swirled the liquids inside until the colour of his pee disappeared and the liquid was once again translucent.
Snape was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.
The man simply shook his head. “This says there is no dominant marker in your body. There is always a dominant marker in everyone’s body.” Snape looked up, his gaze intense. “You always have to be a special case, Potter, eh?”
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t born right,” he snapped despite his endeavour to be calm and unbothered. As usual, Snape managed to evoke a lot of conflicting emotions in him. “How about we move past the fact that I am a freak and you let me know if there’s anything I can do to fix myself?”
Snape straightened his back, evidently uncomfortable by his outburst. “You’re an anomaly. That doesn’t necessarily equate to failure.”
Harry deflated, once again tired, rubbing his hand over his face as Snape continued, “I suggest you avoid the Auror assignment completely and wait until we conduct a full examination.”
Harry nodded. “Thank you. I know you don’t have to do this. It’s just that—” he stopped himself. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting you’re not interested. Thank you for taking my case and let me know if you need me to do anything.”
He turned on the spot, fully intent on leaving.
“Milk oolong?”
Harry stopped and turned around. “Are you inviting me for tea or am I supposed to respond with a random word combination?”
He watched as Snape’s lips quirked upwards before the man had his muscles back under control. “An invitation. Unless you have somewhere else to be.”
Harry considered him for a moment before he slowly started walking towards Snape’s desk. “Tea would be nice.”
Snape sat opposite him and conjured a tea set, letting one cup float over to Harry.
“What did you intend to say before?”
Harry took the tea and the question as an apology, but it still took him some time to respond.
“I’m not influenced by the secondary gender as others are, betas aside. But I can’t find a relationship. Every time I find someone and settle, I know I can be happy. I can feel that. But that’s usually the moment my partners decide that we are better off as friends or that it’s not working out for them. I tried dating both betas and omegas, but the ending is always the same.” He sighed. “I was hoping that when I knew who I was, I could dive into it with more confidence and finally be able to keep someone close to me.” He looked up at Snape pleadingly. “I don’t care about the Auror assignment, to be honest. I think it’s just an excuse for me to finally push myself into sorting this out and be able to settle down.”
Snape considered him for a moment. “You said you tried dating both betas and omegas. What about Alphas?”
Harry leaned back in his chair. “If I’m a beta or a version of it, it wouldn’t work because I want to have kids. They can’t give that to me.”
“Alpha women could,” pointed out Snape.
“So could beta women and they are more amenable to having a family. Not every alpha woman wants to bear children. Actually, it’s very rare. I met one and we were highly incompatible,” said Harry, realising with a start that there was something he could say with certainty.
Snape must have picked up on it as well, because he leaned forward and began a new inquiry into Harry’s way of working. “How did you know?”
Harry was watching him with wide eyes. “I don’t know, I just knew.”
Snape steepled his fingers together. “That would tell me you were an Alpha, but you say that dating omegas and being surrounded by them during their heat did nothing to you. Did you feel any distinction in your relationships between betas and omegas?”
“As in…?”
“You claim to be incompatible with alpha women but can date betas and omegas, I assume regardless of primary gender?” At Harry’s nod, he continued, “Was your approach to a beta different to that of an omega? Were you acting differently in your relationships with them?”
Harry frowned as he began to think back on his many relationships, trying to find a distinction between betas and omegas, men and women, but nothing came to mind. “I don’t think so. I treated them the same regardless of their primary or secondary genders.”
Snape leaned back, his hands still steepled together. “That is highly irregular. Alphas have different approaches to the other genders. What about alpha men?”
“I already told you they couldn’t give me what I wanted—”
“I heard you the first time, yes. But answer my question.”
Harry blinked. “I don’t know.”
“You claimed to be unfazed by an Alpha’s rut. Are you absolutely certain that you did not react in any way?”
Opening his mouth to respond, he paused. “Well, I… I actually haven’t gotten close to them enough. I mean, one of the theories Hermione has is that my sense of smell could be off. She also thinks that the Horcrux in me could have messed me up—”
“Would you be amenable to a little experiment?” Snape interrupted.
“Er, sure.”
“I am close to a rut but still under suppressants as it happens. My pheromones are running high at the moment as they need to attract a potential mate. I can down a cleansing potion to nullify the effects of the suppressant to give you a first-hand experience of an Alpha approaching his rut.” His gaze hardened, and for a moment, Harry thought he wanted to say something, but seemed to refrain from doing so in the end.
“As long as it doesn’t hurt you, go ahead.”
Snape’s gaze lingered on him a second longer than it was supposed to and something twisted in Harry. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was just something he registered but couldn’t put his finger on.
“Wait here and don’t touch anything.”
Harry rolled his eyes but used the time to look around. The office hadn’t changed much since Snape took the role officially. The only thing that caused a pang in Harry’s chest was the absence of a certain fiery bird.
He looked up at the sound of a closing door and watched Snape sit back behind the desk in front of him, placing two vials on the top of it.
“It will take up to a minute to cleanse the suppressant out of my system,” he said, taking a deep breath and downing the potion in one go. Putting the empty vial down, he added, “Brace yourself.”
Harry hummed and waited. When it was close to a minute, his body began to tense slowly, but it was more from the anticipation rather than from any natural reaction to the man as an Alpha. Once he was sure the minute had certainly passed, he took a deep breath, hoping that he would feel a change, a whiff, anything…
But there was nothing and he exhaled in disappointment.
“You don’t smell anything? You have no urge to please me or fight me or run away from me?” Snape asked calmly.
“No,” Harry grumbled. He was beginning to feel more and more let down. Nothing they had tried had yielded any results, and he was slowly beginning to worry that he would never know what was wrong with him.
“Interesting,” Snape remarked. “I command you to start singing!”
“Er, what?” Harry asked dumbly.
“My Alpha voice has no effect on you, remarkable. You seem to be exhibiting signs of being every gender as well as being none at all. Stand up.”
He watched Snape get to his feet as well, and he followed just because he felt the need to mimic the man. Snape approached until he stood directly in front of him.
“If your sense of smell is not operating as it should, we might be able to rouse it if it’s given a full dose to process.” He tapped the side of his neck with two fingers. “Take a deep breath here.”
Harry blinked and snorted. “You want me to sniff you?”
“Phrase it however you want, Potter. I’m simply trying to help you. But if you’re not interested—”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I—” he cut himself off because explaining to Snape how awkward he found this would just make it more difficult. And Snape didn’t seem to mind for the sake of experimenting, so Harry shoved his embarrassment aside and leaned forward to the spot Snape indicated. Just because it felt natural, he placed one hand just below Snape’s shoulder on his arm, but whether it was done to steady himself or to stop Snape from moving away from him, he didn’t know. His nose almost touched the man’s neck as he took a deep breath.
Snape smelled great. Whatever cologne he was using, whatever soap he had, he smelled wonderful. Harry took an involuntary step even closer, and while they were still not touching, he felt a level of intimacy that he hadn’t encountered in any of the beginnings of his previous relationships. Of course, it could be the fact that he’d known Snape for quite some time.
He breathed again deeply. Maybe it took more to rekindle his sense of smell to be fully functioning, but nothing changed.
Harry leaned back. “I’m not sure what I should be feeling honestly… Snape?”
He had never seen Snape look so… relaxed. His mouth was slack, his pupils were blown wide, and he had a faraway look in his eyes.
Squeezing the man’s shoulder lightly, he asked, “Are you alright?”
Snape slowly turned his gaze towards him but didn’t speak. His gaze dropped to Harry’s mouth, his neck, before it traced the contours of his face, ending up gazing into his eyes. When the man swayed a little, Harry caught him. “Whoa! Careful!”
Harry led him back into his chair, lowering him gently to it, unwilling to leave him. “Snape?” he asked, but still got no response. “Severus?”
That seemed to startle the man out of his daze. “You,” he began, clearing his throat as it sounded a little choked, “you remain unaffected?”
“Yes, you, on the other hand, seemed to be under some sort of daze. But I swear I didn’t do anything!”
Snape let out a shuddering breath as his trembling hand grabbed the second potion. He downed his suppressant again, waiting a moment until it took effect, and Harry saw clarity in his eyes again. “I have absolutely no idea… You used my rut against me somehow. Instead of me attracting a mate, you made me succumb to you, made me think you were my mate. To affect me like this… I have never heard of any beta or omega having such an impact on an Alpha.”
His voice was measured, but Harry still heard how affected Snape was from the experience. The man shook his head quickly and added, “I need to know what markers you have. This is extraordinary. To reduce an Alpha into an omega…” He looked Harry straight into his eyes as he stated, “And you're not even aware of that.” Harry sensed a tiny bit of admiration and… deference? From an Alpha? From Snape?
“I’m sorry,” Harry replied earnestly. “If I knew I would never do that! The last thing I need is to order around Alphas. Can you,” he said, looking at the floor, the fear of Snape’s answer clear even to him, “Can you find out what’s wrong with me? Can you help me understand it and control it once you do? I know I’m asking a lot, I know you want me out of your hair—”
“Yes,” Snape said simply, “to all your requests.”
A profound relief flooded Harry’s body and he smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”
Friday, 8 pm. Don't be late.
SS
Harry rolled his eyes and then again when the owl flew away without expecting a reply. Two weeks had passed since Snape promised him a solution. Excitement got hold of him so tightly that he almost stopped breathing. Snape wouldn’t have contacted him unless he had found something.
