Beta: My grateful thanks to the enormously talented Luthien, who 
beta read with great skill, grace and patience. All remaining errors 
are mine.

Credit also to Bernice, with grateful thanks for encouragement and 
the use of her Relaxarse spell (tm). Much appreciated. ;-) 

A/N: Yes, Snape/Hagrid. [snicker]. Why? Because size does matter, 
obviously. Go on. Give it a shot. You know you want to ;-)

The task Dumbledore had quietly set for Snape was a daunting one. 
This particular potion had not been brewed by anyone, as far as he 
knew, in several centuries.

It had taken months of research to even discover its existence. 
Potions Master though he was, there were a great many ancient brews 
of which he had no specific knowledge. They had fallen into disuse, 
knowledge of their properties and power disappearing from the art, or 
sometimes clinging to the modern day through half forgotten legends. 

The Headmaster had outlined the task before him quite simply, and had 
left it to Severus to find a way to achieve it. Snape was quite 
aware of the confidence the old wizard had in his abilities, yet it 
was not that alone which prompted his painstaking search through 
ancient, dusty texts in his quest to find answers. His own deep love 
of potion lore made the task richly satisfying. That the end result 
was to create a way to destroy the Death Eaters' inner circle from 
within was a bonus. An important one, however, and Snape had bent to 
his secret task with the zeal of a perfectionist in his field.

Still brimming with the adrenalin charged excitement of his 
discovery, Snape moved along the shelves in the dungeon storeroom, 
mentally cataloguing the ingredients at hand, and noting those that 
he would need to seek out. There were several items that even he, in 
his years of practice, had never had occasion to use. A clandestine 
trip to a specialist apothecary was in order.

Albus Dumbledore sat at the centre of the staff dining table, 
indulging in the never-ending pleasure of the riotous atmosphere in 
the Great Hall. All about him the wizards and witches of the next 
generation chatted and laughed as they finished their meals, creating 
a wonderful buzz of happy sound that never failed to content their 
elder. 

As he often did, Albus silently thanked the fates that granted him 
his precious role in life; directing and educating these young minds 
and spirits, fostering in them a love of wizarding lore and culture, was 
simply the most satisfying vocation he could ever envisage. He loved 
these children, loved them with all his heart and soul. They never 
ceased to amaze him with their endless variety, their individual 
qualities shining brightly through the paradoxically repetitive cycle 
of school life. Ah, though some might only see a simple pattern of 
sameness, year in, year out, he saw the wonderfully complex textures 
within the great tapestry that each singular child added. 

This fierce, burning love for his charges not surprisingly pointed 
the way towards his other, less public role. An outwardly gentle 
man, Albus was ruthless in defence of the children and their families, in 
protecting all that made up the essence of the wondrous wizarding 
world. In cooperation with the Ministry of Magic, Albus led all who 
would follow against the encroaching evil that was Lord Voldemort.

His still-youthful eyes scanned the room, noting with pleasure and 
amusement the exact moment that another Fred and George Weasley prank 
came to fruition. He added his silent chuckles to theirs as Lee 
Jordan's mane of dreadlocked hair became a kaleidoscopic windmill of 
multicoloured strands, waving cheerily in the air as Lee turned and 
thumped the shoulder of Fred, who was bent almost double in laughter. 

Averting his gaze so as to let them continue on without seeming to 
have claimed the attentions of the Headmaster, his eyes found the 
figure of Severus Snape. The normally taciturn man was even more 
withdrawn than usual, seemingly lost in thought and oblivious to the 
parade of life around him. Albus watched the frown of concentration 
that marred the professor's forehead, inwardly noting for the 
hundredth time how pleasing was the sharp profile and soft dark hair 
of this noble born wizard. A quiet sigh escaped him as he wondered, 
also for the hundredth time, why the fates had decreed that this 
remarkable soul should spend so much of his life alone, and lonely. 
It seemed to him a terrible waste of such dark beauty, both within 
and without, for Severus to have never found in another the life mate 
he deserved. As always, his own heart ached to see the younger 
wizard in his bitter self-imposed isolation, wishing only that he 
would one day find a partner to balance his introspective nature. 
Someone lively and cheeky would be best, Albus impishly concluded 
with a smirk.

As if the sparkle in his eyes had flashed between them, he saw 
Severus look over and focus, finally, on his own gaze. A querying 
eyebrow from Albus resulted in a slight thinning of lips on Severus' 
austere face, and a small shake of the head. A tiny gesture towards 
the outer doors was the only signal needed to inform Albus that 
Severus requested a conversation with him after the meal. Both men 
returned their attention to their plates, and resumed the attack on a 
particularly rich berry pudding with butterscotch sauce. Delightful.

"Walk with me Severus," requested the Headmaster. "Such a meal needs 
to be worked off, I think."

"Certainly Headmaster," replied Snape as all the staff stood and 
stretched at the meal's conclusion. 

The pair wound their way through the crowded hallways, the younger 
children's boisterous antics stilling hurriedly upon catching sight 
of them, one regal, majestic and revered figure, the other 
somewhat feared and resented. The look of distaste pasted across 
Snape's features did nothing for the shaky confidence of first years 
as they gulped and moved aside, or stood frozen like rabbits in the 
hunter's lamp only to be dragged to the side by their more able peers.

"You haven't lost your touch I see," Albus murmured for Snape's ears 
alone.

Shooting a glare at the older man, Snape declined to comment. Albus 
recognised the almost invisible signs of amusement in the tense lines 
scored around Severus' mouth, and moved with a lighter step than his 
age and the heavy repast should allow.

