Harry tore himself away for a moment and gazed at his lover's body with eyes of worship. "So beautiful..."

"Beautiful? You are more short-sighted than I thought, Harry Potter," scoffed Snape, pulling the boy closer again.

How would Harry be able to explain it? Yes, Snape was too skinny, too pale - even sallow -, his body marked by scars. Moreover, the Dark Mark disfigured his left arm, adding a sinister touch to his figure. All right, then the word might not be "beautiful". But "attractive" wasn't it either. Not that Snape wasn't attractive. Especially with his cock so hard and fully erect... because of him. But that was another question. Er. What a mess. Better to think about that at another time, thought Harry. When Snape wasn't... oh... licking his ear lobe. Or running his tongue down his neck, tracing his clavicle and... mouthing one of his nipples.

Harry began to emit uncontrollable sounds, making the older wizard smirk. Wanting revenge, Harry grabbed the other wizard's bottom with both hands, and squeezed. Snape moaned and nearly, nearly plunged his teeth in his neck. That was a close shave. Then Snape devoted his attention to the other nipple, and Harry contorted himself, teetering at the edge of madness. "I won't last much longer," he warned his lover.

"Such impatience. Someone should give you a lesson on forbearance."

"You mean torture."

Snape looked around for his wand, with an expression of impatience. Then he sighed and summoned it.

"Hey, what are you doing?" protested Harry.

Snape lay at Harry's side, held him and rolled over, pulling him on top. Before Harry's astonished eyes, Severus put his legs around Harry's waist and chanted the lubricant spell. Next he encircled Harry's cock firmly and guided it to his tight entrance. He positioned Harry's cock with one hand and, with the other, he embraced the other wizard, pulling him towards his body.

"Go on, Potter."

"But I..."

"You don't want to do it that way?"

"It's not that! It's just that I've thought..."

"That I would have to be the top? This is sheer stupidity. Now do something, will you? Weren't you in a hurry?"

"I've never..."

"There's a first time for everything."

An image came to Harry's mind. "I will try to do as you did to me... in the fantasy. Without the chains and the shackles, I mean."

An intense gleam emerged in the depths of the black eyes. Then Harry lowered his eyes and gave the first thrust. It was almost impossible to bear, the sensation... He gave a deep breath, hoping to calm his racing pulse. But his heart kept on pounding faster and faster, and he needed to move. So he withdrew a little just to get the force to penetrate deeper. The sensation of wet heat closing around his cock was driving him crazy. When he could lift his face and look at Snape, the unreality of everything seemed to engulf him. He remained breathless and motionless for some time, with his eyes riveted upon his lover. Snape's chest, naked, panting, spread beneath him; his untamed black hair falling partially over the high and ghostly pale forehead; his eyes closed, and an expression of... complete abandon in his face. What a rapturous sight! A rush of emotions assaulted Harry: pride, passion, courage. Oh, Merlin, Severus was indeed very beautiful. And he was all his.

Harry withdrew and thrust once more, and felt Snape matching his thrusts. As he established a rhythm, his breath was getting heavier and heavier, and Snape's expression revealed a desire that was more and more intense. The boy bit his lip not to moan out loud.

"There's no need to restrain yourself. You may scream, if you want. I've sealed my quarters and cast a Silencing Charm. Nobody will listen," taunted Snape.

In the next thrust, Harry penetrated deeper, and moaned really louder. He was totally inside Snape. He closed his eyes for a brief instant. When he reopened them, he moaned once again seeing his lover staring into him, completely mesmerised, with eyes full of desire. Snape grabbed Harry's hips firmly and changed the angle slightly, guiding him to the right point. Hearing his lover's moans of pleasure, Harry set a harder rhythm, wanting to see him shudder, clench his nails on the sofa cover, moan still louder. Wanting to penetrate him to the core, till they became one. And as he watched his fantasy come true, when he was on the verge of losing contact with reality, he felt Snape's hand grasping his and guiding it to his cock, showing him how he wanted to be touched, the exact pressure, the rhythm. Fascinated by this new task and entirely focused on it, Harry was able to hold his climax until he saw Snape's body contract and pulsate, surrendering to pleasure. Then Harry snatched his wand, which he had deliberately left on the ground, near the sofa and, casting a spell, tore Snape's chest open. Harry plunged in the flowing blood, sucking as much as he could, and let himself be pulled inexorably into the vortex.

He fell on the sofa next to Snape, and pronounced a spell to close the cut on his lover's body and a cleaning spell. Then he tried to snuggle up to him. But Snape withdrew harshly, and got up.

"Get out of here."

Harry blinked, not believing what he was hearing, and sat on the sofa, while Snape put his clothes on. "What..."

"Get out!"

"Why are you doing this? What have I done?"

Snape finished dressing himself and crossed his arms in front of his chest, not saying a word. His expression seemed to epitomise hatred in its purest form.

"Do you think... do you think that I've used you?" asked Harry, bewildered.

Snape merely glared at him.

"Severus..."

It was the first time that the boy pronounced his name. Snape shuddered and turned his back on him.

"Severus, please! We've just made love. And there's a possibility that... you know... from now on, we can be together for all eternity!"

"Love? Eternity? You are utterly insane, Potter. What has happened here is called sex, and perfidy. And if you were transformed by your stupid act, this is your problem. In half an hour, the changes will begin, and I will not lift a finger to help you. You will be in hell, Harry Potter. And I don't give a damn, do you understand? I don't give a damn. Now go away!"

Slowly, with clouded eyes, Harry put his clothes on. Without saying a word, he left the teacher's office.

He didn't know where to go. The castle's sombre halls reflected his soul's darkness. He began to climb the stairs slowly, with leaden legs. He had to hide from everybody. Maybe in a few minutes the transformation would begin. And he didn't know what would happen. Finally, he had the idea to take refuge in the Room of Requirement, and he climbed to the seventh floor.

This time the Room of Requirement had white padded walls and was completely void. It was like a Muggle insane asylum cell. Yes, maybe that was precisely what he needed to avoid trying to kill himself.

To kill himself? But that was exactly the problem! He would never be able to get the release that only death could bring. Never more.

He sat at one of the Room's corners, on the stone floor. The certainty that the transformation would occur overcame him. His blood seemed to sparkle, to boil in his veins. He had chosen eternity thinking to bond his soul with another forever. He had attained immortality, but instead of the awaited union, he had found only rejection.

He felt his throat tighten. Eternal rejection. Was there a worse torment than that? How could he have been so mad! He would give anything to get back and recover his mortality! He couldn't stand it!

He folded his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Lowering his head, he rested it on his knees. So that was the way it would be. That was the beginning of his eternal torment.