But why Snape had to be so difficult about it, Harry didn’t know. Don't be late. As if he was still a student that the man had to keep an eye on. It seemed he conveniently forgot Harry's extensive and quite persistent advocacy on his behalf. Well, if Snape needed to remind him about their statuses…
Maybe he felt threatened by the unknown that was Harry and this was his form of defence. Whatever it was, if it offered some sort of respite to Snape, then Harry would let it be.
Robards had been understanding about his situation regarding the discovery of his secondary gender. Harry told him that he trusted Snape more than the St. Mungo's Healers. When Robards didn't question him but instead welcomed Harry's initiative, something heavy fell from Harry's chest. Having the support and understanding of one's superior was all anyone could ever ask for.
At 8 pm on Friday evening, Harry once again knocked on Snape's door and entered when told. Recalling what happened the last time, he was a little apprehensive about everything.
Subduing an Alpha in any way should have been impossible. The only ones who could influence them in part were omegas in heat, and Harry was no omega. Neither was he in heat.
“Hi,” said Harry carefully.
“Good evening, Mr Potter. Please sit down. I will require three droplets of your blood for this.”
Harry's eyes fell onto a vial half-full of clear liquid. He looked up at Snape. “What’s it for?”
“Determining your markers.”
“Wasn't that what the last one did?” he asked in confusion.
“Yes and no. The last potion was invented to check the level of the dominant marker. It was mostly used by pureblood families to groom their children for their respective roles in the future. This potion is a derivative of that. However, instead of focusing on the dominant marker, it will tell us all the markers present in your body.” He perched his bum on his desk. “Ideally, the potion would turn white for a beta, blue for an omega, and red for an Alpha. I expect yours to be some merge of colours, but I wouldn't dare to even guess what colour we’ll see.”
Oh. “So you think I'm a what, a half-breed?” Harry's spirit had died down. He really was a freak.
“Let's speculate after we know the colour. Your finger, if you will, Mr Potter.”
But Harry heard the softness in Snape's tone of voice, and he realised frustratingly, that if someone like Snape felt pity for him, he had hit rock bottom. He fervently hoped that this rock bottom didn't have a cellar.
Snape pricked his finger, guided it over the vial, and squeezed the pad to let out three droplets of blood. Then, with an absent-minded swipe of his own finger, he healed the pin prick, his eyes already glued to the vial and the swirling liquid inside.
“You created this potion, didn't you?” Harry asked as he watched the clear liquid taking on a red hue from his blood.
“Yes.”
But neither spoke further, both busy looking at the red hue darkening. Red meant Alpha, correct? But then the liquid turned dark blue and Harry's eyes widened. Omega? When it turned white, Harry asked, “Is it supposed to do that?”
But Snape didn't answer, mesmerised and, dare Harry say, awed, by the play of colours. They watched it swirl, still unable to settle as it went from light blue to pink to dark purple until…
“So what's light purple?” Harry asked when the silence stretched.
“It means that you have the markers of all three genders in equal measures,” Snape replied in a bland tone.
“I kind of gathered that. But what does it mean for me?”
He hypnotised Snape with his gaze until the man met it. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“Oh,” Harry said. He was a little taken aback by that admission. Snape was brilliant, he always had answers. The fact that he didn't have any now made Harry extremely cautious and jittery.
“I suggest you go through the Black Library to see if you find anything that might help. In the meantime, I shall conduct my own research.”
Harry began to nod when he stopped himself. “Or just give me the names of the books you planned on consulting. I don't want to take up your time unnecessarily.”
Snape rose from his desk. “This is no longer about you, Potter. Apart from the fact that I already promised my assistance in your case, you have unconsciously exuded dominance over an Alpha. I need to know what you are in order to understand how you work. The fact that you need to get your gender under control should go without saying.”
Harry felt like a recalcitrant student. Not to mention knowing that he was once again something out of the ordinary pissed him off. But it also made him feel like he would never belong, like there was no end to his misery. Couldn't he have been normal at least in one thing? Just one? Was it so difficult to ask?
“I know,” he replied in a defeated tone. “You're absolutely right. I'll do the research, of course.”
“Potter,” Snape's voice stopped him on the way out. “For once, you don't need to despair. If you're able to make Alphas yield to you, you have a societal advantage. You have acted like a beta from what I gathered from your story. Your strength and emotional control could very well represent your alpha and beta strengths. I can only guess as to what your omega traits are.”
Harry smiled. “Thank you for the consolation. It makes me feel slightly better.”
Snape scoffed but didn't respond, which showed Harry that he must have been more affected by this than he let on. Harry also appreciated the man's input all the more for Snape's Alpha status; Alphas were not usually known for their empathy. Or maybe Snape saw danger in him, and considering neither knew what Harry was capable of, the man’s honed survival instincts would have made him tread lightly.
Leaving Snape's office, Harry couldn't help but wonder how this whole thing worked for him. Even if he did find out who he was, he didn't feel in control of his actions. As far as he understood, all baser reactions, while innate and natural, were consciously accessible to the person. Harry had an effect on Snape, but he had absolutely no idea how he'd done it. What if it was something he couldn't control? What if it was just there, out of reach?
He slept pitifully that night, his mind alert and going through all imaginable scenarios. He gave up close to dawn and entered the library at Grimmauld Place. Feeling a little intimidated and hopeless at the sheer number of books lining the walls, he squared his shoulders and decided to tackle this with determination.
Going systematically from left to right, he found what looked to be a section on dynamics. First things first, he would see if there were books with titles giving away more than the regular and standard information. Considering most of the books were tips and tricks on how to raise the best of one's secondary gender, Harry was quickly losing his spirit again. Because if the Black Library didn't have anything on the topic…
He almost jumped and died of fright when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“THE FUCK!” he shouted, his hand automatically going to his chest where he felt his wildly beating heart.
“I'm sorry, Harry. I was calling you downstairs, but when you didn't reply, I was worried,” Hermione said sheepishly. “How did it go with Snape last night?”
Harry closed the book he was reading with a sigh. There wasn't anything interesting in Going Beta: A Lifestyle Or A Necessity? anyway.
He sighed. “It's kind of a good news, bad news situation.” She sat down on the floor next to him, her expression of polite interest. “I've no idea what I am, but I have all three markers in equal measure.”
Hermione's eyes widened. “How's that possible?”
Harry shook his head. “I don't know, neither do I care to be honest. I just need to know what I am and how to deal with it.”
He then proceeded to tell her the whole process of the potion turning light purple, and after that, he also included the little tidbit about Snape. Her mouth actually dropped open at that.
“You made him submit?”
“I'm not sure if I'd call it submitting. He was affected, yes, but that’s it.” He recalled Snape’s drugged look, the way his gaze dropped to his mouth, and he shivered. “He did say I practically turned him into an omega.”
She nodded. “It does look like it. How did he react?”
Harry took a moment to reflect on the aftermath. “He was overwhelmed for sure. I mean… how could any Alpha ever expect to be under someone’s effect? He downed his suppressant as soon as he could. It visibly shook him…” The way his eyes raked over his face as he couldn’t stop himself—
“Harry?” Hermione interrupted his flow of thoughts.
Shaking his head, he asked, “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
He watched her with an open expression. “He was… I can’t describe it well. He wasn’t Snape, if you know what I mean. Not in that moment. He seemed… pliable. As if he would allow me to do anything.”
Hermione blushed. “Oh, I can’t imagine that. He was always quite strict and in control. I’m sure it had to unbalance him.” But Harry could see that her brain did try to conjure a picture because her blush deepened a little.
“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed teasingly.
“Oh, shush,” she replied, smacking him playfully on the arm as she looked to the floor, smiling. “He changed after the war. I can see that in the little interaction I’ve had with him. It’s not like you haven’t crushed on him before, either.”
Harry opened his mouth in indignation, but no words came out as he recalled The Half-Blood Prince. “Fine, whatever,” he mumbled and Hermione chuckled.
“Did you find him hot?” she asked. “While he was dazed?”
Harry tried not to think about it the entirety of last night and this whole day. Unsuccessfully, he might add. “Honestly? It was… empowering? It made me appreciate the Alphas more. If they have similar responses from omegas while being controlled by their nature, I think I get why they’re almost unstoppable.”
“So that’s a yes,” she said, smirking.
He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“Are you thinking of pursuing relationships with Alphas, then?”
“Not until I know more about myself. I cannot go around people, having them swoon after me. First of all, how would that be different from their reactions to me as the Man Who Fucking Lived, and second, how do you think that’s gonna go if Alphas realise they’re not in control around me? It’s their dominant trait, no pun intended. Snape seemed to take it well, but it might have been because it was a surprise. That doesn’t mean others will react similarly. They’re Alphas—being in control is what they know.”
Hermione nodded, frowning. “So we just need to find out more about you, then.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Alright, show me what you’ve covered so far, and I’ll join you.”
“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he asked, but couldn’t help but feel grateful to her nonetheless. “You have your own job. And Ron.”
“Who will help us once he’s back from his visit to the pub,” she answered resolutely.
“He’s not going to be happy,” Harry said but grinned. Both of his friends were betas and it worked well for them.
“That’s his problem. He knows I’m here, he’ll join us later.”
They spent the larger part of Saturday as well as almost the entire Sunday before Ron said uncertainly, “I think I might have something.”
They were all sitting cross-legged on the floor. There were sandwiches in the middle, replenishing constantly, jugs of water nearby, and so many books scattered around them for references. Hermione had a system in the chaos, and neither Ron or Harry wanted to get in her way.
