40 Days

December 8, 1997

"We should kidnap Snape." Harry said, idly looking down at the marauders map in his lap.

"We're not killing Severus Snape."

"Why not?"

"Because he's—he's" I stuttered, my overactive brain annoyingly silent.

"He's a death eater, responsible for Dumbledore dying, and not to mention a raging arsehole." Harry placed the map to his side, standing up to walk to where I was stirring mushroom soup, stopping behind me. "Wouldn't making him pay for all the shite he put you through feel good?"

"Don't make this about me when it's about you. We have no way of luring Snape out of Hogwarts and there's no way we'd be able to get into Hogwarts without getting caught."

I felt Harry reach out and play with my braid. "It'd be easy. We have the map."

I thought of Harry bloody and cutting off pieces of Snape. Despite the high levels of peace draught in my bloodstream, my heartbeat picked up. Was it fucked up that it was easier to deal with him killing people I barely knew or didn't know, but the thought of him killing our potions professor still made me queasy?

I needed to do something to distract him from this line of thought. I turned off the heat for the soup, turned around, and leaned up to give him a kiss. "What about—what about Goyle?"

"Hmm." Harry responded noncommittally, and I slid my hand down his chest until I reached his pants.

"Let's question him first, okay?" I unbuttoned his jeans, sliding my hand in to grab his cock.

He gave a moan as I started to stroke him. "Since you're being so persuasive..."