Title: Richly Adorned
Summary: A celebratory romp through society parties and lingerie shops.
Quite literally a "model citizen" Harry Potter has to hide everything about himself from his girlfriend, his best friends, and the world. When he finds out he and Severus Snape have much in common, their relationship only becomes another one of his secrets. Will the proud Potions Master tolerate being a skeleton next to the knickers in Harry's closet?
Warning: DH spoilers, Crossdressing, and Harry/Ginny
Part: 1/7 ((Click here for Part One, Part Two, Part Three, or Part Four))
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am earning no money for this work.
Dedicated to a few folks at snarryficfind</lj>
Professor Severus Sydney Patrick Prince-Snape, renowned war-hero and Potions master, beneficiary of the Dumbledore estate, and returned expatriate, was seen leaving a high-end lingerie boutique in muggle London. Or at least, that's what Ginny told Harry as she thumbed through the latest copy of Witch Weekly. Harry James Potter, a man so famous that the reasons why need not be named, slid a hand down his face. Again, he felt the relief of having not been caught himself. After all, the Professor had seen him there.
"Mrs. Potter has retained her figure through the pregnancy?" the shop-staff asked Harry as he inspected the armload of garments she'd collected for him. Moments prior, Harry had slid past the meager handful of other customers, expertly avoiding looking at them as he always did. Once at the counter, he asked in a whisper for all the latest styles in "the usual size."
"Ugh, I... um... well she..." Harry sputtered as his loathing for lies battled with his instinct of self-preservation. Among muggles, Harry was a celebrity simply for being a print-model. He'd stumbled into the career much the way he'd stumbled into defeating Voldemort multiple times. He hadn't been aware that muggles paid attention to rumors about him.
"No man would notice a growing waistline when there are fuller breasts and the glow of motherhood to be observed." said a voice from behind Harry. The same velvet-tone of silk on razorblades that had haunted Harry for years crept up the back of Harry's neck and he wasn't immediately struck by how close Snape had chosen to stand.
"Oh! Of course not!" the clerk giggled, her voice a delightful peal that roused Harry from the trance Snape's had instantly put him under. "I'll go in the back and pull out some things from our maternity collection in a larger size, then. Shall I?"
Harry sputtered again but she didn't stay for an answer.
"So, Mr. Potter. An affair after less than a year? You never were one to stick with anything. Quidditch came and went. Dumbledore's Army: Tragically short-lived. Even your endorsement career has shown a lack of loyalty. Flourish and Blotts then Tomes a Billion. Astonishing." Severus observed casually as he plucked a tiny camisole from the top of Harry's pile of prospective purchases.
Severus had always been adept at pushing Harry's buttons, but he so rarely hit below the belt after the war. Harry Potter was most definitely not having an affair. He hadn't been allowed to continue playing Quidditch back at Hogwarts. The need for Dumbledore's Army had quickly evaporated. Flourish and Blotts hadn't renewed their contract with him after he questioned their lack of muggle literature. Then Tomes a Billion donated galleons toward expanding Muggle Studies programs in wizarding schools, worldwide. He had his reasons and he didn't need to explain any of them to Severus Bloody Wanker Snape. Especially since he had no idea what Severus was getting at.
"What are you on?" Harry asked as he snatched the silky garment away from Snape. "You think you know so much, but none of this is any of your business."
"Oh, but I do "know so much" as you've put it." Severus grinned. Harry always hated it when his former professor grinned. His smile was never joyous and always made Harry feel like a tiny field mouse about to be devoured by a big, black snake. "Ginerva Weasley, a busty girl with a Quidditch-player build and childbearing hips inherited from her mother, would never in her life fit into these ensembles. They are small and shapeless, more suited to meek or masculine forms. The "usual size," indeed."
Harry gulped, feeling that perhaps Severus did "know so much." He was only relieved that the man had come to the conclusion that Harry was cheating and not that he was some pervert in a pair of knickers. Which he was.
"Should you be eyeing my girlfriend like that?" Harry squeaked. He'd hoped to sound bigger and angrier. Perhaps the reluctantly balled fist communicated his feigned ire. He was mostly just scared and wanted to leave. He eyed the door, wondering how the muggle clerk would feel if he left without buying anything. After all, she couldn't use magic to restock the storeroom.
"Well you certainly aren't. Did you start the pregnancy rumor just to cover your tracks, Mr. Potter?"
Harry paled. He and Ginny hadn't started the pregnancy rumor at all, but both were reluctant to interview and the gossip had only spread as they refused to comment. How did Snape know he'd never touched her?
Oh, of course! Snape didn't know. Anyone with proper sense could see that Ginny wasn't pregnant and Severus only wanted to get Harry worked up. Harry sighed, hoping a bit of color had returned to his cheeks.
"I am not cheating on my girlfriend, Severus Snape." Harry gritted out in less of a squeak.
Snape's left brow perked and he allowed his eyes to take a trek down and back up the length of Harry's body. He then glanced at the pile of lace to the younger man's right. Suddenly, seeming satisfied with his assessment, he met Harry's eyes and purred a silky "Ah, I see." before leaving the boutique through the front door.
Harry's heart lurched to a complete stop. Snape didn't see. His unbeating heart dropped into his belly. Did he?
He left a generous tip for the soon-to-be-overworked clerk and stumbled into a dressing room to apparate out.
Harry heard Ginny calling his name repeatedly and eventually came to himself. The memory of that chance encounter with Snape had drowned him in anxiety and he tried his best to not look distressed when he turned to his girlfriend. Ginny Weasley shook the magazine at him.
"I was asking if you knew whether or not Professor Snape had a girlfriend. You two always seem to chat when we're at those stupid parties, but he never brings anyone with him." Ginny repeated.
"A... a girlfriend?" Harry asked, baffled by the question.
