A bit over a year ago, I met bk7brokemybrain online. She has since become a dear friend and invaluable writing buddy.

bk7brokemybrain, I know your top choice on my OTP poll was Snupin, but I'm intimidated to write Remus for you, so I hope you'll be happy with a bit of Snarry.

Happy birthday, love!! I hope your day is wonderful!

Author: asnowyowl
Title: Pygmy Puff
Pairing: Harry/Severus
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: Not well disguised public foreplay
Summary: When Harry overhears Snape saying what he truly thinks of him, he takes matters into his own hands.
Notes: AU in that the war has dragged on until Harry is twenty and several characters who are dead in canon are still alive.
Word count: 3,883
Beta: The lovely hh_katie. Thanks so much, hun!




Pygmy Puff

Harry slammed the door as he burst into Ron's bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione quickly pulled apart, but Harry didn't really care if he had interrupted something. As long as they were both still dressed, he'd ignore the disgruntled looks Ron was shooting him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione moved a little further away from Ron, straightening her skirt. "I thought you were going to spend some time with Dumbledore and Snape."

Harry kicked some of Ron's dirty laundry across the floor. "I am so sick of this! Who'd have thought I'd still be fighting Voldemort when I'm twenty? When the hell do I get a life of my own?"

"When Voldemort's dead, I suppose," Ron said. "Maybe we can all get lives then instead of keeping holed up here."

Harry waved toward Ron and Hermione. "Well at least you two have each other. What do I have? Nothing, that's what."

"Tell us what's wrong, Harry," Hermione said.

"He called me a Pygmy Puff!" Harry blurted.

Ron snorted, but then covered his mouth to quell the laughter.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Snape! I was just about to go in the library, but I heard Dumbledore and Snape talking, so I stopped and listened at the door."

"An eavesdropper never hears anything good about himself," Ron said. The older he got, the more he seemed to spout off Molly-cisms.

Harry and Hermione both stared at him for a moment before Harry shook his head and turned back to Hermione. "I'm not sure what they were talking about, but Dumbledore said, 'So how would you classify young Harry?' and Snape said, 'Pygmy Puff. The ultimate Pygmy Puff.' And then Dumbledore said, 'Oh ho,' and laughed! Can you believe that?"

"Well…" Hermione began.

But Harry wasn't in the mood to hear how stupid he was to have a crush on Snape. He wasn't going to let Hermione list the one-hundred-and-one reasons why a relationship between Harry Potter and Severus Snape wouldn't be prudent. "I mean, really, a Pygmy Puff! What? Does he think I'm some fluffy little thing he can drop into his pocket and keep as a pet? Useless. Soft and useless. That's all Pygmy Puffs are."

Since there was no place other than the bed to sit down, Harry dropped to the floor. He leaned his back against the door, buried his face in his hands, and listened to the footsteps crossing the room, too soft and sure to be Ron's. He lifted his head just as Hermione settled on the floor beside him.

"Being called a Pygmy Puff isn't necessarily a bad thing."

Harry snorted.

"No, really. I've been doing a bit of research into gay wizarding culture. A Pygmy Puff is someone who, while perhaps small in stature, is considered good-looking and nice enough that people want to take care of him. See, Snape calling you a Pygmy Puff shows that he has tender feelings for you."

Harry felt a glimmer of hope, but still… "No one could possibly take someone seriously if they call them a Pygmy Puff. And come on, really, can you imagine Snape wanting something soft and cuddly?" Harry suddenly felt a bit claustrophobic with Hermione sitting so close. He got up and walked to the window, staring out into darkness.

"Actually, I can see where he'd want just that — a little brightness in an otherwise dark life. But it really has nothing to do with strength, or capabilities, or intelligence, Harry."

"So gay wizards really use that term?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Harry turned to look at Ron. "What do you think?"

"Well, the way Hermione explained it, I guess I'd say she's my Pygmy Puff. And you both know I don't mean that in a bad way."

