Gift by seeker

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"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSACRIFICE!"

The shriek was hideous. Harry Potter barely had time to recover from the final curse that sent Voldemort's cursed soul back to hell where it belonged when the Dark Lord's familiar, Nagini, drew him back to the battle. It coiled, yards long, thicker around than a man's waist, hovering in the air above Severus Snape, poised to crush the life from him.

"Well, hell," Harry muttered, and threw himself between the giant snake and his reluctant savior. For Snape was, indeed, his savior. If the undercover Death Eater hadn't stepped in and taken the Cruciatus aimed at Harry, then Voldemort would have escaped. Snape, still shaken from the curse, was in no shape to fight off a huge, pissed off, bereaved snake. "SSSSSTOP!" he hissed in parseltongue, waving his arms and doing his best to draw the snake's attention from the nearly-unconscious Potions Master sprawled against the wall between Harry and Nagini.

"You killed my massster! Prepare to be ssslain!" Nagini hissed in return.

Shaking thoughts of cute swordsmen in Muggle movies out of his brain, Harry hissed back, "You really ssshould thank me, you know."

Enraged red eyes glared at him, unconvinced.

"You're free now! How long has that ssslimy ssson of a bitch held you captive?"

Looking somewhat less apt to strike and destroy them at any moment, Nagini stared down at Harry and thought about it. "Sssince I wasss an egg," he finally hissed.

"Sssee?" Harry asked quietly. "You've never know what it'sss like to jussst be yourssself. Taking ordersss from no one. Living in the world asss isss your right, like any free creature. Voldemort wasssn't your life, he wasss your cage."

Nagini uncoiled a few feet and lowered his head to the point where he could flicker his tongue over Harry's cheek. It felt like eyelashes fluttering against his skin.

"I can tassste truth, but I am confusssed. Without my massster, what am I to do? He cared for me! Raisssed me! Loved me!"

"He USSSED you! Imprisssoned you! Kept you from your dessstiny!"

If Nagini had a brow to raise, he would have at the last statement. "Dessstiny? I'm a sssnake. What sssort of dessstiny can I have?"

"Everyone hasss sssome sssort of dessstiny. There'sss got to be more to life than torturing people," Harry pointed out. "While you were enssslaved by Voldemort, you had no way of finding out where your true dessstiny might lie. Life isss an adventure! At leassst, that'sss what I keep telling myssself."

By now, both combatants had calmed to the point where Harry was sitting cross-legged in front of Snape, who was coming round slowly, leaning against Harry's back as if he wasn't quite sure where he was at. Nagini had collapsed into a huge pile of glistening coils, his head level with Harry's, staring him in the eye and occasionally flicking his tongue out to taste him. Neither seemed to mind the cozy quarters, nor the stench of recent death all round them. Both were too intent on their conversation.

"What do you mean? What'sss your dessstiny?" Nagini asked, curiosity clear in his hiss.

"Well, my entire life hasss been defined by Voldemort. Firssst asss the Boy Who Lived, now asss the Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord. But I know there'sss more for me out there. Or I might asss well give up and die, and I'm not ready to die jussst yet. I haven't had a chance to live yet! Thanksss to Voldemort, my whole life hasss been about death. I'm ready to find out what elssse isss out there. Ssso can you! That'sss what I mean about you being free at lassst."

Nagini's head swayed back and forth as he thought about it. "I sssuppossse I could go to India. I've never been there, but my family'sss from thossse partsss."

"I've ssseen picturesss of India. It'sss gorgeousss. Maybe you can find sssome cousssinsss. Meet othersss like yourssself." Unaware of his actions, Harry tossed a glance over his shoulder, automatically checking to see if Snape was all right as the older man stirred against him. "Perhapsss find sssomeone to love," he finished quietly.

"Perhapsss," Nagini trailed off as he watched the young man who spoke so convincingly stare back at the body behind him. It was a weighty stare, one which spoke volumes of the similarities between Harry and the snake, if only Harry had been paying attention. As it was, by the time he turned back to look at Nagini, the look was gone, replaced by an opaque glitter in the round red eyes.

"There'sss no more need for death," Harry hissed quietly. "Beyond food, of courssse."

"Ssspeaking of which," Nagini swayed higher, then turned with incredible speed and grace and gulped down the body of a Death Eater who looked like an older, even uglier edition of Goyle.

Harry swallowed, trying not to lose his lunch.

"Perhaps it's time we departed," Snape whispered in his ear, causing Harry to jump. Nagini didn't appear to notice, distracted as he was with gulping down the still-warm corpses scattered throughout the catacomb.

Nodding, calling out a soft, "Good luck, Nagini!" in parseltongue as he backed out, they left the snake to his feast.

"To you asss well, Harry Potter!" Nagini hissed back, undulating around the already-rotting corpse of his former master to get at the fresher meat from the dead Death Eaters heaped about him. "Perhapsss ... I will give you a gift ... in thanksss ..." he hissed so softly none but the shadows heard.