"Yes, sweetheart. Someone he's going to panty shops to buy thongs and nipple-pasties for."
"But he didn't buy anything."
"What? How do you know?" Ginny frowned as she opened the magazine and turned back to the article about their former teacher.
Harry snatched the gossip rag from her and eyed the moving photo of Snape continuously exiting the shop door looking smug and self-absorbed. He was again nauseated by how close he'd been to getting caught. He never gave Ginny dainty gifts. She was an athletic tomboy through and through. That's one reason he'd imagined he could be happy asking her to live with him. If someone had seen him leaving a lingerie shop, she'd surely suspect he was buying panties for some other woman. She'd be devastated. She was already suffering by dating a man that never touched her.
"Uh... he doesn't have any parcels. He didn't buy anything. See?"
"Oh, well, sure... but he could have shrank them and tucked them into a pocket, yeah?" Ginny took a quick glance at the page as she moved out of their kitchen to grab a sweater.
"Um... you said it was in muggle London, though. He wouldn't shrink his bags in front of muggles." Harry watched as she reappeared near the line in the floor that separated the linoleum of their kitchen from the carpet of their living room. She was still pulling the sweater over hear head as she talked.
"True, true... hmmm. But he still went into the shop. There's a reason." Ginny responded. She blew him a kiss and slipped on a pair of rain boots before grabbing an umbrella at the front door.
"I suppose." Harry murmured as the door closed behind Ginny.
The next time Harry saw Severus Snape was at a gala event hosted by Tomes a Billion. Harry hated the advertisement banners that showed him browsing books in their flagship store and talking about the great selection and budget-conscious prices. Thankfully they were all muted for the affair. Ginny unlatched his arm the moment she eyed her Hogwarts classmates and Snape appeared at his side the moment she was gone.
Harry had managed to shake off the anxiety of nearly being discovered by his former teacher and then the rest of the wizarding world at the lingerie shop in the previous month. He didn't want Snape coming around working on his nerves, again. He was already regretting his choice of undergarments for the night and didn't need Snape aggravating him, further.
"A pleasure to see you, professor. Goodnight." he said quickly as he downed his glass of champagne in a single gulp and dashed away on the pretense of grabbing another. He briskly crossed the ballroom in a manner that had to look awkward. All of his most recent lingerie purchases had been bright-colored and stiffly starched. He usually enjoyed the idea of being secretly beautiful and trendy under his dress robes, but the lace used to form the latest style was scratching against his nipples and making him strongly consider shaving his bollocks.
Thankfully, Snape wasn't the type to follow a person around like a lost dog. Once Harry was on the other side of the room, he was relatively safe from ridicule. However, he was not at all safe from Snape's gaze. Eyes seemed an innocent thing next to Snape's razor wit and tongue, but they were just as deadly if not more so. The looks went from amused, as if he had some secret knowledge about Harry that he found laughable to piercing as if he could undress the younger man with a glance. Harry rather liked to believe the idea of Severus undressing him was sickening, but he felt a stir underneath his dress robes that spoke volumes of the opposite.
Said stir pressed his usually disinterested and placid cock harshly against the inflexible lace of his new panties. The sensation was anything but comfortable and all thigh flexing done in an attempt to discreetly scratch only helped to make him harder.
As the evening drew to a close, Harry began to regret imbibing his last three or four drinks. He thought being drunk would make him too relaxed to maintain an erection. He'd never been very good at thinking. Giddy, he did his best to discourage hugs as he gave his goodbyes. Vowing to never wear lace again, he was sure that if Severus Bloody Wanker Snape could give him a boner, anything could. Perhaps, he was regressing and would have the hormonal reactions of a teenage boy to every passing bloke?
The idea of needing to talk to Ginny about very important things very soon was very daunting. Feeling mildly terrified helped to curb his enthusiasm just a bit. Enthusiasm sufficiently doused, he was glad that the itching stopped. He was also glad to be able to hug Molly Weasley when she approached. His fear turned into horrible guilt. Even under Verituserum he'd be able to say that he loved Ginny and had asked her to date him because he wanted to be with her forever. It was only later that he began to see something was wrong with him.
The word "wrong" eventually evolved into "different" as he found he simply wasn't attracted to women. In his teen years Harry had responded with equal vigor to fantasies about both genders. He'd never had a real crush other than Cho. His brain melting around Fleur didn't count. Realizing he was recounting his entire life story in his own head as if preparing for Molly to ask him about his sex-life, Harry gave his would-be mother-in-law another squeeze around her girdled waist and let her go.
"I love you, Mrs. Weasley." he said to her in a voice more slurred than he'd expected. She gave him an amused smile and pat on the head. After kissing Harry on the cheek, Molly glided across the dance floor with a straight-backed walk she never used at home. Arthur gave a jovial wave from the door and he flailed his arm in response. Good God, when had he gotten so drunk?
"Itchy?" a dark voice ghosted across the back of Harry's neck. He tensed as much as his drunken state would allow and whipped around. Once facing Severus, he saw the man was bent slightly to match Harry's much shorter height. Though the synapses dribbled more than fired, he realized that Snape had been breathing on his neck on purpose. To his horror, he realized he liked it.
"I'm with Ginny." he blurted out.
"I'm aware." Severus blandly stated, his breath ghosting across Harry's lips before straightening to his full height.
Harry stared up at Severus for longer than he'd intended. Snape was not pretty. He was all hard edges and his face and neck had a tad too much skin. There were wrinkles that hadn't been there when Harry was a first year and slight discolorations on his cheeks and forehead from healed wounds and age. Severus' eyes were striking with their darkness but otherwise unimpressive. His lips were thin and always criticizing. His nose was a large, unattractive hook.