Harry nodded. He sat on the windowsill and looked toward Hermione. "So, do you really think Snape might be interested in me? I mean, I don’t want to get my hopes up because the minute I think something good will happen, my life generally goes to shit."

"Well, I didn't want to say anything before, but I have noticed him watching you. And not in that I wonder what devilry Potter is up to now? way he used to look at you in school."

Ron nodded. "I think he fancies you, Harry."

"So now what do I do?"

"Tell him you wanna fuck. Easy as that."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione pushed off the floor and went to stand in front of Ron, hands on her hips. "Not all men are looking for a quick shag." She turned to Harry. "Isn't that right?"

Well, in truth Harry would love a quick shag… followed by a slow leisurely shag. He shrugged.

When it appeared Hermione wasn't going to leave the subject alone (at least she was targeting Ron with her tirade), Harry got up and crept toward the door.

"Just because Weasley men think with their penises doesn't mean all men do."

When Hermione turned away from Ron a bit, Harry froze, halfway across the room. But she was on a roll, and had little attention to spare for Harry. If Ron was smart, he'd keep his mouth shut.

"What do you mean 'Weasley men?' You make us sound like a bunch of pigs."

If Harry hadn't been afraid of Hermione turning on him, he would've groaned on Ron's behalf. Would the man never learn?

"I didn't say you were pigs, just completely oversexed."

Harry was almost to the door, his arm outstretched, hand reaching for the handle.

"Ronald, I've been hit on by every one of your brothers. Every one!"

The door only creaked a bit when it swung open. Harry cast a glance over his shoulder at his best friends — sometimes he wondered if bickering was the way they handled the stress of a protracted war, or if they'd be like this even if the world were at peace. He rather thought the latter.

As he closed the door behind him, Harry heard Ron choke out the question, "Percy?"

…~*~…~*~…~*~…

Harry didn't see Snape the next day, which he supposed was a good thing. Snape was a distraction. It was hard enough for Harry to keep his mind on the task at hand without Snape being in the same room, or even the same house.

Merlin, when he was eleven-years-old and first heard about Voldemort, Harry would have never thought he'd still be fighting the monster when he was twenty. The war had dragged on too long and Harry was so tired. He needed a break. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He could only stare at the old books, searching for spells that might end Voldemort, for so long before he'd go spare.

The only problem with stopping his research was that he would inevitably start daydreaming about Snape again. And that was just plain unproductive. After finding himself imagining Snape's body pressed against his, Harry made a decision. For better or worse, he was going to make a move. Either Snape would reject him and then Harry could throw himself back into his work, or he'd shag him and Harry would be so damned satisfied, he'd be clear headed enough for his research.


…~*~…~*~…~*~…

Harry walked into the large room the Order used for meetings. He thought it might have once been a small ballroom, but he couldn't be sure. From the old journals he'd read, he supposed the Black family were as likely to have used the room for orgies as balls.

As was usual, there was an empty seat at the large table next to where Snape sat. Even though the man hadn't been a double agent in more than three years, and had proved his worth to the Order countless times, people still cut him a wide berth. Harry supposed being on the side of good didn't automatically make one charismatic.

Harry usually sat next to Snape, so it was no surprise to anyone when he took that chair. It had started out that Harry had sat next to him because he felt a bit bad for the man. But then Harry had noticed how nice Snape always smelled: like he used some sort of exotic musk as a cologne, how long and well shaped his hands were, how he only spoke at meetings when he had something relevant to say (unlike others who prattled on for minutes on end, saying nothing), and how he sometimes (when he'd gotten used to Harry's presence next to him) would lean over and whisper scathing comments about those who did do the prattling.

It had taken a surprisingly short time for Harry to fall in love.

Harry's heart stuttered in his chest as the meeting started. It was now or never. Dumbledore was talking about new tactics in Death Eater recruitment when Harry slid his foot over to rest against Snape's.

Snape moved his foot away.

Harry moved further, his leg stretching into an odd angle, until he felt Snape's boot again.

Snape's leg stayed stationary this time.