“What did you find?” Hermione asked, glancing up from the book she was currently reading. Harry looked at Ron expectantly as well.
“I’m not… sure,” Ron said, scratching his head slowly. “It’s more of a diary by—” he flipped the book to the cover “—Eliadora Black. Listen. ‘This was the strangest meeting I have ever had. A man came to me claiming his need to understand his powers. Upon further investigation, I have learned that he subdued an Alpha, was not impacted by heats or ruts, and impregnated said Alpha. It was such an outrageous claim that I voiced my opinion on the situation. But he promised he had proof. I am intrigued despite my reservations’,” Ron paused, leafing through the diary.
“Oh wow, that sounds similar to what you’re going through, Harry, right?” Hermione asked eagerly.
“Apart from impregnating Alphas, yes.”
“That you know of,” she pointed out.
Fair enough.
“Shush,” Ron said and continued reading when he found the page he was happy with. “Here. ‘The blood test proved to be true. This man was the father of their little girl, while his partner, an Alpha, was the other father and also the person who gave birth to their child. I have placed a request to conduct further experiments. My subject agreed’.” Ron leafed through the pages again. “‘There’s no single dominant marker in his body, which is remarkable. But it leads me to the conclusion that he must have more than one marker, considering his circumstances. The ability to withstand ruts and heats could be the beta marker. The ability to impregnate an Alpha could be the marker of an omega in the form of fertility. Subduing an Alpha could be an Alpha marker. As he likely possesses all three markers in equal measure, I have decided to assign him the title Sigma, as it seems the most appropriate, because it represents a summation’.”
Harry had a name. He couldn’t believe he had a name for himself.
“How old is that diary?” Hermione asked curiously.
“She was Sirius’s great-great-grandmother or something like that,” Harry replied, “and she lived in the nineteenth century.” At the look of his two friends, he added, “I studied Sirius’s family tree and went through the Book of Sacred Twenty-Eight. I’m not ignorant when it comes to family.”
“We never said you were, Harry,” Hermione replied softly before her face took on a pensive expression. “I wonder if that is the first case of a documented Sigma or that gender in general. If they’re not affected by Alphas and omegas, they could be living happily as betas and not even be aware.”
Harry nodded. “I think it was in my case. If I hadn’t needed to undergo that check, I would just continue to think I sucked at relationships.”
“You don't suck at them,” Hermione replied immediately. “You just haven't found the right mate. And I think your partners knew, that's why they ended things. They just couldn't pinpoint the right reason.”
That made sense…
Wait.
Wait a minute.
“Are you—” She wasn't, was she? “—are you saying Snape is my mate?” His tone had a profound disbelieving quality.
“I actually think you might have more than one possible mate,” she replied. “You could have one for each of your secondary genders, and who knows, you might be so adaptable that you could be compatible with more than one person of each gender.”
He scoffed. “Good. I'd go with that theory because…” he paused and snorted, “because can you imagine Snape wanting children and getting pregnant?” he chuckled. “‘Cause I can't.”
Ron snorted with him and Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
“You never know,” she said evasively.
“Oh, come now, Hermione,” Ron spoke. “He's an Alpha and still single at his age. I don't think he'd ever considered that option.”
“I’m just happy that I don’t have to focus on one secondary gender, that any one of them could be compatible with me and have children with me. I just need to come up with a strategy. They all know if we’re compatible or not.” He frowned as he kept thinking. “If they can only tell close to their ruts or heats. Not sure about betas, though. Then I should know fairly quickly if we’re going to work out.” He looked up at both of his friends with a smile on his lips. “You have absolutely no idea how ecstatic I am that I’m not a complete failure.”
Hermione went up to him and pulled him into a hug. “Oh, Harry, you have never been a failure.”
He hugged her back, his life looking bright once again.
“I just wonder,” Harry began slowly, “if we assume that I’m compatible with all genders, why didn’t it last with the omegas and betas that I dated?”
Hermione looked pensive. “Maybe there’s a different sort of compatibility at play?”
“So I just need to find out what that is and go from there? That… actually doesn’t sound half bad.”
Except he still wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
“I must admit, I'm surprised you wanted to meet so soon.”
Snape served them both his signature milk oolong, inviting Harry to sit across from him.
“Hermione found something and I thought I'd share our findings,” Harry replied, handing the Black diary to the man as he sat down. “This diary belonged to Eliadora Black. Someone came to her with the same problem I have.”
Snape consumed the book at a crazy speed. “I applaud the name she chose. And her subject was able to impregnate an Alpha, that's…”
“Scary?” Harry prompted when Snape was silent for long, likely even forgetting he spoke.
When the man's gaze snapped up to his, his eyes widened as if he saw Harry for the first time. There was a sudden, desperate look to his face, the intensity putting Harry on alert, before Snape composed himself and averted his gaze.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked.
Snape simply nodded but something still felt off.
“Has your rut hit yet? I'm sorry if this is a bad time—”
“No,” Snape interrupted harshly before he took a deep breath. “No,” he repeated more calmly, “the news is simply too much to digest at once.”
“I bet,” Harry replied. “I mean, you’ve spent your whole life following some set rules, and now it's possible there are more people like me, throwing the entire system out of order.”
“That's an accurate summary,” Snape commented grudgingly. “Have you… have you already considered all your options?”
Harry began talking animatedly. “I always thought there was a problem with me, but I know better now. And if I can find my mate no matter the secondary gender, I have more options than I originally thought. It makes me excited to be back in the game.” He frowned as he voiced aloud something he hadn’t admitted in front of his two friends. “The only thing I don’t understand is, if I can technically make any gender pregnant, why have I not been able to make a go of it with either betas or omegas? That doesn’t make any sense, right?”
Snape’s intense eyes bored into his as the man weighed his response, “It might if you account for the fact that you are a very powerful wizard.”
Blinking in confusion, Harry asked, “What does that have to do with it?”
“Everything. A weak omega faces difficulties in conceiving. A weak Beta defers to an Alpha in the same sense as an omega does. And a weak Alpha… those are ogres who cannot get their basic impulses under control. The same could apply to Sigmas; weak ones might be mistaken for regular Betas. Powerful ones, like yourself, might only be compatible with powerful individuals, who could balance out their needs.”
“I understand, there’s only one problem with that. I dated Neville at one point, and he is a powerful omega. We should have been compatible. But he said I felt off to him.”
“Off?” Snape asked curiously. “In what sense?”
Harry shrugged. “He just said it didn’t feel right dating me.”
Snape seemed to consider that for quite some time. Harry was lost in his thoughts, going over all the reasons his previous partners gave him, and it was mostly the same one.
“I assume Mr Longbottom entered his heat while being with you?”
The sudden question brought Harry out of his musings. “Er, yeah.”
“Did you try to help him through it?”
“Through all his heats, yeah.” Harry had no idea where this was leading.
Snape hummed. “With any future heat, was he acting any differently to his previous ones? And is it safe to assume that you were not successful in breeding him?”
Harry fidgeted in his seat. It was a little mad discussing this with Snape of all people. “No and no. He was… satiated but not satisfied, I could see that. And no, he didn’t get pregnant.”
To his surprise, Snape picked up a parchment and began writing. Harry didn’t want to intrude, so he bit his tongue and waited until the man finished whatever he was doing. Which didn’t take too long.
“With how many former partners are you still in touch?”
What? “Er… about five, I think?”
Snape waved his wand until there were five parchments laid out before them. Collating them together, the man handed them to Harry.
“Don’t read it. Give this to each of your former partners and tell them to fill this out as honestly as they can. Don’t read it even after they return it. When you have all five, bring them back to me. I’m certain we will find your compatibility issue from there.”
“What if I read it?” he asked challengingly.
“Then you will inadvertently affect the results. This is data collection for your problem, not an evaluation of your prowess.”
Harry blushed and huffed. He was sure there were personal, maybe even intimate questions about him, and he did want to know what his former partners thought. But if Snape believed his behaviour would affect the answers, then he wasn’t stupid enough to look.
“Fine.”
He should have looked. Especially when he went to talk to Neville. Harry told him that he had absolutely no idea what was on the parchment, but said that it would help him with a problem and no matter what was written there, if he could please answer it as honestly as he could.
Neville opened the parchment and after a few seconds his eyebrows raised and he shot an astonished look in Harry’s direction.
“Are you sure you want me to answer these?”
Harry gritted his teeth. “Yes. Look, I’m sure that whatever is in there is highly humiliating for me, but if it’ll help me, feel free to be as open as possible.”
“Are you going to read this?” Neville asked carefully and Harry had a sudden appreciation for Snape.
“No,” he replied honestly. “Not the questions, or the answers.”
Something in Neville relaxed.
Harry, however, was even more curious as to the questions on the list.
By the time he handed the parchment to his last former partner, he wasn’t even the tiniest bit mad. But when the last bloke, Mike, saw the questions, he had a strange gleam in his eye, confirming to Harry that it wasn’t just some basic round of questions. He wasn’t sure now if he was interested in the questions or the answers anymore. Maybe it would be best if Snape just analysed the responses himself instead of dragging Harry into it.
“I take it you were successful?” Snape asked when Harry handed him the filled parchments. He debated sending them via an owl, but he was still a little paranoid about its interception. The last thing he needed was for someone to hand whatever responses there were to The Daily Prophet.