Yet, somehow Harry wanted those lips on his throat. He wanted that nose pressed behind his ear, nuzzling into his hair. He wanted to put his hands on his former teacher's face and see his own skin, taut and vibrant, contrasted against Severus' papery folds. Not only was he a sick fuck wearing ladies underwear to a perfectly respectable party, he wanted to jump some old guy's bones on the dance floor.
"Mr. Potter, you act as if you've somehow seen a ghost."
Harry shook his head. He always forgot to avert his eyes away from Snape, but trusted the man not to read his mind without permission. As for the ghost remark, they'd already had that argument. Severus had disappeared to South America for months, directly after Voldemort's demise. After the scene in the shrieking shack, Harry had lived in turmoil over his supposed death. Upon Snape's return, Harry was hysterical. The younger man had made a few regrettable remarks as well as thrown a few regrettable punches. Severus, always classy when it could serve to make another person look like an idiot, had simply righted his robes after the assault. He wasn't too classy, however, to forego giving Harry a verbal dressing down.
Apparently, wizarding deaths were recorded in some ridiculous book in the Ministry and all Harry had to do was look at it to know Severus survived. He'd taken another of his many opportunities to call Harry a stupid, impulsive boy and that had been the end of it.
Well, the end of that discussion at least. There seemed to be no end to Harry being forced to spend time in the same room as Severus Snape. Snape was just as much a hero as he and, if not for the Black estate joining the Potter fortune, just as rich. They were invited to the same parties, ceremonies, and dinners. They were on the covers of the same magazines. Snape, a man that had seemed so private during Harry's Hogwarts years, approached the life of a celebrity with the same grace and confidence he approached potions with. Harry had always imagined the man to be poisonously hot-tempered. He wondered if Snape had changed or if Harry was the only person that made him fly off the handle.
"Seeing as you seem incapable of answering my original question, I'll save you the effort and simply leave you with some advice." Severus began. Harry blushed as he remembered what question had started the conversation.
"The less-costly, lower-quality pieces, usually of a spandex/poly blend will stretch sufficiently when times are," Severus paused for effect and to darken his smirking look into something breathtakingly powerful, "...hard."
Before Harry could force out the breath he hadn't realized he'd held, Severus was gliding toward the door with the same stiff gait as Molly.
Jarred back into reality by his girlfriend's sudden attachment to his arm, Harry steadied his breathing and hoped Ginny attributed any subsequent awkwardness to the alcohol. Despite his intoxication, his cock was hard again and making a mess of his lace knickers with slow but steady pulses of precome. He didn't want to imagine what horribly embarrassing thing would have happened if Snape had kept talking to him. The idea that Severus was old, ugly, and sadistic barely overrode the fact that Severus knew and seemed to approve of exactly the kind of pervert Harry was. In fact, Harry was beginning to wonder if old, ugly, and sadistic was just the sort of thing he wanted.
Severus was already in Harry's favorite boutique when he arrived the following day. As the door clicked shut, Harry took note of Snape's backside. The professor was dressed as a muggle. Harry realized Snape had probably been in muggle clothes the last time, but he'd been in no position to savor the sight. Pants of pressed denim clung to Snape's slender, but muscled thighs like a second skin and disappeared into his calf-high, leather boots. With his white shirt tucked in and a thin belt at his hips, Severus looked almost like he was ready to ride a horse right off the cover of a romance novel. His waist was impossibly narrow and something about the shape of his torso tickled at Harry's subconscious but the younger man was too struck by the gestalt of Snape's appearance to concentrate.
The owner emerged from the storeroom and her gaze fell on Harry with an overjoyed smile. Severus finally turned. Harry shrank under Snape's gaze, as he usually did.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter! I was surprised when you left the other day. I was hoping I hadn't offended you." the woman said as she rounded the counter to give Harry a hug. Harry was quite fond of the old seamstress and was embarrassed to even ask if she made anything out of stretchy polyester, considering her whole shop was filled with hand-woven and vintage lace.
"Oh, not at all. I was called away. I apologize."
"Dear boy, no apologies necessary. I know how it is with pregnancies. Thank goodness you kids have cellphones so you can go running in an emergency. Is she okay?"
Harry tried not to notice Severus perking a brow over the woman's shoulder. With his arms folded across his chest and posture ramrod straight, Severus even looked threatening when amused. Harry wanted to back out of the door and never return. He hadn't even realized he'd been growing rigid in his panties until mention of Ginny had him wilting.
"Ah, it wasn't a pregnant call, but yes... she’s great. And cellphones. Yes. Cellphones and emergencies." Harry mumbled.
"Retained your talent for incoherent speech, I see." Severus chuckled from the counter. Harry had never heard the man chuckle and looked to see if perhaps he'd mistaken someone else for his worst nightmare.
"You know each other?" the shop-staff asked with a grin.
"Why yes, Claudia. Mr. Potter is a former student of mine." again, Severus' tone was anything but scathing. Harry was suddenly jealous that this woman obviously got to see a side of Severus he hadn't even known existed.
"Oh, how awkward then to run into each other, here." the woman smiled at Harry.
Awkward didn't begin to describe what it was to see Snape at a lingerie shop when Harry was there to take his advice on panty choices.
She then turned to Severus, "Perhaps you'd like to discuss the rest of your transaction in my office, then?"
"Not at all." Severus peeled his gaze from Harry to settle on the seamstress.
"Ah..." she glanced from Snape to Harry and then shrugged. Approaching her cash register, she rattled off the particulars of Snape's order. "Well then, that's two in the Claudette style. One in the ice-blue brocade and the other in black PVC. Then there's the Josephine in brown, distressed leather. All twenty-six inches with steel boning and color-coordinated, coated grommets. Let me remind you that the coating will chip and that was your request, not my suggestion. In any case, any preference when it comes to laces, Severus?"
"Of course, dear. That's half, up-front and half upon pick-up. Alright, love? Two-hundred and twenty-six."