As Dumbledore finished speaking, and Arthur Weasley cleared his throat, Harry hooked his foot around Snape's ankle, having to almost slouch in his chair to achieve the needed distance.

Snape moved his leg closer to Harry, allowing Harry to straighten a bit. Snape remained silent, though, just giving Harry a quick, questioning look.

When Arthur had been talking for at least ten minutes about who at the Ministry might still be on the Order's side, Harry got brave once more. He let his left hand fall to his lap, and then, once it was out of sight from the rest of the table's occupants, reached over and rested it on Snape's thigh.

Snape's muscles quivered under Harry's touch. He looked over and raised an eyebrow.

Harry winked.

Arthur finished speaking and Tonks stood to give the Auror report. But since Kingsley's death, most of the Aurors had either quit the Ministry or given their allegiance to the Dark Lord, so her speech was short.

Long enough, however for Harry to start rubbing circles on Snape's thigh, beginning to know the feel of Snape's muscles under his hand, finding, even in this small area, a sensitive spot that caused Snape to inhale just a little rougher when it was caressed.

Snape leaned toward Harry and whispered, "Is this some sort of game, Potter?"

"No."

"Then why are you touching me?"

"I want to. And I hope you want me to."

Snape looked at him for a heartbeat or two, then nodded slightly and turned toward the next speaker: Bill Weasley with his goblin report.

Harry wasn't sure what to do now. He'd made his intentions known, how much further should he go without reciprocation?

He didn't have to ponder long however, because Snape shifted a little toward him and Harry felt a hand caress his lower back. As Bill droned on about Goblins whose names all sounded like someone retching, Snape's fingers kneaded at Harry's back, more demanding then sensual. Finally, three fingers dipped down into the waistband of Harry's jeans.

Harry wriggled his arse a little to show his approval.

Snape leaned toward him again. "How adventurous are you, Potter?"

"I'm up for anything." Would a Pygmy Puff answer like that? Harry didn't think so.

"Really? Will you undo your button and zip so I can get in further? Will you sit at this table almost exposed while I do as I like? I doubt even you are that adventurous."

Harry was lost in the thought of what Snape was suggesting, but a swift kick to his right leg startled him out of his thoughts. He looked to the seat on his right where Ron was glaring at him. "What?"

Ron nodded his head toward the rest of the table.

Everyone was looking at Snape and him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

Severus pulled his hand away and straightened.

Dumbledore looked from Severus to Harry. "If you two have something you'd like to share — a new war strategy, perhaps — we'd all like to hear it instead of trying to carry on this meeting over your whispers."

"Sorry, Headmaster, no," Severus said. "The plans Potter and I were discussing are only just in their infancy and not quite ready to be carried out. We will refrain from more distractions."

"Very good." Dumbledore winked at Harry before saying, "Remus, I believe you have a report on werewolf movements."

Remus began talking. Harry knew he'd have to be quick, as Remus was known for short updates. Using the sound of Remus's voice to mask any noise, Harry popped the button of his jeans and slid the zip down.

Perhaps Remus's tone wasn't loud enough to cover Harry's noises after all, since Ron stabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.

When Harry looked up, Ron looked pointedly toward Harry's groin and then up to Harry's eyes.

Harry shook his head. But then sat there, feeling stupid, when Snape made no new move. Finally, Harry put his hand back on Snape's thigh.

Snape smirked and Harry felt the hand on his back again. This time there was no massaging of skin, instead Snape tugged Harry's jeans back to allow him room, and plunged his hand down both boxers and denims, skimming along the top of Harry's crack.

It was all Harry could do not to moan. This was all turning out far better than he could have hoped.

Snape spent a few moments caressing Harry's cheeks and delving a long finger as far down Harry's crease as the position allowed. He leaned toward Harry, but then seemed to think better of it and straightened back up. He opened the notebook he carried to Order meetings, glanced at the new speaker, Pomona Sprout, and began writing like he was taking notes. After a few hasty scratchings, he angled the book so Harry could read.

Lift up so I can gain better access.