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The days following the final battles were tedious and tiresome. Snape was checked out by Pomfrey and let go after a lecture on resting up that he completely ignored. He knew more of his limits and strengths than any mediwitch, regardless of her abilities, could ever know. Determined to do what had to be done, he busied himself with helping to round up the last few pockets of Death Eaters, endless rounds of testifying before Ministry tribunals, and evenings hiding in his dungeon.

His nights were filled with dreams. Nightmares, to begin with, nothing new there, but they mutated into something different since Voldemort's death and the disappearance of the Dark Mark on his arm.

Now his dreams, while they began in blood, transformed into shadows filled with hissing conversation, none of which he understood but which somehow comforted him all the same. Harry Potter's sturdy form blocked any harm from coming to him, and the heat the man radiated pulled at Snape like a sun-warmed rock called to a sluggish snake.

In his dream his arms would extend, wrap around that strong waist; his face would burrow between shoulder blades beneath the torn wool robe; he would collapse against the strength in that steady body and allow Harry to carry the burden of his exhaustion for a little while.

For in his dream, it was Harry, and only Harry, never Potter. The hissing would intensify, coils as high as his shoulder winding around them, pulling them together, until there wasn't the space for a breath between them. Only warmth, and open mouths, and enclosing arms, and safety.

He'd wake from his dreams shaking, for once, not with terror but with release. Stare at the semen-soaked sheets and wonder when he'd reverted to an adolescence he'd never actually experienced, since he'd often believed he'd been born old.

Thanked any god who might be listening for years as a double agent and a professor, which had given him an outstanding ability to hide his emotions from others.

Particularly Harry.

One night, a week or so after the climactic battle, he heard a rustling at the edge of sleep. Believing it to be his dream-state, familiar as it had become by then, he didn't realize it was real until it was too late.

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"Harry Potter!"

The low, hissing cry woke Harry from a light, restless sleep, the only kind he'd been getting since he'd killed Voldemort. He was nervous and jumpy, odd, really, given that the threat he'd lived under his entire life was destroyed. But his subconscious had been telling him for days that something was coming.

And there it was. Hissing outside the window of Hagrid's hut, loaned to him as a refuge when the noise at Hogwarts became too much. Hagrid was off visiting Sirius and the Hippogrif, so Harry had the place to himself.

Well, himself, and the huge snake grinning at him through the window.

"Nagini?" he hissed, shocked.

"Come out, I have a presssent for you!"

Harry rolled out of bed, not bothering in his haste to put anything on over the loose sweat pants he wore. Slamming out the door, he pulled to an abrupt halt at the sight that met his eyes.

Nagini, swaying, flicking his tongue happily ... with Snape, in an emerald green sleeping robe rucked up to his waist, held fast in one gigantic coil.

"Uhm ..." Harry had no idea what to say. "Presssent?"

"Goddamnit, Potter, stop hissing at the beast and get me free!" Snape yelped.

Harry ignored him for the moment to concentrate on Nagini, who looked quite pleased with himself.

"Thank you presssent," Nagini hissed back happily. "Before I head off to India to ssseek my dessstiny, thought I'd bring you a gift to sssay thank you for helping me sssee thingsss in a new light."

Without thinking, Harry replied, "You know if you let him go he'll jussst run away."

"Ssssssss," Nagini hissed, and Harry blinked, unable to translate it until his brain supplied, "Snake equivalent of Hmmmm."

"Sssecond option," Nagini then said, and swept Harry up with the end of his long body, rolling Harry down the length of his shining skin until he landed with a thump up against Snape. Before either man could make another move, Nagini coiled himself around them both, from ankles to necks. "Inccccendiary!" Nagini crowed, then began to sway.

Indeed, it was, quite incendiary. Snape was nude beneath his night robe, and the rough ride down the snake's coils had loosened the drawstring on Harry's trousers, so there was rather a lot of naked skin rubbing against more naked skin in a very interesting way.

"Oh, god," moaned Harry.

"Bloody hell," moaned Snape.

"Very interesssting!" approved Nagini.

Without the ability to use one's hands, sexual congress might be considered rather difficult. However, under unusual circumstances, such as swaying up and down wrapped in a giant snake coil whilst starkers, fucking was easier than one might think. Snape wriggled as if to get away, Harry wriggled as if to get closer. Snape ended up back-end to Harry, and Harry ended up rubbing his healthy erection up and down Snape's back-end.

Not quite satisfactory, but healthily arousing, nonetheless.

"Sssodding ssson of a bitch!" Harry yelled in parseltongue as Snape wriggled one time too many, and the head of his prick caught against the edge of Snape's arse hole.

"Fuck!" screeched Snape.

"Well, all right then," Harry answered in human tongue, and snapped his hips as far down and in as he could get them. At which point much more than the tip of his prick slid in, and Snape's screech slid up an octave and lost any resemblance to actual words.

"Sssidewaysss, then?" Nagini asked, finding Harry's reaction to his gift quite fascinating. Not giving Harry a chance to respond, he began to sway in the same direction Harry was now thrusting.

"Holy ..." Harry choked, as the sudden change in direction slammed him balls-deep in Snape's arse.