"The thigh-highs for the black Claudette?" Severus inquired.
"That's included, love. As are the gloves, garter-belt, and mask. I just thought you'd like me not to mention them." She glanced at Harry on the word "not."
Severus chuckled, again.
Somehow, Harry felt he'd been allowed in on some dark secret as he watched Severus pass the muggle woman a credit card. Brocade, boning, grommets, and laces. They all had some meaning that Harry couldn't quite grasp. He definitely knew what PVC was and felt both disgusted and intrigued by the idea of encasing his limbs in the stuff. He wondered who Severus shopped for.
Staring after the man as he left the store, Harry felt shocked that Snape hadn't taken another moment to insult him. He seemed surprisingly well-behaved in front of Claudia. Perhaps he was avoiding giving Harry the urge to hex him in front of a muggle.
"Er... we're, uh... looking for new knickers, now." Harry finally worked up the courage to talk when he was sure Severus was gone. "Stretchier. The lace is a bit uncomfortable."
"Oh, yes. With the weight-gain it's nice to be able to adjust. Same size or a tad larger?"
Harry wondered if having more room to expand would help or hurt. He purchased multiple styles in multiple colors and sizes.
"What a lucky girl you've got at home, Mr. Potter!" she beamed, "You spoil her so much!"
Harry gave a lopsided grin as he left the store. He tried not to contemplate his nerves and guilt as he walked away from the store with his head down. He could only apparate out of a dressing room when Claudia was in the storeroom or at least busy with another customer. She'd stood at the counter and given him the absolute best customer service as he pretended to browse a bit longer. Seeing that she wanted to stick around in case he needed her, Harry finally slid out the front door.
"Potter. Follow me." Harry heard Severus's voice but saw nothing. He paused long enough to take a few bewildered looks around.
Harry looked down and saw a small, glowing squirrel looking imploringly up at him as it stood on its hind legs. Confused, he took a step toward the tiny animal and it galloped a few feet away only to turn and look at him, again. The voice repeated itself and after another look around, Harry was following a squirrel through London, trying to look nonchalant. Thankfully, whenever he stopped to check his surroundings or heft his surprisingly heavy bag, the squirrel stopped to wait for him. Nobody else seemed to notice the animal or the voice. Harry shrugged both off as some interesting bit of magic.
Finally, he was standing on the fourth floor of a tall apartment building. The place seemed nice and hadn't had any security out front like the place Remus and Tonks lived in. The squirrel finally stopped running up stairs and stopped to scratch on the door into the hallway. Once Harry opened the door, the creature dashed off and he followed it to an apartment. He rattled the handle and wasn't surprised when it didn't open. He inspected the door and the squirrel that was waiting patiently in front of it.
"Snape, I didn't know you were a squirrel-animagus." he whispered down to the animal as he bent slightly at the knee.
"That's because I'm not, you idiot boy." Severus snarled. Harry jumped. One glance away and he hadn't even realized the door had opened.
"But... but your voice..."
"Recorded onto your glasses. Potter, you've gone incredibly soft after the war. I could have wandlessly hexed the nose from your face and you wouldn't be any the wiser." Snape perked a brow at Harry and said, "Finite Incantatem."
"Oh!" Harry said, a grin on his face as he looked back down at the shimmering animal, "You have a squirrel patronus!"
"No, you imbecile I do not have a squirrel patronus! You know very well what my bloody patronus is! SHUT UP and come inside!" Snape barked as he snatched Harry through the threshold and snapped another wandless finite incantatem at the woodland creature. The squirrel, suddenly surprised and incredibly confused, ran around in a circle before darting down the hall toward the stairs.
The older man sighed as he closed his door behind the two of them. When Severus turned to Harry, however, he could only roll his eyes. Harry Potter looked absolutely crestfallen.
"What. Is. It." Only Snape could make a simple question sound like a hex.
"You.... you used imperious on a squirrel?"
"Damn it! How can you be so obtuse ninety-nine percent of the time? It's a simple homing spell. It uses an animal's natural instinct for finding the place it came from. The incantation replaces their actual home with the caster's. I modified the Latin to make it believe you were one of its young."
As Severus spoke, he shucked off his jacket and hung it on the rack near the door, drawing Harry's eye with every movement. Harry was shocked to see a black, metal structure holding Snape's miscellany of muggle coats and absolutely no wizard robes. Struck by the thought, he turned to eye the rest of the room. Despite being rather cramped, considering how easily Snape's presence seemed to fill a room and suffocate the other occupants, Severus' living room felt well-lit and open. The white walls reflected the sunlight streaming in through Snape's uncovered windows. The wall opposite the entrance displayed three, large photographs. In thin, black frames with wide, white mats where three black and white photos unlike anything Harry had ever seen.
Intrigued, he stepped around Snape to move closer. He approached them slowly, taking in the three very different but obviously related abstract pieces. Each was a collection of lines like looking at partially constructed or deteriorating buildings from odd angles. Each moved. Not like a wizard painting that had some essences of the people and animals portrayed, but like a few moments caught on camera. Panning left, right, back and forth. Flying around, underneath and over. The photos seemed to celebrate the metal beams, nuts, bolts, and screws. Harry had never even noticed the art around him, but these photos were beautiful. A mixture of muggle technology and magic. They moved him.
"Any thoughts, Potter?" Severus asked, his voice soft and nearby.
"You think I'm smart?"
"The... the other..." Harry realized he truly did sound like an idiot. "Theotheronepercentofthetime."
Severus huffed at him and snatched the bag of ladies underwear from his hand. Pulling Harry into a possessive kiss, the underwear tossed aside and forgotten, Severus walked the two of them toward his couch. Harry, whom had entered the kiss with shock and confusion, passionately devoured his former teacher's mouth while straddling the man's hips. His knees digging into the couch felt strange and the shift from shorter than Severus to overtaking him inspired a rush that made Harry's cock ache for friction.