Brilliant! Harry shifted his weight so he could lift his bum a little off the chair, and held himself there, waiting.

He didn't have to wait long. Snape pulled the waistband of Harry's denims back as far as they would go, angled his body closer to Harry, and slid his hand further into Harry's pants. Snape's wicked fingers grazed Harry's perineum before coming to a halt just at the base of Harry's cock, his palm cupping Harry's balls.

Harry twitched against the pressure, wondering how mortified he'd be if he came during an Order meeting. His hand crept across Snape's thigh until it met the hard bulge of Snape's erection. He squeezed it through the linen of Snape's pants, and marveled at what he could feel of its length and girth. It was easy to imagine being impaled by such an impressive shaft. Harry wriggled his bum eagerly.

Snape squeezed the base of Harry's cock again before withdrawing his hand several inches until his fingers quested over Harry's entrance. He massaged the pucker timidly, as if not sure of his welcome there.

Harry drew his wand from his pocket and pointed it toward himself, whispering a lubrication charm. Immediately, he felt the effects of the spell in his arse.

Snape must have felt it, too, because his movements became bolder. He crooked a finger and pushed it into Harry, drawing in a deep breath as it penetrated.

Rocking back on the finger, Harry once again had to stifle a moan. It felt so good to have Snape finally inside him, even if it was only a finger. And, Merlin, to be doing this in a room full of people. That thought alone was about as erotic as Harry could imagine.

He rocked again, adding his movement to the jabs Snape was making. He leaned toward Snape and whispered, "I want you."

"Harry, is there a problem, my boy? Do you have to use the bathroom, perhaps?"

Harry snapped his attention to Dumbledore, realizing quite late that he was squirming rather energetically. He stilled his movements, clenching around Snape's finger. "No. I. Um…."

"Oh, for the love of…" Snape snatched his hand away. He stood and pulled Harry to his feet, dragging him toward the door.

Harry's hands scrabbled inefficiently to pull the hem of his t-shirt down to cover his open fly. When he realized his shirt was too short to do much good, he covered his front with one hand.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, "I do believe Harry can use the bathroom on his own. Neither of you should really miss this meeting, after all, but if Harry has to go…."

"If you will excuse me, Headmaster, Mr. Potter and I must both excuse ourselves. I'm sure you can fill us in later."

Molly Weasley sprang from her seat. "Where are you taking him, Severus? Harry, why are your pants all undone?"

Gods, did she have to point that out? Now the one or two people who hadn't noticed Harry's indecent state were staring at his crotch.

"You really shouldn’t leave a meeting, for any reason." Dumbledore repeated.

"Harry, are you sure about this?" Hermione asked.

"Enough!" Severus yelled. "We are leaving. I am accompanying Mr. Potter to his bedroom and not one of you will disturb us."

"His bedroom?" Molly clapped a hand over her mouth as if she'd said something offensive.

"It is either that, Madam, or I bend him over the table and fuck him here."

Harry'd heard enough. To hell with shielding his modesty. He grabbed Snape's hand and pulled him out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

A few items of clothing were left trailing up the stairs, but Snape and Harry managed to keep their bits covered until they were in Harry's room with the door locked and warded behind them.

Snape said, "Tell me again," as he pushed Harry's boxers down.

"What? Tell you what?" Harry stood on tiptoe and wrapped a hand around the back of Snape's neck, forcing him down for a kiss. He'd tell him anything right now, Snape only had to let him know what he wanted to hear.

Snape kissed him deeply for several moments before pulling away. "You said you want me."

"Merlin. Yeah, I do. Want you so bad." Harry laid small kisses along Snape's chest and neck. "Wanted you for so long."

Snape growled and pushed Harry down onto the bed. He stepped out of the last of his clothing as he was swooping down on top of Harry, covering him completely with his own body. He captured Harry's hands and held them against the bed over Harry's head. "You want me to fuck you."

It was a statement, not a question, but Harry nodded nonetheless.

