Disclaimer: Not mine. All JK Rowling's. I just have fun with them. :)

Summary: Severus tries to reason something out logically. He fails, as expected.

 

Fool Me

You�re a dirty needle

You�re in my blood and there�s no curing me

And I want to run, like the blood from a wound

To a place you can�t see me

�Cause love, like a blow to the head

Has left me stunned and I�m reeling

Yeah, I�m reeling, and if you go

Furious angels will bring you back to me

� �Furious Angels" Rob Dougan

He seems completely innocent when he�s asleep, as if nothing in life has ever touched him. Innocent, pure. Firelight glides over him, bathing his skin in a warm glow, almost like a halo. At night, he seems an entirely different person. When darkness falls, the situations and events that shaped our lives hardly seem to matter.

He�s not innocent, of course, not if the sex we�ve just had is any judge. It�s been almost seven months and I still don�t know what makes him come back to my bed, of all places. He�s twenty-six and could have anyone he even glanced at. After all, who�d turn down the chance to introduce the once Boy Who Lived to their parents?

Instead, he keeps coming back to me.

I shiver, grateful for the fire even if it�s starting to die down. Contrary to popular belief, I don�t relish the prospect of freezing to death. Baiting Death once too many has given me the wisdom to keep well away for the foreseeable future. Even Potter has discovered this wisdom, at least for the time being.

I fully expect a pig to fly by my window anytime soon.

He sighs, stirring in his sleep. I don�t pay much attention; the nightmares stopped over two years ago. But I immediately regret my unconcern moments later as he curls up closer to me, his face nestled against my shoulder and an arm draped across my waist.

Trapped.

I stare down at him, and my eyes flicker over the faded scar on his forehead. Slowly, I extend my shaking hand, but when my fingers are almost brushing the skin I snatch them away, furious with myself. Don�t get attached!

Sometimes, I look at this boy-man and am convinced that I could learn to love him, even spend a large amount of my remaining life with him. Then reality comes crashing back in, and I conclude this probably won�t last to next week.

Except... it�s almost been seven months. And he has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Even worse, I�m beginning to get used to having him around. Even anticipate the time he spends with me.

Merlin, help me. If you can spare the time, that is, you buggering bastard.

Where has my sense gone? Where have my morals, for that matter? Potter�s over twenty years younger than me, my ex-student, now my colleague, of all things! This can�t work, it can�t.

But... but...

He stirs again, but this time emerald eyes blink open and stare blearily up at me. Then he slowly smiles and leans up to kiss me. �Hey. Can�t sleep?�

�I hardly think that it�s any of your concern,� I snap at him, already beginning to feel myself tense. It�s always like this, every time, and later I�ll berate myself for not thinking
again. It�s like I temporarily lose my sense and my sanity all at once, choosing to lash out for no reason apart from my own insecurity.

He hardly seems to realise I�m in a foul mood; he beams. Merlin, it�s as if he�s accepted this as part of me.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

��Course it�s my concern. Didn�t I tire you out?� he asks instead, raising an eyebrow.

I grit my teeth, struggling not to do something I�ll most definitely regret later. He�s twenty-six; all he can think about is sex. Amazes me how he can teach at all, but the students love him, idiots they are.

I sneer. �Rather confident on your ability, aren�t we?� I ignore the part of me that�s demanding - no, SHOUTING - to know what the hell am I doing? What the hell do I think I�m achieving with this?

I calmly tell it to fuck off. I can do this on my own, without any common sense.

He stares at me with those damn eyes of his, something that could have been hurt flickering in them. I inwardly curse him. Foolish boy. He seems to think that this - thing we have means I�ve suddenly become nicer, softer, as if sex can change my personality completely. He couldn�t be further from the truth: I am who I am, what I am. It�s too late for me to change.

He frowns, a line creasing between his eyebrows. �Why do you always act like this? That this... whatever we have... doesn�t matter, that it�s a casual fling?� He seems genuinely confused, poor boy.

�Because that�s all it is,� I tell him calmly, �a casual fling.� I yank at the covers - blast it, why does he always hog them? - suddenly feeling tired. Took me long enough.

He sighs. �Severus -�

�Don�t call me that!� I snarl, glaring at him.

�I think I can!� he snaps back. �I�ve been sleeping with you for nearly seven months, after all!�

�Sex doesn�t imply intimacy,� I hiss at him, feeling the sweet caress of rage inside me.

�It does to me,� he whispers back, his face scant inches from mine. Close enough to kiss.

�And that�s why you�re twenty-six and confident of your ability,� I murmur softly, well aware that I�ve thrown the barb with frightening efficiency.

He jerks back like he�s been slapped, his eyes wide with shock. No one can ever say I don�t know how to insult someone to the point of tears. �You�re a bastard.�

�Agreed,� I snarl. �Now get out.�

�No.�

His firm answer actually shocks me, as I stare at him, taken aback. �Wha��

He�s on me in a second, lips crushing mine, straddling my waist with long familiarity, hands pinning my arms to the bed. �No,� he hisses between kisses, glaring, �no, no. NO! I�m not leaving!�

�Damn you, you�� I shout, rage rising in me again, but he grabs my jaw with one hand and stuns me into silence once more.

�Casual flings do not last seven months,� he tells me quietly, his voice never rising. �Casual flings don�t consist of you helping me plan my classes and me helping you with your potions, and you know it. If this was a casual fling, both of us would have been satisfied months ago.�

I try and glare at him, but can�t find the energy. �If you say so. Now please get off me. I would like to get some sleep before morning comes.�

He laughs, before kissing me, deeper this time and with much more meaning than the previous times. I�ve my mouth open before I realise it, moaning as he swirls his tongue. It�s over before I�ve realised it and I�m left gasping as he settles beside me, tidying the blankets as he lies down, that damn arm around my waist again.

�See?� he tells me smugly. �If this was a casual fling, you still wouldn�t be acting like that seven months later.� And to all appearances, he then falls asleep.

I�m left staring up at the ceiling, hardly able to contain my panic.

This should never have happened in the first place. I should have known better than to let him kiss me the first time, should have known far better than to return it. But I didn�t, and things went on from there, and I�ve just realised I can�t stop them.

My head is practically bellowing at me to end this, somehow, before it all spirals out of control, but I can�t ignore the nasty feeling that it already has. And my heart...

Well, my heart stopped trying to tell me anything long ago.

Fool me thrice, shame on us both.

A sudden thought occurs to me, and it�s a struggle not to let hysterical laughter bubble up my throat. My parents are long dead, and they wouldn�t have approved of my... desire for men. Merlin, my father would have most likely disowned me. I hardly think they would have survived it if I�d introduced Harry Potter to them.

But, after all, who would turn down the chance to have Harry Potter choose them?