He'd never been grabbed, before. He'd never stumbled across a room, lost in desire, before. Harry had never wanted someone with such blind need, before. He'd never just not cared how bad or good he was at kissing as long as the kiss never ended. He groaned as Severus pulled away from his lips and began to blaze a trail of subtle bites along his neck. He wanted to know what that was like. To bite someone.
Sliding backwards, closer to the edge of the couch, Harry leaned down and kissed just under Snape's jaw. The man seemed to vibrate as if purring and Harry was dizzy with power. He'd never felt so wanted. Without remark, Severus tilted his head back to give Harry better access.
Rearranging himself so that he could wrap his arms around Severus, Harry met strong resistance around Snape's abdomen. At first he imagined that despite his lithe frame, Severus was so well-muscled that there was nothing to give in to embracing arms. Then, he realized the sensation was familiar. Women in ballrooms.
"You're..." Harry pulled back to look Snape in the eyes. Said eyes were dark and looked practically drunk with lust.
"You're wearing a bloody corset!" Something in Harry's face must shown amusement or apprehension as he spoke, because Snape rose to the challenge.
"Which knickers do you have on, Mr. Potter? A dainty lace number that's ripping under the pull of your hard cock against the inside of your jeans? Perhaps a more resilient and less absorbent spandex piece? Is the purpling head of said cock smearing the front, making a dark stain across pastel flowers?"
A shudder went through Harry and both his hands dove into Snape's hair as their lips reunited. Lips still connected, Harry reached between their bodies to undo his jeans. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to be out of his clothes. He wanted another human being to finally see his skinny boy-hips jutting over the waistline of delicate girl-garments. Severus pulled out of the kiss, again, but this time gave Harry an incredulous look.
"Keep your knickers on, boy! I'm not going to sleep with you." Severus spat as he pushed Harry off of him and onto the floor. Harry only narrowly missed Snape's coffee table because he'd been pushed to the right of it.
Sprawled on the rug with his legs bent at awkward angles and fly unbuttoned, Harry looked every bit the bewildered, naive student that had been thoroughly debauched by his teacher. As a man that loved to play mindgames, Severus closed his eyes against the tempting sight.
"I won't be your paramour, Potter. Figure out what you want to do with yourself and we'll talk again once you've decided."
"I didn't start this! You brought me to your house like some old pervert at a nightclub!"
"If I were like some pervert at a nightclub I would have had you pressed against the side of that boutique with your face grating against a brick wall. It would have been quite a show for the paparazzi. I'm sure they'd love to snap photos of me plunging mercilessly into your flat ass." Baggy jeans or not, Snape saw Harry's cock twitch as he spoke. He never should have opened his eyes! Gathering up all the malice he would fake, Severus growled, "Now, get up, button your pants, and LEAVE."
"You're crazy! You old bastard, you're a schizophrenic tease! Why'd you even do this? Bringing me here you old... crazy... fuck..." Harry shouted as he stood and fumbled with his pants. They were sliding down his hips and he didn't know why he hadn't worn a smaller size. Frustrated, he pulled them up and tried to hold the waist steady with an elbow in another attempt to button them. He felt like a small boy, again. Embarrassed and fuming at the Potions Master.
"I did this to save your life. I'm rather in the habit, now." Harry heard Severus say. The soft tone took him by surprise and his fumbling fingers froze on his waistband. Severus' slender hands came into view and gently swatted Harry's away. He expertly slid the thick, metal button into place and righted Harry's waistband with a single tug.
Their eyes met and Harry was sure all the anger had drained out of his face. Lips pursed and brow not-quite-so-critical, Severus heaved a sigh.
"Go home to your girlfriend, Potter."
Harry felt like a real heel when Ginny shook an issue of Witch Weekly in his face a few weeks later.
"What are you doing buying thongs and nipple-pasties at a panty shop!?" she screeched at him as she tossed the magazine onto his lap during breakfast. There was a picture of a very embarrassed Harry Potter continuously exiting the boutique holding a bag filled to the brim with multicolored fabrics. The headline flashed "Playtime for Ginny!" and Harry was glad the public assumed he was a normal man doing normal things for his normal girlfriend. Ginny knew better.
"Honey, I just..."
"Look, Harry if you don't want me. If I'm not your type. Harry just... if it's not working out. I just... just for the love of Merlin, just fucking leave me! Kick me the fuck out! Don't fucking cheat on me with some other fucking..."
By the time her rant had dissolved into incoherent shouting, Harry had summoned the bag of his most recent purchases down the stairs. The white, paper bag landed on the table near Ginny's breakfast plate and she blinked at it in sudden silence.
"I wasn't sure what size to get." he said, unable to look at her as she poked the overflowing bag.
She took his averted gaze as embarrassment and smiled at him. "Oh God, Harry. I'm sorry. Thank you. I know you'd never do me wrong."
Harry stood up from the table, still not quite able to meet Ginny's gaze. He glanced at her a few times before walking toward the door to grab his coat. Coat in hand, he stood staring at it for a moment. He knew leaving would just make her feel guilty. He knew he didn't want to make her feel guilty. Yet, he couldn't cope with his own guilt well enough to sit still and finish his food.
"Harry, I didn't mean it. I just... it's just... you and me, we just have this whole... thing between us. I never know what to think."
Harry stalked back over to the breakfast table to give Ginny a hug. An awkward hug. It felt and looked exactly like what it was, an afterthought and grudging obligation.
"I love you, Ginny. I know you love me. We have... a... thing. Yes. Between us. I'm sorry about it." He managed to make his eyes meet hers. She looked confused but unsurprised. "We do love each other, though. I do love you. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known and the only one I've ever loved."
"Harry, I feel like there's a "but." I know when you're talking and you're only telling me half."
