InsaneJournal

Twice Exiled

                Tentative hoof steps in the hallway. A knock on the open door to his office that caused him to look up. "I suppose you realize I'm the new Divination professor."

                The human grunted in reply.

                "You must be Severus Snape. I hear a lot about you, you know." He smiled softly at the lack of reaction. Maybe your average centaur would have been annoyed with the seemingly arrogant display, but he had a feeling the man was merely treating him the way he would any other human, no lower and no higher.

                "Good evening, Professor," Firenze said cheerfully, turning about again to leave the man in peace. It almost scared him, in a way, how very much he felt he would let this particular human get away with, even if he wasn't living under the graces of Albus Dumbledore. It was the small, dark ones he fell for, and they always proved dangerous. But Firenze liked the way they got the adrenaline pumping.

                "Do you have plans for Easter holidays?" he asked Severus.

                "Do I look like I have plans for Easter?"

                "I can't leave the castle, so I'm glad," said Firenze honestly. Perhaps you'll finally be forced to sit and chat with someone for once.

                "As a matter of fact, I am leaving, actually," he said coldly.

                "You are?" Firenze's face seemed to fall. The potions professor was really one of the few he would wish to talk to, given a choice, but he hadn't really gotten a chance to do so. It was frustrating, to say the least. That and the fact that the man reminded him of a lover he'd once had, but, oh, it was far too long ago to dwell on that. It was a lover he'd never have access to again.

                "Well why don't you offer to have him join you, Severus?" said Minerva.

                "Why don't you?" Severus countered.

                "I'm not leaving the castle. Most of us aren't. I'm sure he wouldn't be much trouble, would you, Firenze? Firenze is a sweet boy, Severus. It will do you some good, I think, to have him around."

                Severus glared at her, but then turned to Firenze and, so as not to be rude to a centaur, of all things, he said, "You'd best pack your things. We leave tomorrow afternoon. How would you like to travel?"

                Firenze smiled gratefully at Minerva for pushing the man into it. Oh, he'd prove his worth one way or another. He remembered hearing stories of boys having sex in the Forbidden Forest, and he planned to find out if this had been one of them. Lovely curves he had, all pale. His face was rough and cold, and it had a special place in Firenze's heart already.

                For the first few days, Firenze seemed content to read books inside. But soon, he'd had enough of the inside of Snape's house. "This is . . . nice . . . but you do know that I haven't been outside hardly at all since my exile, don't you? Because it's true."

                Snape considered this, surprised that the centaur had deigned talk with him at all. Neither of them had said much to each other. Snape had a suspicion the thing could read his mind, for the most part, and that all the Occlumency in the world couldn't have stopped it, could only have slowed it down.

                "Well," he said after a moment, pausing to look down into his tea, thinking, "there is a small sort of woods around here, but it is a Muggle area, so we will have to be careful."

                "A centaur who does not want to be noticed will not be noticed," vowed Firenze.

                Snape narrowed his eyes at that, hoping the thing did not, indeed, wish to be noticed.

                He knew what sort of a picture he made in the sunlight, amongst delicate flowers. He knew he was practically irresistible.

                "This reminds me of the spot where my old lover and I first came together," said Firenze softly, trying to appear lost in thought as he knelt, running a hand through the grass. "There's something about small, fragile flowers that both awes and angers me. I want to destroy them, for some reason, as if their beauty is too great to handle. Too much beauty is never a good thing," he said wistfully.

                Snape seemed to be bored, but beneath the boredom was surprise, Firenze could tell.

                "Did you not think centaurs had lovers?" said Firenze amusedly. Snape looked up at that, blankly. "Well, we do. When I think of Meylin, his lithe, pale body . . . . Ah, you did not think centaurs participated in the love between males. We think all love is beautiful, and natural, and needed to maintain the earth's balance. Have you ever participated in the love between males?" he asked, seemingly innocently.

                "I know some of the students at Hogwarts did," he added before Snape could possibly answer him. "One time, many years ago, I came upon a pair of young humans. Boys. They were rubbing against each other—one had the other pinned to a thick tree. One had soft, blonde hair, and the other was pale with dark hair and needy eyes."

                Snape stood abruptly. He checked his watch stiffly. "It is high time we returned home," he said. There was no arguing with the tone. Even still, it was all the confirmation Firenze needed.

In reality, he'd only heard about the two boys in rut, in the forest, on the tree, hot for each other, very beautiful, hadn't seen them. It was Meylin who had told him about them, actually. Meylin, who he would never see again. He sighed and pushed himself up as well. "They were both stunning creatures," Firenze continued. "It was the only moment of my life that I've ever wished I were human. Not that humans and centaurs cannot . . . ." He put on a blush, suggesting an almost shyness. Really, he was not very shy about it at all. He wanted Snape to begin to think about the two of them together. Maybe it would happen.

                Snape did not go with him to the woods the next few times, but he eventually convinced him to go into them one more time. The break was almost over, after all.

                "You were the boy," was the first thing he said. "The one with the dark hair and the need in the eyes. That was you, was it not? Answer me, friend."