Snape was too busy hyperventilating to provide comment.

"Fassster," Harry called out, and Nagini obliged. Snape was panting like a racehorse now, thrusting back against Harry as hard as he could given the close quarters, muttering something that could be encouragement or hexes under his breath. It was impossible to tell.

Then a bony hand fought its way between them, wrapped itself around Harry's wrist and pulled it back the way it came. Once there, it shoved Harry's hand around a thick, hot prick and the muttering cleared up enough for Harry to hear Snape demand, "Do something -- ah, fuck, yes -- with this -- oh, god, hard, so hard, deeper! -- Harry!"

Translating Snape-in-passion was worse than trying to translate Nagini-deep-in-thought, but the urgent push of wet prick-head and the slide of foreskin beneath his palm made all quite clear to Harry. Finally relaxing against Snape's back, except for the pistoning movements of his hips as he ploughed into him, Harry wrapped his hand around Snape's prick and jacked for all he was worth.

"Yes!" screamed Snape as he came.

"Oh, god, good, ssso good" Harry hissed, in a garbled mix of parsel and human tongue as he rode out Snape's climax. It was altogether too much, with Snape's arse squeezing his prick like that and Nagini squeezing everything else, and in moments he came as well, muffling his scream against the back of Snape's neck.

Nagini didn't say anything. He just kept swaying, until his friend Harry Potter and Harry's Gift were quite limp, then slowly uncoiled and gently laid them on the grass. Slithering far enough away that he could bend down to flicker his tongue over the two of them without crushing them with his weight, he smelled satiation, satisfaction, and sheer unadulterated shock on their sweaty bodies.

Good enough to eat, but then, Harry Potter was his friend. Besides, he'd quite filled up on Death Eaters.

"Thanksss, Harry Potter," Nagini hissed softly.

Harry pried one dazed green eye open and stared wildly up at Nagini. "M' pleasssure," he slurred. "Sssafe journey home!"

Several minutes later the last of the rustling faded as Nagini finally slithered off into the distance, on his way to his homeland at long last. Harry shoved himself up onto one elbow and looked down at the shredded, soaked sweat pants puddled around his ankles. Then he glanced over at the equally shredded, soaked night robe falling off Snape's shoulders and leaving the rest of his body quite bare.

He looked good, sprawled against the grass like that.

Before his higher brain functions, which had pretty well shorted out already, could kick in and cry warning, Harry rolled over on top of Snape and kissed him. Soundly.

Snape not only let him, he kissed him back.

Once they finally broke for air, both were roused again, and both had equally wild expressions. Harry tossed a leg over Snape's hips and raised himself up, preparatory to commence some frottage. Before he could begin, Snape's hands lashed out, clamped on his buttocks, lifted them apart and slammed Harry down onto his prick.

Excited, vaguely pained screams ripped from both of them.

Harry was moving before either quite got their breath back, looking down into Snape's wide dark eyes, grinning like a madman as he rode him. Snape looked rather mad himself, cheeks flushed, hair wild, mouth open, gasping for breath.

The second orgasm hit Harry before it hit Snape, and he writhed on his perch, head thrown back, howling as he shot his load all over Snape's stomach and chest. Snape's hands clamped on his hips and held him steady as he rolled them both until Harry was flat on his back in the grass, Snape still buried inside him.

It was a short hard ride after that. Harry was wiped out, almost floating above the action as Snape jolted against and into him, finally dropping his head and arching his back as he came. Harry felt each individual pulse as Snape shot, and the pure heat of it made him lose his breath.

Once he'd given all he had, the strength seemed to drain out of Snape, and he collapsed against Harry's chest. Catching him easily, pulling him down to lay comfortably atop him, Harry nuzzled Snape's throat and waited for the usual razor sharp wit to return and cut him to shreds.

And waited.

And waited.

Eventually, they were both breathing evenly, and Snape still hadn't said a word. Harry pried his face away from its hiding place against Snape's warm skin and asked, hesitantly, "You okay?"

"If you define 'okay' as abducted from my bed by an overgrown snake, hauled across the school grounds in my nightgown then fucked brainless by you, then yes, I suppose I would qualify as 'okay'," Snape immediately replied.

There was another moment of silence.

A very long one.

Finally, Harry asked much less hesitantly, "Want to do it again?"

"Yes," Snape answered, again without a pause.

"Right." Harry blinked, wondering what to say next. Snape saved him the trouble.

"Do I want to know what the snake said?"

"No," Harry said quickly, not wanting to know how Snape would react to being a good-bye present from Voldemort's ex-familiar.

"Do I trust you?" The question was incredibly dry.

"Yes?" Harry tried. The only answer he got was a snort. He found it rather endearing. Proving that he had, indeed, lost his mind.

Much later, when it was as sorted out as it was ever going to be, and they'd had sex in every room in Hagrid's hut, most of the cells in the dungeon and Harry's room in Gryffindor Tower, Harry made a note to ask Hermione where giant snakes might congregate in India.

He had a thank-you note to write.

END