"But... I didn't know anything about myself a year ago." He could have said "8 months ago," alluding to the day she moved in but couldn't bring himself to do it.
"...and now you do?"
"And now I know a little more."
"Ginny, don't shut down like this."
"I'm not shutting down. I'm just thinking." she said, finally pulling the bag off of the table to look at its contents. "You want me to dress sexier?"
"What? No! I mean, it's fine if you want to, but I'm not asking you to change. I just wanted to get something nice."
"Something... sexy. For sex. For us to have sex." Ginny seemed more confused than anything, but there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.
Harry's look of terror couldn't have been encouraging.
"Harry, I know seeing thousands of redheads at all of my family gatherings scares the shit out of you. It freaks me out, too. It's one reason I moved in with you. You remember? So I could get out of that crowded house."
"No it's not that, it's just that I need to figure out..."
"There are things we can do, yeah? Spells, potions, other stuff. I'm not going to get knocked up and pop out seventeen babies at our first go."
"No, Ginny, it's just something we've got to work out. I've got to work out..."
"I mean, I know mom was pregnant when they got married... and grandma... and Fleur... and Angelina..."
"Ginny, you're not listening. It's not about kids it's just that maybe I'm..."
"...and most of my aunts. Oh, but Harry, come on! I don't even want kids! I want a home of my own, to keep playing with The Canons, and even though I complain, I -like- all your stupid society-parties. The last thing we need is a fucking ba..."
"Ginny, maybe I'm gay!"
Ginny's lack of response couldn't have been encouraging.
Harry returned her blank expression for a full minute, hoping he hadn't really just said that.
"That's what Cho said." Ginny finally stated. She seemed to be speaking through a trance.
"That's... Cho... what?"
"Cho said you were gay. Told most of the school." Ginny stood up and began clearing the breakfast table as if her entire life hadn't just upended itself, "I figured she's a pretty, popular girl that's not used to rejection. I gave her a right beating for that one."
"She... You what?"
"I kicked her ass, Harry." Ginny stopped and looked at him as if he were an idiot. Actually, he really was an idiot. "I beat the shit out of her and made her friends heal her. I told her that if I ever got in trouble for it, I'd do it again since I'd be getting expelled, anyway."
Harry gaped at her.
"I suppose I owe Cho an apology." Ginny murmured to herself as she resumed her cleaning. Without pausing as she crossed the room to collect pans off the stove, she asked, "Did you cheat on me?"
Harry nearly fainted from the shift in the conversation.
"No. I've never cheated on you. I did..." memories of Severus flashed through Harry's head, "I've considered it. I mean... just to see if I'm right, you know? I'm still a virgin. I don't even know what I want. I'd do anything for you. I'd die for you, Gin... but I just don't. I don't know about... other... things."
Ginny turned to stare at Harry. Her face changed as if she were seeing him for the first time. Her look softened more than he'd ever expected it to after that confession and she simply frowned at him.
"I understand if you hate me. I understand if your whole family will hate me and I can never see any of you, again. ...I suppose I'll lose Hermione by default. Shit." Harry didn't feel any remorse for who he was, but felt a ton of it for dragging Ginny into his journey of self-discovery. Perhaps that's why people always said "fools rush in."
"You've never... with anyone?" Ginny asked.
"You've never had sex? Not with Cho. Not with a boy. Not with anyone?"
"Well I know that. I've bloody snogged you. But... I mean... you do know I'm not a..."
"I know." Harry responded, "That's not important to me."
"Harry, it's important to me!" Ginny said, her eyes pleading and her voice going shrill. She turned her back on him, trying to maintain some level of control over her voice and actions. She approached the sink with her pile of cookware. "I don't want to raise you, Harry. I want to marry a fully-grown man whenever I settle down. Imagine if we'd not moved in together before you proposed, love? I'd be married to a very confused boy that had never stepped out into the world to experience things on his own."
Harry didn't quite know how he felt about that. He'd toppled a Dark Lord! Wasn't that man enough? He supposed he was lucky she wasn't yelling.
"So, you're not angry with me?" Harry ventured to ask.
"Angry!!! Fucking Angry!?" Ginny tossed the dishrag she'd just picked up back into the sink, "Harry, I'm livid! I want nothing more than to bash your stupid face in!"
Harry backed toward the door.
"But... of course I'm grateful, too." Ginny added, her voice lowering.
"Harry, love. Darling. Shit! Shit, you know?" She was crying, then. Harry wanted to hold her. He wanted to give her a real hug and apologize for the stupid, scared one he'd given her earlier. He wanted to comfort her but knew better than to try and touch her.
"I'm glad I know, now." Ginny continued, "I'm glad I'm finding this out. You know... before we'd run off to do something stupid. I'm glad you didn't try to prove something to me or yourself or my family or the public and we were like sitting here with a baby between us. I'm glad that if you are... you know... that. You didn't have your first time with some girl and think sex was horrible. I'm glad I don't have to be your..."
Harry sighed and looked away as she tapered off. He knew she thought she was getting to a touchy subject.
"You're glad you don't have to be my mum. I know."
"I won't tell anybody, you know. That's up to you. I respect that."
He met her eyes. Was she really considering not breaking up with him? How could they not?
"You not making me pay bills here means I've got enough to get my own place. I'll tell my family it's none of their business. I'll tell the press it's none of their business. We'll still be friends." Ginny said, a sad and obviously forced smile breaking out across her face. He loved her for trying to smile for him. For understanding this was hard on him, too. "We WILL still be friends. You're right about all that love and shit. We've just... we've just got this -thing- between us. That's all."
Ginny was the one to initiate the hug. Harry was glad to have the chance to put her head on his shoulder and rub her back. He didn't whisper any apologies as they stood there. He just let the hug speak for both of them.