Snape ground his hips against Harry's. He groaned as their cocks bumped. "It might be prudent for us to wait to fuck. It is a rather large step, after all."

Harry whimpered. If Snape didn't plan on fucking him, he sure as hell shouldn't have fingered him during the meeting.

"Yes, I believe we should wait, Harry. Tomorrow, when we've both had time to think about it, if it is what you still want, I will slowly open you, prepare you carefully for my assault." Snape looked down at him and smirked

"Stop taking the piss! You know you want this as badly as I do." To prove his point, Harry wriggled his hips wantonly, grinding against Snape's engorged cock.

"Perhaps I want to hear how terribly you want me."

"So bad. I want you so bad, Severus. I need to feel you inside me. I want you to take me and use me. Please…."

Severus pressed his lips to Harry's and then pulled back so they were a hairsbreadth apart. His breath tickled against Harry's lips when he said, "Perfect." He lifted off Harry, and after a lubrication spell, began opening and relaxing Harry's entrance.

Soon, Harry was squirming, bucking up onto the three fingers inside him, begging for more, begging for cock.

Severus pulled out his fingers and lightly slapped Harry's thigh. "Up on your knees will be best, I think."

Harry scrambled into position, resting on his elbows, his arse presented for Severus.

"Slow and easy or quick and hard?" Severus asked.

"Gods," Harry moaned. "Quick and hard now. Slow and easy later tonight."

Severus chuckled and grabbed Harry's hips. He entered him in one long slide, then waited for only a scant moment for Harry to adjust before he pulled out and then thrust back in.

Harry pushed back, matching his pace to Severus's thrusts. Keening each time Severus brushed his prostate. "So good. So fucking good."

Severus moved his hands from Harry's hips, wrapping one around his lower stomach and using the other to grab Harry's hair and pull his head back. He pistoned his hips, thrusting hard and fast as he'd promised.

The hair pulling was something Harry'd never felt during sex. It took him about a second to realize he really liked it. He pulled his head forward a little, looking for more burn, hoping for just a bit more pain. Severus seemed to know what Harry was doing. He wound his hand deeper into Harry's hair and pulled just a little harder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry chanted.

Severus's breathing was ragged. His thrusts became almost impossibly hard and deep. "If you want me to keep pulling your hair, you'll have to pull your cock yourself," he rasped.

Harry balanced on one elbow so he could grasp his aching cock. He howled as he began pumping.

Severus twisted Harry's hair roughly and Harry came, shooting his seed onto the duvet. Shouting Severus's name.

Finally letting go of Harry's hair, Severus grasped Harry's hips again and pumped just a few more times until he too was tipped over the edge, filling Harry with warmth.

Severus lay across Harry's back for a moment before rolling off and onto his side, bringing Harry with him, spooning against Harry's back.

"Wow," Harry said. "That was bloody brilliant."

"Mm."

Harry turned just enough so he could see a bit of Severus's face, his nose mostly. "So, are Pygmy Puffs your type, then."

"You've been talking to Albus."

"No. Well, in truth I overheard you two talking…"

Severus chuckled. "Ah, so is that what brought on your sudden bravery?"

Harry's heart fell. "So you really don't think me brave at all, do you? I'm no more than a fluffy little nothing."

Severus pulled a deep breath in through his nose and let it out again, the air ruffling Harry's hair. "You are braver than most when it comes to fighting forces outside yourself. But like me, I believe you shy away from the more personal struggles. Just because I compared you to a Pygmy Puff does not mean I think little of you."

Harry nodded. He supposed he could believe that.

After several minutes of silence, Severus asked, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long will you allow me to share your bed? I would like to know if this was simply a one-off or if you have designs on something more long lasting."

Harry turned in the circle of Severus's arms. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"Once you take a Pygmy Puff in, you're pretty much stuck with him."

Severus nodded. "I can live with that."

fin



End Note: Written in honor of bk7brokemybrain's love of Pocket Pets (cute, small men like DanRad). I was damn near giddy when I realized Pocket Pet and Pygmy Puff shared the same initials. LOL