                Snape made no reaction besides to raise an eyebrow.

                "I will accept that as confirmation. Look at me."

                Snape glanced at him for but a moment, but in that time, Firenze latched onto his mind and would not let him look away. He rooted through Snape's mind, reaching for the memory. It was very tough, tougher to do to him than it was to do to even Dumbledore, but he found what he wanted.

                Bark, digging into his back beneath a threadbare jumper—he could feel the scratches the tree's coat made on his back and, also, on his partly-exposed arse. Another boy—Lucius Malfoy, he pulled from the mind—was pinning him to the tree, kissing his cheek, his soft jaw line. He was only 13 years old at the time, in his second year, while Malfoy was taking this chance while he could because he was in his seventh and would soon be leaving. The black eyes were, indeed, needy. He could feel the boy's need—both boys' need.

                Lucius's hair was getting mussed and sweaty, and he was breathing hard, moaning as he rocked his hips against the younger boy's, their pricks rubbing together. Severus tossed his head, exposing his neck to Lucius's greedy teeth which bit him lightly, marking him. Lucius grasped his small hips, pulling him away from the tree, still rubbing against him. Severus moaned too then, until that moment having been rather quiet aside from his harsh breaths. Lucius kneaded the cheeks of Severus's small, tight arse, pressing him against himself so that he could rub and rub, hips rocking frantically.

                Severus's hands rose to his broad shoulders, grasping them tightly, desperate. "Lucius," he pleaded, and that was all it took to send Lucius over the edge. Lucius held him even closer as he spilled himself, rocking against him, groaning, kissing the top of his head. Severus himself wasn't far behind, twitching in between them as his seed too was spilt, clawing even tighter at Lucius's shoulders, trembling. "Lucius," he repeated.

                A very stunned Severus Snape was left staring blankly, blinking for a moment until he snapped out of it. He hesitated for only a moment before he stepped slowly but deliberately in the direction of the house. Firenze sighed and thought to himself that whoever had claimed humans had very little control had never tried to get into Severus Snape's pants.

                The man was hiding from him. It was to be expected, he supposed. He'd just have to wait until the man's curiosity got the better of him. "I'm going out to the woods," he called through the door of the man's room, voice almost a purr.

                He got no response. No matter, that didn't mean the man wasn't thinking about it. He could sense the man's desire, laced with a bit of fear. He could feel, in the air, that something was going to come to a head sooner rather than later, and if a centaur couldn't trust its instincts, no creature could.

                He was kneeling down, picking a delicate flower, when Snape showed up, walking quietly, but Firenze could still sense him. No words were spoken at first. Snape knelt, picking a flower as well. They both looked at their flowers, then glanced at each other. Snape was the first to crumple his flower, standing and squashing it beneath the toe of his boot.

                "You feel the same way about the flowers, do you?" Firenze was amused. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

                "Well," said Snape gruffly, "now that we're in conversation would be the best time to do it."

                "Yes. First of all, let me say, human, that I have been thinking a lot about what I saw in your mind. He is no longer around, but I can be your strong, blonde man, Professor Severus. I can pin you to things. I can use you the way you desire to be used."

                Snape's mouth was hanging open slightly. Firenze stood, and the mouth opened even more pronouncedly as Snape stared at a spot below his belly. At his swelling need. He smiled an open, gentlemanly smile.

                "That settles it, then," he said, bending at the waist and reaching for the man's hand. When his help was accepted, they made their way back to the house in silence. He nudged Severus up the hidden stairway to the bedroom.

                "Now, we're going to start this out with you up on the bed so I can reach you to prepare you. Trust me, you will need much preparation."

                Severus stripped silently, lying back on the bed, naked. Firenze inhaled his scent, noting his fear. "There are spells as well, of course," he said, gesturing to the wand the man had placed on the bedside table. "You will need the wand anyway, if we are to procure something suitable."

                Snape crawled over to reach his wand, Conjuring some lubricant, then loosening himself with a spell, throat feeling dry as he anticipated the feeling of fingers inside of him. Strong, centaur fingers. The fingers dipped into the copious lubricant. "Turn." When Snape's backside was presented to him, he pressed two fingers in deep, all the way to the knuckle. He waited for the man to stop being so tense, gently stroking at his side. He nickered softly, soothingly. It seemed to help. He pushed the fingers in and out for a while, scissoring slightly, still stroking the man's side soothingly.

                A third finger was added, and then a forth as he continued to stretch him. He found a spot that made the man groan in pleasure, and made sure to keep it in mind. He was very grateful to Minerva again. When the entire hand was pushed in, carefully, Severus cried out, shooting himself all over the duvet. It took a few more moments for him to decide the man was stretched enough. "Alright, Professor?" he called. The man moaned in reply.

                "I think, perhaps, that a bench may do us some good."

                Numbly, Snape complied with a flick of his wand, which he still had. The old rocking chair in the corner turned into a bench, one at just the right height. He shakily got up, with help from Firenze.