“I hope so. I mean, they all filled it out.”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t look.” Harry even thought he was mildly impressed.
“No, you told me not to.”
“And you always do as you’re told.” The sarcasm in the man’s voice was unmistakable.
“I do when it’s important. And you know that damn well.”
Snape inclined his head in some sort of apology. “Take a seat.” He pushed tea in front of Harry and began reading.
Having nothing else to do, Harry settled for watching him. At one point, Snape cleared his throat, his finger tapping against his lips and then absentmindedly caressing them. Not long after that, he put the parchment to the bottom and read the second one. His discomfort was more palpable now, and Harry fidgeted, again not sure if he wanted to know what was inside. At the third parchment, Snape hummed and Harry suddenly recalled how pliant he went in his arms and wondered if his positive body response was only to Snape or to the fact that he subdued an Alpha.
He got lost in his thoughts and was startled when Snape put the parchments on his desk. Clearing his throat, Harry asked, “Was it insightful?”
“Very informative,” Snape said, and Harry got the feeling his voice plunged a little lower than usual.
“So, er,” Harry continued when it was clear that Snape would make him ask, “what do you think?”
Snape turned to face him fully, all traces of humour gone. Serious time, then.
“They all felt inferior to you—”
“What?” he blurted out, interrupting Snape. He noticed the displeasure and he knew, rationally, that this was all about evaluation of what he received, but the need to defend himself was intolerable. “I have never demeaned them, never talked down on them, never patronised them; there is absolutely no reason for any of them to feel inferior!” He didn’t realise he rose from the chair and was breathing harshly.
“Sit down,” Snape barked. “You seem to be forgetting that you have an effect on the people around you that you do not control, nor do you understand it. This is one of the many things that everyone is aware of through their secondary genders.”
Harry plopped back into his chair in defeat. “So what you’re saying is that I’m an uncontrollable freak.”
“Potter… Harry.” The younger man looked up at that, misery radiating from every pore in his body. “What I’m saying is that you still haven’t found your trigger, which would release your instinctual knowledge of your secondary gender. Miss Granger might be correct; the Horcrux in you could have postponed the release or even blocked it. The nudge for everyone else is usually very subtle. It is entirely possible that subtlety in your case will not work.
“I believe that your nature instinctively knows what it wants, and it did all it could with its limited options. Your previous partners were unsuitable, and your gender made them feel inferior, as it was the only way it could fight back.”
Harry watched Snape carefully before he asked, “Did you feel inferior when—” but couldn’t finish the question, blushing in shame.
“No, I did not,” Snape answered softly.
“So my secondary nature was pushing everyone away.”
“I would assume everyone but Alphas.”
Harry blinked. “Because Sigmas can only be paired with Alphas? I thought we didn’t have any limits.”
Snape shook his head. “We are working under a lot of presuppositions. You are the only Sigma I’ve ever met. I can’t say with certainty that it applies to all Sigmas, but the compatibility with Alphas does apply to you.”
“That’s even worse,” Harry said morosely.
The elated feeling that he had when he knew there was a chance he could fix himself soon became a heavy burden, and he felt worse, much worse than when he thought he could date all three genders. “Show me an Alpha willing to bear children for me,” he whispered in defeat. “They’re all about control.”
“I’m… certain you will be able to find some whose priorities align with yours.”
Harry looked up at the gentle tone. If Snape was so careful with him, he must have pitied him and thought that while there was a chance, it was very small. He got up, unable to stay any longer. He had to leave, had to go lick his wounds in private.
“I don’t need the pity, Headmaster.” He extended his hand, waiting for the man to shake it. “I appreciate all your help with figuring out my gender. Please let me know what I owe you so I can reimburse you.”
Harry left his office without a backwards glance, uncaring what the rest of the parchments said. No matter what Hermione told him, he felt like he failed before he even began.
Squaring his shoulders once he entered the castle’s grounds, he took a deep breath, determination settling over his features.
No. He was a Gryffindor, he didn’t give up. He fought until all that was left was acceptance. He would talk to Alphas and figure out if there was one interested in giving it a go with him.
It had been a week. He talked to a couple of his friends about his situation, just to understand their general Alpha view, but their responses weren’t what he was hoping for. They were, however, what he expected.
“I know what you’re asking, but something in me is rebelling against the idea, you know? I want to have children, but I don’t want to bear them. I’m not even sure if I could take care of them properly.”
or
“Well, that would technically turn me into an omega, wouldn’t it? But without the traits that go with it, no? I don’t think I could become an omega, not even for the sake of having children.”
And variations thereof.
Harry couldn’t decide which was worse; not knowing what his role in the dynamic was, or understanding exactly what he got himself into.
No. No, of course, he was very aware which option would work for him. The not knowing of what he was kept slowly killing him. So by a simple process of elimination, learning the truth was the only solution. The fact that he didn’t like the truth much was only his problem and it had nothing to do with the rest of the world.
Another problem was that these people were his friends and were honest with him. He did believe that if he posted an ad in The Daily Prophet, he would immediately have a bunch of Alphas lining up to get pregnant. But mostly because he was The Boy Who Lived. And if his friends’ responses were anything to go by, these volunteers would be doing it either against their own will, likely thinking they owed him something for winning the war, or using it as a never-ending blackmail and free pass.
Harry just wanted a family.
It didn’t help either that Snape refused to name his price for helping him, making Harry feel as if he owed him. He sent him an owl reminding him of all that he’d done for him, but Snape brushed it aside, claiming it was a project that was challenging after so many years of boredom that he could consider them even.
Which of course Harry couldn’t, so he invited him over for drinks on Friday. Expecting a little back-and-forth persuasion, he was very surprised when Snape readily agreed.
“Thank you for coming,” said Harry, opening the door for the Headmaster to let him inside. He still couldn’t believe that they were willingly spending time together. Harry felt awkward. What the hell did he have in common with Snape? Not to mention, he didn’t want to spend the time talking about him again. And he wasn’t sure if Snape would be comfortable talking to him about himself. What did that leave them with?
“Would you like wine? Or something stronger?”
“Do you have any brandy?”
“Er, I might. Let me take a look.”
Snape followed Harry into the living room. Harry motioned him to the sofa as he walked over to his small bar, peering in.
“Goblin’s Finest?” he asked, hoping that was a brandy and not a cognac or whiskey. Or whatever else it could be, because he wasn’t much of a drinker.
“Acceptable.”
Harry poured the man a glass and then shrugged and poured himself one too. He was too lazy and too uncomfortable to get something else for himself. Placing one glass in front of Snape, he slid into an armchair opposite the man, gripping his drink firmly.
“What progress have you made towards acquiring an Alpha mate?”
Harry almost spat out his drink. Trust Snape to be straightforward.
“Er,” he replied, reactivating his brain to work properly, “None. In the sense that it’s impossible to find an Alpha for me.”
“According to the Black diary, it’s not impossible—”
“Snape,” Harry said, anger at his own hopelessness clouding his tone of voice, “a century ago, maybe. But I’ve asked the Alphas around me. They all said the same thing. They wouldn’t be comfortable bearing children. They’re not comfortable surrendering to anyone. So I have to,” he gulped, looking away in misery, “I have to either accept the fact that I won’t have children or… or keep trying until I’m too old and it’s over for me.”
“You must have considered other alternatives.”
Did the man not understand anything? Did he not see how much this was hurting Harry?
“Have you come in here just to rub salt into my wound?” Before Snape could react, Harry snapped, “Of course I considered everything. But you really think I should just post an ad in The Daily Prophet?”
“I didn’t mean any offence,” Snape said softly. “I simply had to confirm that you have gone through all options before presenting you with an offer.”
Harry blinked as his body relaxed. It didn’t sound as if Snape was there to humiliate him. “An offer? What offer?”
Snape placed his glass on the table. “Before I say anything further, I need to ask you one question.”
He seemed to be steeling himself for something uncomfortable. Harry didn’t understand the change, not with such a brutal start.
“Yes?” Harry encouraged gently.
“What are your requirements for a partner?”
Harry chuckled mirthlessly. “Seriously at this point? Their willingness to bear my children.”
“There must be something else.”
But Harry shook his head. “There's not. I'm not picky. I can't afford to be.”
Snape nodded as if it solidified something. “I might have a solution.”
Harry’s eyes snapped to his. He tried not to feel hopeful, but he knew Snape was brilliant. Perhaps he found a workaround, or a potion to help him conceive.
“You might find yourself needing to compromise.”
“I can compromise,” he replied, hope clawing to the surface despite his vehemence not to let it. “What are the conditions? What should I do?”
“I… would be amenable to bear children for you.”
It took Harry a while to process what Snape was offering. And when he did, he firmly squished his impulse to agree. If anything he was suspicious. With the way Snape acted towards him and his lack of altruistic nature, Harry was more than careful.
“And what would you want in return?”
Snape raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips shortly. “Naturally, being involved in my children’s lives.”
“That’s it?”
Harry always imagined himself being a part of a happy family, living with his partner and their children, supporting each other, being there for each other, taking care of each other… and it seemed that it just wasn’t in the stars for him. The best he could hope for with Snape was being civil to each other when the children would be growing up.
He understood now what Snape meant by needing to compromise.
“I would never keep a parent away from their children.”
Snape finished his drink and placed it on the coffee table. “Good. I don’t expect an answer now. Think about it. And once you’ve made your decision, owl me.”
With that, he left, Disapparating once the front door closed behind him.