The week between Harry and Ginny breaking up and Ginny actually moving out wasn't awkward at all. He slept on the couch out of respect for their changed roles. She sorted through his bag of panties for the ones that fit her, leaving the rest for him to return. He never found the courage to tell her the real reason he'd purchased them. Neither of them seemed particularly happy, but the lack-of-sex that had hung heavy in the air of the two lovers had blown away from the home of the two friends.
"We could be roommates?" Harry suggested as Ginny stood at the door, her shrunken miscellany of belongings in a single, red suitcase.
"Trust me, sweetheart. We couldn't. I'd eventually rape you. I'd also beat up any bloke you brought home." Ginny said with a wicked grin, "I'm not some golddigger or famechaser, you know. You're truly going to be a hard act to follow."
Harry grinned at her. Even as the baby sister of a large family, she'd learned early in life who she was and what she wanted. She'd always been the type to kick butts and take names. He just hadn't realized until recently that she'd done it quite literally a few times. Where Harry fought back when attacked, Ginny ran into things with fists-blazing like some busty Superhero with childbearing hips.
She had always wanted someone to run along beside her and had lived in a fantasy where Harry was that someone. She'd convinced herself that he just needed a little time to catch up. Harry didn't even know who he was, yet. All he had was a slight idea but learned something new about himself each day. He was nowhere near as surefooted as Ginny. He wondered if he ever would be. What Harry wanted was what he'd never had. A guide. He needed someone to show him were to go. No puzzles and riddles. No patronizing. No hero-worship expectation that he secretly knew everything simply because he was powerful. He wanted someone that recognized his strengths but didn't ignore his faults. Though he was nicknamed the Savior of the Wizarding World, he needed a savior of his own.
Once Ginny was gone, Harry took to visiting the boutique more often. Claudia made at least one or two items everyday and received new stock on Tuesdays. The woman's fondness for him didn't wane as headlines boasted of his recent bachelor status. He knew the lady had put two and two together about why he was in her shop. Thankfully, she never asked him any questions.
She'd introduced padded bras into his life by offering him a gift, one day. She followed this up with g-strings the following week. He knew the gifts were half appreciation for him being a regular customer and half condolences for his lost relationship. Like any ex, he needed a good distraction and appreciated Claudia's silent contributions.
As his collection grew, he began using a spare bedroom as a boudoir. He and Ginny had never furnished the room and he found turning it into an oasis was a fulfilling hobby when he wasn't working. As a model, he seemed to work in isolated whirlwinds. Shoot after shoot. A mad, pre-dawn to post-midnight cramming of workdays in a single week. All of that followed by nothing. He supposed if he ever hired an agent he'd get more work, but he didn't necessarily need the work or want another person so intimately involved in his affairs.
The room was dark and masculine despite its pastel contents. He hung his garments on padded hangers and the hangers on wooden racks that he could roll around the room. They were mundane, muggle ones with wheels. Despite his power, Harry had never learned many household spells. He used his own hands and a plethora of instruction booklets to assemble padded trunks to line one of the walls. They were great for storing items he had trouble hanging and he could pass out on top of them when sleeping in his bedroom felt too lonely.
Finally, Harry admired the floor-to-ceiling, unblemished and seamless mirror in the middle of one wall. Bookended by ornate panels covered in engraved scenes of wizard history, the reflection of all the delicate garments across the room looked strange and foreign. Harry shrugged at the juxtaposition. He couldn't imagine himself in a room made for a woman. He enjoyed the feel and look of lace on his body, but he was still a man.
His final touch on the richly decadent mahogany and velvet room was something he realized should have been his first. He considered his appearance with near narcissistic reverence the first time he emerged from his racks of lace dressed in nothing but a single pair of dainty, pink knickers. They'd been the first girly thing he'd ever purchased. On a whim in some muggle department store, he'd snatched them from a display across from the cologne cabinets. He couldn't quite remember, but he might have gotten them for Ginny. The train of thought that led him into wearing them was a distant if not nonexistent memory. He just knew he'd never felt anything like it, before.
Harry squared his shoulders and pulled in his abdominal muscles, turning in front of the mirror in what he imagined was a dancer's way. Modeling had done wonders for his sense of balance and self-confidence. Yet, he still didn't think of himself as beautiful. He was shorter than all of his male friends, but didn't feel particularly petite. His arms and legs were long and reedy. His chest was full enough for him not to look emaciated but he was far from muscular. His belly was flat and undefined. His bottom, as Severus had so scathingly pointed out, was flat. He didn't even have the bubble bottom that he imagined most gay men cherished.
Thinking of Severus inspired a blush to spread down his body. Skin, evenly bronze due to the muggle tanning beds he sometimes used for clothing-catalog work, reddened in burgeoning arousal. He never tucked, so it didn't take long for his cock to grow over the waistband of his knickers, creating a moist-smear on his belly. He watched as it grew, clenching and unclenching the muscles that made him twitch. The light thump of the warm head against his stomach was erotic.
Harry tucked a thumb under his cock and pulled it completely out of his knickers. Unable to resist a few strong strokes as his fingers wrapped around his length, his hand was sticky with precome in moments. Pausing, he pulled the hard pole down as far as he could. Watching himself in the mirror, his face was pink and his bottom lip was bruised from biting. He'd taken a liking to the sensation after Severus' teeth had introduced themselves to his skin all those many weeks ago. Glasses fogging but not so much that he couldn't see himself, Harry let go of his cock and it swung back up and harshly slapped against his abdomen. His thighs quivered at the jolt of pleasure.
Knees bent slightly and back arched, he sucked his bottom lip back into mouth and gingerly pushed his cock to the side to slide it back underneath the waistband of his panties. Nestled between a hipbone and the unyielding, scratchy lace, his cock throbbed wonderfully. Harry dragged his fingernails lightly over the flowered designs, creating the rare sensations that had him so thoroughly addicted to his secret obsession.