                "Come and cover me with more lubricant," said Firenze. "I cannot reach myself, but you can reach it for me."

                He felt his mouth water at the prospect of touching that monstrosity between the centaur's legs. "Alright," he said roughly, getting off the bed. Conjuring more lubricant, he leaned down, looking up at the glorious, dripping shaft that he would envy if the thing would not have toppled him right over had it belonged to his body. He tentatively reached up to touch the large shaft.

                His fingertips trembled as he began to coat the length, using the other hand as well. He heard Firenze moan in pleasure at his tentative touches. The centaur's erection was magnificent. He paused to stare at it. It was everything he loved about the appearance of a cock, only more beautiful, bigger, more powerful, more everything. It was so thick and so long, and now it glistened with warm, clear lubricant, and he released it to get up on the bench, lying on his back, bracing himself.

                Firenze licked his lips as he eyed the display Severus made. Severus had even begun to harden again. The best thing about humans was their striking beauty. "Are you ready for me?" he asked him. Severus, after a moment, nodded.

                Firenze stepped forward toward the bench, almost shaky on his four strong legs as he neared Severus. Reaching down to grasp one of the man's hands in one of his own, he felt the man help him align himself to the opening and sighed softly, pressing forward.

                Severus cried out, grasping his hand, tossing his head back so that the ends of some strands of his hair brushed the ground. He made a sound low in his throat.

                Firenze pulled back a bit, and then pushed in again, going a bit farther. Teeth gritted, Severus moaned again.

                He gradually worked more and more of himself into Severus, whose fingers were gripping his own in ecstasy.

                Severus tossed his head as he continued to push in farther and farther, stretching him. He was gentle but firm in his motions, and soon his thrusting became wilder and wilder, and the sounds in Severus's throat rose in volume until he was crying out, practically screaming.

                When the human called out his name, he shot himself into him hard. The head of his prick swelled for a bit as he emptied himself, and stayed that way for a while longer. Severus moaned and reached down to fist himself, come splattering Firenze's soft, tan belly. He stopped moving entirely, and Firenze had the suspicion that he'd passed right out.

                "Professor?" he called. "Severus?" He received no answer. He pulled out very carefully, then lifted the man, helping him into the bed. Finding a soft cloth in the bathroom, he returned to clean both of them as best as he could, though could not reach all of the come on his belly. Severus stirred, finally, and helped him with that before falling into a thoughtful silence, staring at him.

                "We rest now," said Firenze, "and later we'll go out to the wood again."

                "I don't have a place to stay this summer, you know."

                "What are you telling me for?" he snapped, looking up from the Prophet.

                "You are my lover. My human lover," he purred, and that seemed to shut the man up for a moment. "So I can live here, then? In these rooms?"

                "If it is alright with the Headmaster," said Severus carefully.

                Firenze grinned at him. "A thought just occurred to me."

"What?" Snape said, looking warily at the smiling face of the centaur.

                "I should be exiled again."

                Snape quirked an eyebrow, letting the man reach across the table to pat his hand gently.

                "You see, I was put on watch for letting a human ride me, and then I was exiled for choosing to live among them." He smirked widely. "Now I've gone and done it again."

                Snape let out a surprised snort.

                It was a sad moment indeed when Dumbledore told Firenze it would not be possible for him to live with Severus. But they still spent time together, here and there, especially for late night rendezvouses. Severus had grown quite adept at transfiguring furniture into benches of just the right size.

                "I will miss you this summer," said Firenze. "Will you miss me as well, human?" He reached out to stroke his cheek.

                "You ask the most foolish questions." He leaned in to give him a quick embrace, and then he left for his rooms. Firenze sighed and imagined a summer alone. They wrote each other, though. Or, rather, he had a particularly clever house-elf read and write for him. It was still lonely, though.

                Severus seemed tense when he came back the next year, teaching Defense now instead of Potions. He had taken to staying in the man's room, and he received no protest to doing so. It was comfortable. He had a feeling Severus needed someone to support him, even if he did not know what he was supporting.

When Severus killed the headmaster, Firenze calmly made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. He read the stars and had his answer. "Good luck, Severus," he whispered into the night air, hair and flesh tinged blue in the soft light of the moon.

                Amycus burst through the door to the Headmaster's office, bandaged and looking quite irate. "I . . . hate . . . fucking . . . centaurs," he said slowly, seething.

                "That's a shame," said Severus, sipping his tea calmly as he flipped through the month's Potions: Then and Now. "I find it rather pleasant."

                Amycus paused for a moment, sitting down, scratching his head. "Find what pleasant?" he asked after a while.

                "Oh never mind." Snape placed his cup down and looked up at Amycus. "Let me see your wounds." As he helped further heal the man, he praised the race that was, indeed, far superior to that of the humans.

                "What are you smirking about?" Amycus called gruffly.

                "Trust me," said Snape softly. "You don't want to know."

                Amycus eyed him suspiciously, but let it pass. Weird bugger Snape was, he was probably right about that. "Hey!" he called when Snape was a bit rough with his wounds.

                Snape smirked again.