Harry was so dumbfounded, he kept sitting in his armchair, looking in the direction in which Snape left, unseeing of anything.
Since when did having children begin to feel like a business transaction?
The worst part was that he was contemplating his offer, more than ready to accept. While it wasn’t different from finding someone through the Prophet and vetting them as a parent, at least he knew Snape. The man was smart, brilliant really, an expert in more than just Potions. Harry reckoned he would still be a Headmaster by the time their children came, keeping an eye on them. And if Harry had learnt something throughout his younger years, it was that they would be safe with him there. He would likely favour them, but not overtly.
So no matter how much and how often Harry turned the offer over, he knew it was the best offer he would ever come across.
He was just extremely disappointed in himself and in his life.
Instead of owling the man with his response, Harry decided to pay him a visit. He contemplated bringing alcohol as a token of appreciation, but decided to proceed with something more practical. Neville pointed him to a plant that supposedly attuned to its owner and blossomed based on their mood. Harry internally joked that it would only sprout black thorns, but then firmly chastised himself. If he wanted to take this seriously, he should do his best to get along with the father of his future children.
“Enter.”
Harry opened the door, peering in. “Hi, am I interrupting?”
“No. Please take a seat.”
Carefully manoeuvring the plant with his wand, Harry settled it on the table before sitting himself. “This is for you. For your trouble. I’m not sure if you know what plant this—”
“I’m a Potions master, of course I’m aware of what plant you brought,” Snape snapped and Harry bristled.
“A simple thank you would have been enough.”
“For what, Potter, mocking me?”
Harry was taken aback by the man’s sneer. “How am I mocking you?”
He could see that Snape had a scathing remark ready, but he must have taken in Harry’s surprised expression and changed course.
“This plant is usually given to teenage girls.” Harry’s eyes widened in horror, which made Snape relax. “I surmised that as I offered to bear your children, you thought it… funny, to establish our roles further this way.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I would never—” Of course, Neville would think— “I just told N… the florist that I wanted something nice, not a bouquet, as a way to accept a proposal. I’m sorry, I should have been more specific.” He sighed. “I’ll return it and find something more appropriate.”
“No need,” Snape said hastily, pulling the plant towards himself. “I’m quite certain I will find some use for it.”
Oh, perhaps it was a good source for potion ingredients.
“Er, I’m glad you’re not tearing me limb from limb, then.”
“This plant,” Snape continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken, “you are accepting my offer?”
“Yes, I—” Harry paused, wanting to explain to Snape his thought process, his hopes, but knew that the man wasn’t interested in any of that. He had to keep reminding himself that this was just a business transaction to him, and nothing else. Harry bit his tongue, nodding, as he finished, “I accept.”
“Good. Then perhaps we should start as soon as possible. My prime years do have a ticking clock and I assume you want more than one child.”
Harry nodded dumbly, once again paralysed by how cold Snape was about the whole thing, but knowing that he had to go along with it and be thankful.
“Considering there is no information on which part of my cycle is best for conception, I suggest we cover all bases, starting with the opposite time to my rut as that is the closest convenient date. It’s similar to the moon phases.” Snape got into a lecture tone and Harry once again wondered why the man was doing this in the first place. It didn’t seem he wanted children himself, but as if he was doing this as a favour to Harry.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“We have to try all four phases, where my rut is the equivalent of the full moon. The bright side is that my cycle lasts three months, so you can sufficiently recover from each session and prepare for the next one with enough notice. I shall owl you the schedule for the next quarter.”
That was it. He was dismissed just like that. No attempts at connection, no effort to get to know him, no negotiations about their lives with children. Just this detached fuck schedule. Harry felt like he was called from the sperm bank, to serve the candidate who chose him as a potential father.
On his way home, he wondered if it wasn’t the best approach Snape could assume, because it just dawned on Harry that he would have to have sex with him. Of course, he knew that was how things were done; he wasn’t a blushing virgin, far from it. It was just that with Snape’s cold demeanour and business-like proposition, Harry somehow forgot.
And now he spent the entire rest of the day wondering how their first time would go, imagining it from every angle, taking it apart. For some reason, he couldn’t get them naked. With Snape’s impersonal processes, he just didn’t see him as the type who would willingly get naked and begging. It made him wonder why Snape suggested it in the first place.
Everything was the exact opposite of what Harry had in mind and he felt the anguish struggling to surface and devour him. Harry downed a Dreamless Sleep and hit the bed early, hoping that the next day would be more positive.
Harry was frantic. He took a shower, then wasn’t sure if he did, and showered again just in case. He ripped a pair of boxers in his haste to put them on. Then he almost spilled boiling water on himself when making tea.
Suffice it to say that this wasn’t Harry’s best day. Considering the afternoon activities, the odds of this becoming a successful day were close to null.
He almost had a heart attack when the doorbell rang. Trying unsuccessfully to make his unruly hair behave one last time, he opened the door.
Snape looked his usual self. Harry didn’t spot a single effort to look more presentable in light of their impending session, and he felt like an idiot for thinking this was in any way special to the man. Recalling why this was happening in the first place wasn’t the best course of action either, as Harry realised he would slowly succumb to depression if he concentrated on it too long or thought about it too keenly.
“Hi,” he rasped, “Come on in. Drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Harry’s eyes widened. Snape didn’t sound detached or cold at all, but Harry couldn’t place the unusual tone.
“Alright. Erm, would you like… I have some grapes and cheese—”
“I’m not hungry.”
Harry nodded. Neither was he. To be honest, if he had eaten anything, he would probably throw up. Before he could get sad again, Harry breathed, “The bedroom’s this way.”
Snape followed him silently. Harry felt extremely awkward, standing in the middle of the bedroom, unsure of how to proceed. Sex never felt this awful, this cold.
“So how do you—”
But Snape was already unfastening his trousers and Harry was left just standing there, staring dumbly. Watching Snape stand at the foot of the bed, lowering his trousers down, Harry watched him settle on the bed on all fours, arse jutting upwards.
Harry gulped. The man had a lovely behind. And despite the coldness of the entire encounter, Harry felt himself stirring. He had a weakness for butts.
Coming to stand behind the man, Harry put one hand on a buttock, caressing it.
“What are you doing?” Snape asked raspily.
“Er, I don’t… you have a nice arse.”
Snape seemed to tense up, of all things.
“I assume you know the mechanics,” the man began, his voice once again cold and matter-of-fact, acting like a cold shower to Harry’s mind. “Are you familiar with the cleaning and lubrication spells?”
“Yes,” Harry replied obediently and cringed. “But I’d prefer—”
“Good. Apply them and have at it. I don’t have the entire evening.”
I don’t have the entire evening. Harry’s erection, or his cock’s attempts at one, completely disappeared. He jerked his hand from the man’s bum as if burnt, aiming all his efforts to not start crying. How could such an intimate act be reduced to this detached and impersonal business session? How was he supposed to perform when he would rather do anything else but this?
“Well?” Snape’s voice was impatient and Harry noticed goosebumps all over his visible skin, which wasn’t much.
“Well, what?” he snapped. “You’re not exactly arousing me to get it up!”
Harry flinched at his own harsh words and wanted to take them back, but he was so angry, and felt so hopeless that all he could do was take deep breaths to not storm out of the room. He wanted this, he had to keep reminding himself that he wanted this. That Snape offered. That the man wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either. That he was an Alpha, and Alphas were not known for their eagerness to surrender.
“I’m sorry,” he heard himself say, “I just… gimme a second.”
He used the lubrication charm on his cock and closed his eyes. Using his imagination, he made himself believe that Snape was eager for this, that they were both doing this because they wanted to, because this was what they desired. Not just children, but wanting to be with each other. And Harry could really go there; Snape was fascinating.
Harry imagined him in his arms, the evening when Snape couldn’t stop himself from surrendering, from eyeing Harry as if one kiss would solve all of his problems. He steadily hardened, trying to ignore the wet sounds in the otherwise quiet room and focused on his fantasy. Snape in his arms, looking at his lips, admiration in his eyes, gazing at him as if he was precious…
Letting go of his hard cock, Harry once again touched the man’s arse, kneading it firmly and not hesitantly as before. He felt the small shudder and tried to imagine it was from the anticipation and not disgust at his touch. Grabbing his wand again, he tapped Snape’s pale skin, at first cleaning him and then making him slick and stretched. Normally, he preferred to stretch his partners, but—
Better not go there. He wasn’t sure if he would get it up the second time.
But still, he had to ask, “Are you sure I can’t—”
“Just do it!”
Snape didn’t really shout but Harry could hear how uncomfortable he was, so before his cock flagged again, Harry slowly pushed in.
The man beneath him hissed. Harry knew it couldn’t hurt; the spell was designed well and he was very grateful for that. It wouldn’t surprise him if this was Snape’s first time bottoming, but he didn’t dare ask and he was sure Snape wouldn’t tell him even if it were the case. He wanted to play it safe just in case.
He bottomed out, wanting to give Snape time to get used to the stretch, but the man squeezed around him and moved impatiently and Harry sighed. Snape didn’t enjoy it, that much was clear. Harry just hoped that he would come quickly and not prolong the seeming torture for the man. It should be fairly easy since it had been a longer time than he would have liked for him.
He wasn’t a madman or a brute, but something told him that hard and fast was exactly what Snape was hoping for. But Harry couldn’t give that to him. He was slow and as gentle as he could be, drawing a frustrated growl out of the man.