In the mirror, he imagined Severus standing behind him, pressing a scalding erection against his lower-back. He imagined he could feel the man frotting against him, not caring if Harry liked it or not. He wondered if he could make the man desperate for contact and release. He wondered if Severus would ever fuck him senseless and leave him aching to cum as he left for work or whatever it was that Severus did to keep himself busy. He wondered when he'd started to get-off on the idea of begging Severus to fuck him. He'd never wanted to beg the arrogant fuck for anything.
He bent slightly forward, presenting himself for his imaginary Severus. In his head, Severus rubbed a hand up the back of his thigh and into the right leg-hole of his panties, pulling the lace aside, only ripping it a little to make room for him to enter Harry's ass. Harry only knew what sex was like between men in roundabout, theoretical ways. His fantasies were no place for the intricacies of preparation, his dream-Severus slid into him without resistance and held him by the waist and one leg.
As Harry bent and continued to touch himself through his knickers, the sturdier parts of the lace design began digging into the hard flesh of his cock. He gave himself a few painful squeezes and gasped with surprise as his building pleasure suddenly exploded into an orgasm. The first spurts came gushing through the lace and the rest oozed down his thigh. Shuddering, he continued to squeeze his trapped cock and looked in the mirror, again.
He was sweating and panting. He'd bitten his lip a bit too hard and there was a tiny split on the left side. He idly hoped it healed before his next photo shoot before his brain caught up with him and reminded him that he could do magic. Thinking of magic made him accio his wand for a round of cleaning spells. "Accio" was his only trick. He was no wandless-magic genius like his former Potions Master.
Before he righted himself, Harry took another look at his panties. They were a bit ruined by his rough treatment of himself. Any place the lacey patterns thinned out was either stretched or ripped. His cum made a mess of the right side and hadn't dried fast enough to keep it from dripping down the front of his leg to his knee. He'd never been the type to pay attention to the amount of cum that came out of him, but he was a bit in awe of himself. He wondered if it was more than normal, but had nothing to compare it to. Cock sufficiently softened, his panties went back to fitting like a light, second skin instead of a vice made of many pleasurably, prickly points.
A few flicks and swishes later, his body was clean and his knickers mended. Harry's glasses were defogged and his hair no longer clung to the sweat on his brow. He was free of the odor of sex and whatever stray droplets of semen had hit the floor were banished to wherever it was that banished messes went.
Though the man was a constant fixture in Harry's dreams, he hadn't seen Severus in well over two months. After being tossed onto Snape's floor, he'd dreaded running into the man at the boutique and had stopped buying new knickers for several weeks. The society events he'd been to after that day were related to Ginny's career in professional quidditch. He'd not expected Severus to be at any of those.
Then, there was his post-Ginny hope that he would run into Snape. A chance meeting at the boutique meant he didn't have to initiate anything. He didn't want it to seem like he broke up with Ginny simply to run to someone else. After all, despite the man being the star of all his sexual fantasies, Harry wasn't even sure he liked Snape.
Then, there was the fact that Ginny was right. Harry did need to grow up. Bouncing from The Dursleys to Hogwarts and then to Ginny had provided him with a ridiculously narrow world-view. Even with the goal of expanding his horizons, Harry usually sat around at home until time to work. His free time was spent taking Claudia lunch so he'd have an excuse to talk to her and standing around in ballrooms, talking to Ron and Hermione while looking for Snape.
Much to their credit, Hermione and Ron never asked why he and Ginny split. They were a bit upset that they only got to see him at parties, but also seemed to understand that Harry just needed some time away from everyone. Harry didn't necessarily want to be alone, but he definitely didn't want Ron and Hermione asking questions about the locked room on his second floor.
One particular evening, they were all at the launch party for Perry's Practical Potions Periodical, a new magazine that boasted of everyday solutions for the Potions inept. Harry worked himself into an internal frenzy, nearly jumping at every word directed his way. The gathering was a simple, cocktail party in Perry's cramped production offices. While each room was small and made maneuvering around chit-chatting guests a real challenge, the amount of rooms seemed endless.
The rooms, all separated by open archways instead of doors, didn't have hallways between them. They seemed to be set up in some kind of grid, but Harry speculated the grid shifted due to some arbitrary magical rule. Perhaps they were like the moving stairs at Hogwarts and inexplicably moved from one place to the next of their own volition.
Harry crossed threshold after threshold in search of Hermione and Ron after leaving the restroom. He was sure they'd only been three rooms away, but he'd walked through thirteen without running into either. Agitated, he vowed to just sit down in the next empty room he found. Sure, it might not have been very polite to sit at someone's desk, but it wasn't his fault their boss had decided to let a bunch of drunk people tramp through their labyrinthine workplace.
Though less-crowded rooms were abundant, Harry had trouble finding a place that wasn't at least partially occupied. Here and there, he stumbled across a snogging couple. Sometimes he found an office that was empty except for a single person asleep behind the desk, exactly where Harry wanted to be. He finally found a room that seemed to be what he was looking for, but once seated, noticed a younger wizard leaning in the corner, laughing into a muggle cellphone. Grumbling, he stomped past the wizard and over the next threshold.
"Oi! I think I just pissed off Harry Potter..." he heard the voice trailing after him as he left.
"I can't find my friends. I'm tired of this stupid party. I don't know how to get out of here. I wish I could find Snape." Harry's tirade went as he crossed the room.
Through the next threshold he found another crowded room. Perhaps he was back in the populated areas where he was most likely to find Ron and Hermione. Now that the two lived together, he expected they wouldn't be hiding behind a desk, snogging. Then again, what did Harry Virgin Potter know of passion?
Just before his self-hatred could take hold, he had all of the emotion knocked out of him by the sight of Severus Snape.
((On to Part Two))
- Richly Adorned: Part 1/7