“For fuck’s sake, just fuck me already!”
He was right. It didn’t even cause him any glee to be right. Harry didn’t want to cave in, but neither did he want to rile Snape up. It wasn’t worth it. Perhaps he should reevaluate the whole thing and ask himself whether all of this was worth the indignity.
Whenever Harry wanted to satisfy his partners and get them to the high with him, he would touch them. So his hand automatically went round Snape’s hips to grab his cock. Except he didn’t encounter a hot, hard erection like he expected but a completely flaccid cock.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Snape sounded extremely angry.
And Harry… Harry felt mortified. Snape wasn’t enjoying it, he just bore it because he offered himself to be an incubator for Harry’s children and Harry thought… what did he think? That this would be a summer romance and a happily ever after? That Snape would suddenly mellow if he showed him that he could make sex good for him?
Well, he didn’t make sex good for him. Likely the opposite.
His face was hot from shame and humiliation, he decided to listen to Snape and went at him hard and fast. Snape began to grunt with every thrust, likely from the force knocking his breath out, but Harry pretended he was enjoying himself, because deep down he feared that he wouldn’t be able to come if he allowed his mind to dwell on this.
He had to conjure up another fantasy, where he imagined that this was a quickie because they were both extremely horny, that he was doing this because Snape loved it this way, and he moaned a little, felt his approaching climax and focused with all of his being on that one fantasy where Snape actually wanted this, wanted him.
But when he finally came, there was none of the usual fanfare, none of the pleasantness that accompanied his every orgasm and made him drowsy. To the contrary, he felt jittery, as if he had some excess energy that he had to aim at something before it destroyed him from the inside out.
Pulling out slowly, he watched his come drizzle out of Snape, but just for a second. As soon as he stepped away, Snape redressed, mindless of the state he was in, nodded in his direction and then left with a wobbly walk, Disapparating even before Harry heard the front door close.
He sat down on the bed, stared ahead for some time before he realised his vision was blurred. He blinked and felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Taking off his glasses, he angrily wiped the tears off, but more were coming. Letting out a frustrated howl, Harry hit the showers, trying to wash away all traces of Snape.
He could still feel him even after an hour of intense scrubbing.
Harry should have taken the Monday off. He really should have.
“You alright, mate?” Ron asked, his concern evident on his face.
“Yeah, of course,” Harry brushed him off.
He should have taken the day to put himself back together. He spent the whole weekend in some kind of a limbo. Nothing around the house got done. Every time he spotted something that he should fix or be concerned with, he just looked at it and ended up pitying himself.
“You don’t look it.”
“That’s too bad.”
But instead of being ignored, he felt strong arms around him and he couldn’t stop the sob even if he put all of his effort into it.
“Blimey, Harry, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t say,” he whispered. Whispering didn’t bring forth tears.
“Alright. We’ve got paperwork to sort through, that can wait. Come on. Let’s get coffee, it will be almost empty at this hour.”
Harry allowed Ron to drag him away from their office and through deserted corridors to the Ministry canteen. It took them longer, but they didn’t run into anyone. Harry managed to walk on his own by the time they entered the canteen. Ron ordered for them both.
They were just about to sit, when Harry heard a voice he had absolutely no mood for.
“Hey, Potter!” It was Stephenson, an Alpha, who enjoyed showing off that he was better than Potter, The Potty Beta. The oaf had a steady influx of followers, mostly those who envied Harry’s fame and his fast climb up the DMLE ladder. The fact that it was due to his skills these bigots ignored.
“Fuck off, Stephenson,” Ron said tiredly.
“Aww, that’s so cute! You betas protect one another. I thought you didn’t form packs, and yet here you are.” Stephenson acquired a falsely sweet tone that grated on Harry’s nerves like never before. Looking up at him, he didn’t see a person, but a disrespectful Alpha. He would not be talked to in this way anymore. Hadn’t he earned his respect? Hadn’t he deserved his place among the senior Aurors?
“Fuck you,” Ron repeated, about to grab Harry’s arm so they could sit in the far corner, their favourite spot.
But Harry took a step forward, determination set in his every bone. Stephenson laughed. Harry growled and the man stopped, looking around as if trying to locate which Alpha had made that sound.
“One more word, Alpha,” Harry said, his voice a molten steel, “and you will know first-hand what it’s like to lose any respect.”
He watched as Stephenson tried to laugh, tried to brush it off, but his face formed a grimace instead of derisive laughter, and his stance was far from relaxed.
“How are you doing this, you freak?” He asked, aiming for a nonchalant tone, but Harry heard the uncertainty, the fear.
“That’s for me to know. One more word, do you hear me?”
Harry realised there was something in his voice, something he couldn’t put a finger on, but immediately knew that the Alpha would listen, that the Alpha would surrender.
“Yes, sir.”
Stephenson’s expression was one of surprise and fear. Harry hadn’t let him out of his sight until he was absolutely sure the man was gone from the canteen. Only then did he look at Ron. He was partly fearful of what he would see, but he should have known. Ron looked impressed and not at all scared.
“It was time someone finally showed that twat,” he said with humour.
They sat down and Ron continued, “So was that your Sigma speaking?”
Harry shrugged. “I think so. I could always ignore Stephenson, but now, I just… it didn’t feel right to let him off the hook this time. It’s as if I knew how.”
“So what changed?”
Harry opened his mouth but closed it with a snap and took a sip of the coffee. What could he say? That he fucked Snape and it what… unleashed the Sigma in him? He blinked when he realised the truth. He looked at Ron with wide eyes and suddenly knew.
“You’re a beta.”
Ron chuckled. “Yeah.”
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “What I mean is, I know. I really know you’re a beta.”
“Oh,” Ron replied, “congratulations! Did you find a book that explained it? Or did Snape help?”
Harry blushed. “You could say that Snape helped.” He couldn’t elaborate, however. Explaining his situation to Ron, to anyone… he didn’t think it was possible.
“Is that why you looked so awful? Did he threaten you somehow, or—”
“No!” Harry said a little louder than he intended. “No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t think he can threaten me, not now, not when I’m a Sigma. It’s just,” he paused, playing with his cup for a moment, “I imagined my life would take a completely different direction, you know? I hoped I would find someone, settle with them, have children, be happy…”
“Can’t you still?”
Harry looked up at his friend with all the misery he felt recently. “I don’t think so. Unless I give up on the children idea. I can’t—” he fell silent. At least he knew his answer. This was worth it. If it got him children, it was absolutely worth it.
“Harry, mate, if you ever need anything… if there's anything I or Hermione can do, we’re here for you. You’re not alone in this.”
Harry tried to smile, but he was sure it came out all wrong. “I know. And I appreciate it. This is just something that I will have to somehow figure out on my own.”
They drank the rest of the coffee surprisingly quickly. Ron put the cup down and Harry saw a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“What?” Harry asked in amusement.
“How would you like to go visit O’Flanelly?”
Harry laughed. “I’m not actively looking for trouble, you twat.”
“This isn’t trouble!” Ron said, faking offense. “But you know you have been postponing the data report for your latest case. There’s no time like the present, oh Great Sigma.”
Harry laughed again, some of the weight he had been carrying disappearing. Ron was an amazing friend.
Together, they walked the stairs to O’Flanelly’s office. Gilbert O’Flanelly was a robust, gingerhaired man who liked Ron but hated Harry for some reason. Harry never got a response on why he was always so hostile towards Harry, but Harry also never made a real effort to find out.
Ron knocked on his door. O’Flanelly opened the door, smiling jovially at Ron before his eyes slid over to Harry, immediately frowning. But Harry saw a change. The robust man’s eyes widened, and he took a respectful step back.
“So you finally embraced your nature.”
He beckoned them in and Harry couldn’t help but ask, “Is that why you hated me?”
“Disliked.”
“What an important distinction,” Harry said with sarcasm.
“I believed you to be above the societal rules,” O’Flanelly replied in disdain.
Harry bit his tongue to defend himself that he wasn’t aware of his nature and where he actually fit, but on a second thought, he didn’t feel the need to explain anything. No one could understand his predicament. They all knew what they were the moment their magic matured.
“Anyway, Gilbert,” Ron said, always finding their exchange amusing, “we’re here for the data report, if you would be so kind.”
“Ah, of course. We Gingers have to help each other. Just a sec.”
Ron grinned and Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently, it didn’t matter whether he embraced his nature or not. O’Flanelly simply didn’t like him, no matter what he claimed. It would always be something. He would rather the man was honest with him from the beginning. Like Snape. He knew what to expect from the Headmaster.
He blinked. He knew what to expect from Snape. The man never hid, never lied to him. He was always upfront. He might not disclose all the information, but that didn’t matter, did it? Snape was willing; willing to bear children, willing to bottom. Why, Harry didn’t know and wondered if it was in any way important. Maybe if he riled Snape up before sex, the man would let go, would show him what he liked, so Harry knew what to do? He wasn’t a stranger to bottoming. Maybe if he showed Snape that he didn’t mind, that he was there with him, maybe, just maybe—
“You alright, mate?”
Harry looked around and realised they were outside O’Flanelly’s office and that Ron had the blasted report.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am, I might have a way to deal with my situation.”
“Good for you, mate, good for you.”
Harry got ready for their next session. He even dug out his only dildo to practice on. Fairly sure Snape would use the spells he suggested Harry use, it was an easy guess as to how this would proceed.
By the time Harry was finished, he had a grin on his face and was panting heavily. He was more than ready for the blasted bastard.
When the owl finally came with the next time and date, Harry was so excited that he dressed up. He was supposed to show up at Hogwarts at Snape’s office this time. He was glad for the change in scenery, but he wondered what that signified for them. Alphas were usually territorial, so if Snape preferred to be in his own space, perhaps he was feeling threatened somehow? Harry didn’t understand it, but he had absolutely no problem with it.
He showed up at the man’s office in good spirits. Which seemed to throw Snape off a little.
“Successful raid?” the man asked as he motioned him inside.
“Nope, just staying positive,” he replied, smiling at Snape before looking around. On the shelf next to Snape’s desk he spotted the plant he gave the man and frowned. It didn’t look good to him.
But then Snape frowned in response and Harry smiled widely again. He wouldn’t let anything or anyone deter him from his good mood. This could succeed only if they wanted to, and Harry was more than willing to take the first step. Because maybe, just maybe if Snape saw that this worked, he might follow. And that was all Harry could ask of him, of them both.
“As I said in my letter, intercourse during my hormonal balance seemed like a poor choice. This time I am at the point where I am in the period before I hit my pre-rut phase. My Alpha traits are slowly surfacing, peaking at my rut, but that is jumping a little ahead.”
But Harry had his own plan. He seemed to unconsciously know more about Alphas than before, and he was aware that if he pushed just the right buttons, Snape would jump him, because he was just beginning to deal with the flood of his hormones.
“Right,” Harry said, a little gleeful. “So you’re ready to be taken again?”
Snape bristled. “As I mentioned before, I am willing to—”
Harry waved his hand. “Willing, eager, that doesn’t matter.”
“I suggest,” Snape hissed dangerously, “that you see this for what this is. Helping you attain a certain goal.”
Harry tried not to let that sting, not to overthink it. He knew Snape was on edge, he knew how biting his tongue and tone could be. But he had the upper hand.
“Right, because you’re not an opportunist who uses any situation to his advantage, hm?”
Snape was in his personal space in a heartbeat, his Alpha emerging quicker than Snape could control.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Mr Potter.”
“I’m not playing any game, Snape. Just stating out loud how things stand.”
He was surprised how much control Snape had. Had he been denying himself something throughout his life? And if so, what could it be? It seemed, it would take something specific to make him lose it.
“I was just wondering,” Harry continued, heedless of the dark look Snape was giving him, “Whether last time was your first time and if I was right and you should have let me finger you open instead of using the useless spell—”
Snape flung him against the wall and snarled in his face, “I’ll show you just how useless the spell is.”
Harry gasped and Snape sneered before he turned him around, facing the wall. “Not so brave now, are we?” The man said softly in Harry’s ear and Harry found himself growing hard slowly. Yes. If he could show Snape that sex with him could be good, he would win him over, he was absolutely sure about it.
Snape swished his wand and Harry shivered from the sudden cold when he found his trousers and underwear pooled around his legs. Anticipation coursed through him and he let it, trying to feel it with his whole body.
A tap against his hip had him clean from inside and he wiggled his arse just to be tapped again. Empty and slick, he waited until Snape would plunge in, show them both what they could have.
Snape entered him with a groan, a thrust so hard that Harry’s front hit the wall and he let out an “Ooomph!”
And when Snape began to slide in and out of him, Harry noticed that his movements were uncontrolled, brutal, careless, and whatever firmness Harry’s cock acquired soon diminished completely. He never would have thought that someone could be so bad at sex.
But then he realised why that was and he wanted to disappear and never show up again. Snape just didn’t care. He showed Harry once again, that being with him was a chore, another duty he set out to fulfil, never caring about him, not giving a single damn. Perhaps he wanted his children to have a financially stable background, or a huge family. Snape had to be aware that the Weasley family was part of his life. Perhaps the man wanted to ensure his children would be well taken care of.
Whatever the reason, as Snape groaned and came buried to the hilt, Harry understood that this could never be about him, because Snape would never make it about him. He didn’t like him, he probably just saw an opportunity and used it in the way Harry accused him of before.
He was such a stupid moron, he couldn’t fathom how he ever made it as a Senior Auror.
“Get out of my sight, Potter.”
Harry wished it was possible to Disapparate from Hogwarts. As it stood, he just redressed awkwardly and left Snape’s office without a backward glance.
This was the most stupid idea he had ever had.
Harry spent the better time of the month torn between the possibility of having children and being treated like the smelliest, dirtiest trash. Then he wondered what had happened to him that he had considered letting someone walk all over him, just so he could have something his heart desired. If this happened to any of his friends, he would be the first one to tell them to let Snape go, because something far better would come. Perhaps Harry was too pessimistic. Perhaps Snape wasn’t the only Alpha who would be this willing.
He knew it was a lie and he fully realised that what Snape had offered was the best deal he would ever get. But not for the price of losing any respect for himself. Because if he stayed in this deal, Snape would have some sort of power over him, would always hold his desire hostage and Harry would be powerless to leave the longer he stayed.
It was with a heavy heart but with a clear mind when he found himself at Hogwarts, entering the lion’s… well, the serpent’s lair.
“I haven’t sent you an invitation yet,” Snape remarked off-handedly, as if the matter was closed and Harry should take his leave.
If Harry needed further proof that he was just something ugly that Snape scraped from the bottom of his shoes, he needn’t go any further. His eyes fell on the plant again. Now that he felt calm, he noticed what was wrong with it. It wasn’t blooming, but neither was it withered. It existed somewhere in between, as if it was kept alive by sheer hope. Exactly how Harry felt. He wondered what made Snape feel like that. Harry blinked. Maybe once Snape was quit of him, it would fully bloom.
Harry’s heart clenched as he snapped, “I wasn’t aware that people needed to be granted an audience to talk to you.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether it was the words or his tone, but Snape froze and put his quill down as he looked up.
“I believed you were here for another matter. Please, take a seat.”
“So,” Harry began, impossible angry, “you can be civil to me, just not when we fuck.”
The Headmaster chose to ignore that, but Harry knew his remark made an impact because Snape couldn’t meet his eye. Served the bastard right.
“What is it that you wished to discuss?”
Well, if he went straight to the point, so would Harry. “The termination of our agreement.”
“Alright.”
Harry’s eyes widened. Just like that? He meant that little? Harry chuckled mirthlessly. “God, and I thought the Dursleys were cruel to me. But you didn’t care at all, did you? I don’t understand why you offered in the first place if the idea of being nice to me is killing you!”
He got up. This wasn't how he imagined it would go. Perhaps he didn’t know Snape at all.
He looked at the plant wondering how the petals looked ever since Neville described how the plant worked and stood rooted to the spot. It was completely withered. He didn’t understand any of it now. Glancing back at Snape, the man was looking at the plant as well with an unreadable expression. Harry was utterly confused.
“Can you explain that?” Harry asked softly. Why wasn’t it blooming?
“I don’t particularly care to, no,” Snape’s voice was barely audible, more of a whisper.
Harry didn’t feel any guidance from his Sigma either. Snape must have been on some powerful suppressants. Something that was easily rectifiable. Harry held out his hand and soon, a flask flew into his palm with a soft smack. He placed Snape’s cleansing potion on his desk.
“Drink this.”
“To what purpose?”
“So I’d know more. The suppressants you’re on are blocking my instincts.” At the widening of Snape’s eyes, Harry added, “Oh yes, apparently fucking you has helped me come to terms with my nature, imagine that.”
“You want me to expose my rut to your senses.”
Harry only tilted his head in a challenge. If Snape downed the contents, it would be akin to consent, to further find out what the bloody fuck was going on with the man.
To his surprise, Snape rubbed his face with his hand and with one last look at the plant, he drank the potion.
Harry remembered from last time, how Snape said that it would take a minute or two for his hormones to catch up and release to attract a mate. Nothing happened last time, but Harry hoped that now he’d know, that now—
He inhaled. This wasn’t Snape’s cologne, this was the most pleasant scent that he had ever experienced. If tortured, he would never be able to compare it to anything specific. All he could think of when he took another deep breath was that it smelled like new beginnings, like freedom. Like hope.
Harry looked at Snape again. The man’s breathing was harsh, his nostrils flaring, his knuckles white from gripping the desk too hard and Harry understood. His own scent must have pushed Snape into his rut a little earlier and the man was fighting his need with his entire being. How admirable.
And how utterly stupid.
“You will hurt yourself,” Harry said, “I can help.”
“The fuck you can,” Snape seethed through his teeth, “Get out!”
“No! You’re always kicking me out as if I don’t matter, as if I’m just something awful you stepped into and want to get rid of, but I’m a fucking human being, Snape!”
“SO AM I!” Snape bellowed as he stood up fast.
“I have never wanted to treat you as anything else, but you wouldn’t let me! You insisted on this, on this,” Harry waved his hand between them in frustration, “distance, this coldness, pushing me away even before we started! I wanted to see if we could be good together, get to know each other, maybe even be friends so that our children could grow up knowing love, no matter the kind! But you were so cold, so impersonal, you made me feel like a worthless piece of shit!”
Snape rounded his table, his eyes wide, his face looking demented. “Would you rather the opposite?” he rasped, moving so quickly towards Harry that he didn’t even realise he was backing up until he reached the wall and had no further space to retreat. “Would you rather I devoured you,” he said, licking Harry’s neck from the collarbone to his ear, and Harry gasped from the unexpected intimacy, “would you prefer I prostrated myself before you and moaned like a whore?”
“YES!” Harry shouted, Snape’s words twisting his insides as heat spread through his body. “God, yes.”
Harry’s body moved without his permission as he grabbed Snape by his hair and devoured his mouth. Snape moaned and Harry pulled him closer, trying to merge their bodies, trying to crawl inside the man. He simply had to content himself with helping Snape out of his clothes, without ripping them to shreds. Snape matched his passion, his needy desperation as, whenever he could, he removed Harry’s clothes in turn.
Having almost no patience, Harry managed to summon his wand. How Snape did that thing with his tongue he had no idea, but he finally got them naked. The first thing Harry did was grab Snape’s cock. He could sing when he found it hard and leaking.
Snape moaned, nibbling and biting along his neck, making Harry gasp as he wanked him happily.
“Was it your first time?”
“Which one?” Snape growled in response, returning to molest Harry’s neck.
It took Harry a while to figure out what the man implied.
“Oh my god. You’re such an idiot,” he gasped when Snape twisted his nipple.
Grabbing Snape’s hand, Harry pulled them towards Snape’s bedroom, putting his thoughts in order. Snape was protecting his inexperience from the start. If it wasn’t for that spell, Harry would likely at some point realise that the man had never done any of it, and knowing Snape, he must have thought that Harry would laugh at him. How ridiculous!
“You’re impossible,” Harry said as he pushed Snape on the bed, crawling after him. “I thought you were so disgusted with me that you found bottoming a chore because you’re an Alpha.”
“Yes, I’m an idiot, so you’ve said.” Putting his hand into the air, his fingers curled around a summoned vial, which he handed over to Harry. “Show me what you wanted to show me.”
“You really want to—”
“Yes.”
But Harry didn’t want any more half-truths, half-spoken things. He had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions and he would be damned if he missed his chance again.
“At this point, I need more than a yes, Severus,” Harry said sternly, sitting on Snape’s thighs, arms crossed against his chest, twirling the vial in the air.
Snape took a shuddering breath. “I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. When you showed up in my office, I felt something towards you which was impossible. I tried to cover my unease, badly at that.” His hands rested on Harry’s thighs, stroking them. “And then it turned out that you were something new, something special. And I was once again the idiot desiring an unattainable object. And then,” Snape chuckled, not in a nice way, “You claimed you could get an Alpha pregnant. You can’t imagine how that affected me. I was never desired by anyone, knew that I would never find an omega or beta to bear my children. Not with my past, not with my personality. And when you… I found myself ready to do anything but my hopes were virtually nil. I was certain you would find someone for yourself. But then you didn’t and I saw my chance.” Another mirthless chuckle. “I was so afraid that you would discover how desperate I was that you would use it against me. And I inadvertently pushed you away, once again fucking up the only chance I had been given.”
Severus looked him in the eye. “If I could have the rest of my life with you, I would do everything in my power to ensure you had all you ever wanted. You would never want for anything, our children would have everything they’d desire. Please,” he begged, “take me however you want.”
Harry leaned down and kissed him gently, lying on top of him, basking in the closeness. Severus had spent his entire life protecting himself. Harry should have known he wasn’t cold. This was the most passionate man in the world, after all.
Sliding to the side, Harry summoned his wand to tap Severus’s hips, letting the cleaning charm do its work. Tossing it away, he then popped open the vial Severus summoned, poured some of the contents on his fingers and let it hover nearby.
Looking the man in the eye, he said, “Open your legs for me.”
Severus bit his lower lip but obeyed and Harry slowly circled his rim. The man’s hips undulated against the inquiring finger.
“Does it feel good?” Harry asked.
“It would feel better if you pushed it in.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Harry replied, smirking, and saw heat in Severus’s eyes, which turned into arousal when Harry slid it inside.
Severus’s breathing quickened as his hips rode the single digit. He looked so hot spread out like that, unrestrained in his need.
“Adding another, be still for a second.”
Severus moaned but lay still until Harry wormed another finger inside him. Severus opened his legs a little more, thrusting against the fingers, and Harry let him, enjoying the view. They were both hard again, the frenzy from before turned into burning embers. It would take only one breath to start a fire.
Harry kissed him again, swallowing the man’s moan. This was what their first time should have been like, what Severus’s first time was supposed to be like. But no, the man had to be a stubborn idiot.
“Three fingers now,” Harry said as he pulled back only long enough to inform him before plundering his mouth again. Severus was very active in his response to Harry’s ministrations, but Harry could also see how overwhelming the pleasure was for him. It only fuelled Harry’s desire more.
“Are you ready, Severus? Are you ready for me?”
“Always,” he gasped, pulling Harry on top of himself, pressing his hips down to have their cocks rubbing together.
“Mhmm, hm, stop, Severus, stop, or I’ll come. I only want to come inside you.” Harry pulled away to coat his cock with more lube from the vial, before he stoppered it again, letting it fall, uncaring where it ended. “I want to breed you.”
Severus moaned, arching his back. “Yes! Yes, please!”
Harry shuffled closer to Severus’s arse, positioning himself, the man’s calves on his shoulders. “I think you know why my presence speeded up your rut. You want a baby as badly as I do, don’t you?” A moan was his only reply as Severus stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’ll give you a baby then. I’ll breed you, love, I’ll pump your arse full of my come and put a baby in you.”
He pushed inside just as Severus moaned, turning the sound louder, its pitch higher. When he bottomed out, he eased the legs from his shoulder to wrap them around his waist and leaned forward. Bracing himself on his hands, he started to move slowly, watching Severus’s face from above.
The man was out of it. Red cheeks, eyes glazed, half closed, mouth slack, drool slowly forming in the corners. He was magnificent.
“Harry,” he whimpered, his hands grabbing Harry’s arse and pulling him closer, his nails digging in the flesh.
Harry straightened, raised Severus’s bum slightly higher for the best angle, and grabbed his thighs pressed firmly against his chest.
“Hold on.”
That was all the warning he gave Severus before he let go, fucking him hard, not as fast as he dared, but enough to give the man no chance to think or recover.
Severus grabbed the bedsheets, moaning in abandon as Harry hit the bundle of nerves on almost every thrust. Harry loved seeing him so gone, the visual pushing him closer to the finish. He tried to last as long as he could, but his strength was slowly failing him and Severus’s moans and shouts were too much.
“Touch… your…. self,” Harry managed to say through gritted teeth, maintaining the tempo through sheer force of will now.
Severus’s hand snapped to his cock, pumping only a couple of times before his body shuddered violently as he came, pearly liquid coating his stomach. Tight heat gripped Harry’s cock and he grunted through the effort until he too was coming deep inside Severus, moaning his lungs out.
This was the sex that he always imagined having.
Harry slowly pulled out, helping Severus put his legs down, before he lay next to him, nudging him to lie on his chest. The man grunted but obliged, cuddling close.
“You were an idiot,” Harry panted.
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly,” came the grumbled response.
Harry kissed the top of his hair. “Why did you think you could get away with it your way?”
Severus supported himself on Harry’s chest as he leaned forward to kiss him. “Because, apparently, I was an idiot.”
Harry chuckled and then laughed, watching a small smile form on his man’s lips.
Luckily, they were both over that now
Two weeks later Harry stopped by Severus’s office. He finished earlier than he expected, so he sat in front of the man’s desk and watched the plant. It was his favourite thing to do now. Ever since that night, the plant bloomed, its delicate red petals interspersed with yellow specks against beautiful lush leaves.
But something new caught his attention and he got up to get a closer look. There, amongst the red was the same petal, but tiny and it wasn’t red but pink.
Harry looked at it, admiring it for a moment before his eyes widened impossibly.
“Severus!” he shouted into the empty room, his heart beating so fast he thought he’d faint.
Harry stood frozen in front of the plant watching the pinkish petals. He wanted to reach out and touch it but he was terrified of the consequences. How long had it been there? When did Severus notice? And did it mean what Harry thought it meant or was it just how the red petals came to be?
Only a moment later, the door to the Headmaster’s office opened and Harry whirled to see his lover, a small smile playing on the thin lips.
“Ah, you’ve noticed,” Severus said when he realised where Harry was standing, still rooted to the spot. “I only spotted it today as well. I just returned from Poppy. She’s not certain of the gender, but she confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”
Harry walked over to him as if in trance. Severus was still himself, nothing changed. And yet, Harry thought, as he put his hand on the man’s flat stomach, there was a baby growing inside of him. They did it.
Looking up, Harry leaned forward and kissed the wonderfully difficult man.
“How do you feel?” Harry asked, his voice carrying the awe he felt.
“Remarkably unchanged,” Severus replied. His smirk faded as he asked, “Now that this is no longer some vague notion and has in fact become real, do you have any regrets?”
Harry put a stray strand of the man’s hair behind his ear. “How could I? You just gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Ah,” Severus said, grasping Harry’s hand in his and kissing the knuckles. “Then I suppose I should time my deliveries so you don’t discard me as soon as I stop providing you with our offspring.”
Harry swatted his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll never get rid of you.” He watched Severus’s face relax before adding, “Who would take care of the children otherwise?”
He managed to duck just in time, letting the hex fly past. Running to the bedroom, he didn’t stop to look whether Severus was directly behind him as that would cost him precious seconds of his head start. But when the man did catch up to him, he wasn’t angry or upset, he actually had an air of contentment around him. How little was needed to take a step towards one’s happiness.
One simply had to stop being an idiot.