Exiting through a side door leading to the playing fields, both men 
took deep, cleansing breaths of the fresh wind that had blown up over 
the lake. The distant waters rippled in the moonlight, the 
reflection from the stars above sparkling the surface like a 
multitude of fairy lights. Albus squinted and peered closer. One 
couldn't assume that they weren't in fact fairy lights, after all. 
Who could know all the festivals to which the faerie folk held 
allegiance? Their celebrations were not all performed under cover of secrecy; 
it would not surprise him in the least were he to discover thousands of tiny 
boats adrift and glowing with eldritch splendour.

Deciding that distance defeated him this time, Albus returned his 
attention to the silent man keeping pace with him on the worn path as 
they made their way further from the castle. Judging them safely cut 
off from public notice, he cleared his throat and asked "Something 
troubled you during dinner, did it not?"

Snape's open gaze dropped the years from his face, and Albus was 
reminded again how young the other wizard truly was. Solemnity, and 
more often than not, a truly wicked sarcasm, made the Potions 
Master appear older than he was. On the few occasions that Albus had 
seen a genuine, carefree smile lighten Severus' features, his breath 
had caught at the stark beauty before him. He had even, once or 
twice, had to remind himself that Severus was indeed very young in 
comparison to himself, and quite unsuited to a pairing with 
a wizard 6 times his own age.

Such was life. Still, it was always a marvellous thing to behold 
something beautiful, to acknowledge how precious and unique it was, 
and to find joy in the sharing of friendship. A great believer in 
finding the good in all things wherever possible was Albus 
Dumbledore. 

"I find myself somewhat frustrated, Headmaster," Snape replied. "My 
visit to Brandenwein's was successful in all but one item. I fear it 
may be impossible to procure." 

His despondent tone produced an answering frown from Dumbledore. It 
was quite unlike Snape to admit to impending defeat, most especially 
in his own field of expertise. 

"What is it that you're missing, Severus?" he asked. "Perhaps I may 
have a contact or two..."

"Possibly, but I rather doubt it," was the short reply. They trudged 
on, Snape's posture revealing his tension.

"Well we won't know until you try me!" Albus finally offered as the 
silence grew.

A begrudging grunt of acknowledgment reached him just as Snape halted 
and looked up at the night sky. With arms crossed over his chest 
defensively, his black robes catching in the gentle wind, he 
looked for all the world as though beseeching an answer from the 
heavens. 

"The final, and vital, ingredient is a... rare extract from the race 
of giants." He whirled towards the older man, suddenly violent with 
suppressed energy. "The giants have all fled, as you well know," 
Snape continued, his intense gaze underscoring the seriousness of his 
predicament. "Gods only know where they all are now. Rumours 
abound, but each one contradicts the other. We are faced with 
pinning our hopes for success on the vagaries of unsubstantiated 
hearsay. We can't afford the time or the manpower to instigate a 
proper search. The substance we need is simply out of our reach."

Albus looked nonplussed as Snape's bunched fists punched the air 
beside him, emphasising his almost fury at coming so close to their 
goal, only to be thwarted by a single essence. If he wasn't sure 
those fists wouldn't be turned on him, Albus would have been tempted 
to laugh, his mind incongruously picturing Severus as the little boy 
he'd once been, fiercely determined to succeed and prone to the 
occasional tantrum.

"Hmmm," he mused aloud, finger tapping his chin. "That is indeed a 
difficulty. Is there perhaps some stocks still held in the 
apothecaries of Europe..."

A swift shake of negation interrupted his suggestion. "No, it needs 
to be... freshly harvested. The dried or powdered versions simply 
will not substitute. I checked," Snape replied.

"Very well," Albus murmured, deferring at once to Snape's 
indisputably superior knowledge in this arena. He became lost in 
thought as he turned the matter over in his mind.

As one, they proceeded again on the path, each in contemplation of 
the problem before them. Several minutes went by as their feet chose 
directions neither consciously noted. The serene beauty of the 
silvered landscape went unappreciated as they meandered across fields 
bordering the Forbidden Forest. 

The appearance ahead of warm yellow light spilling from the window of 
a cabin pulled the Headmaster up short. "Severus," he called, as the 
other strode ahead.

Snape turned and walked back, closing the distance swiftly. "Albus?" 
he queried, seeing the change in the older wizard's face, recognising 
the subtle signs of excitement heralding the arrival of an idea.

"Does this extract need to be from a full-blooded giant?" Albus asked 
quietly.

Shock gave Snape's appearance an almost comical aspect as 
understanding hit him in full force. "No... it does not," he 
breathed, as he turned and stared at the humble cottage, smoke 
wisping from its chimney into the chill night air.

"Oh my God..." he mumbled. And shuddered.

Albus' look of confusion only flustered the Potions Master further. 
A deep, burning flush stole over his face and he turned away, not 
rapidly enough to escape notice.

"Well, what's wrong?" Dumbledore asked, a hint of frustration 
creeping into his own voice now. "Surely all our answers lie before 
us. What other problem do you foresee?"

Snape turned back to face him, a somewhat evil expression now 
returning his features to something quite recognisable to his 
students. "The problem, Headmaster, lies in the harvesting of the 
substance we require. It is of a rather, shall we say, intimate
nature."

The crossed arms and raised, sardonic brow left Dumbledore with no 
illusions as to what Snape referred. His own irrepressible humour 
reasserted itself, and he attempted gamely to bury the grin 
blossoming from his lips, to no avail. 

"Oh, ho ho, yes, very funny indeed," sneered the younger wizard. "I 
recommend you do the honours then Headmaster. Hagrid would clearly 
follow you to the ends of the earth, as his noxious hound does 
for him. You are clearly the most suitable candidate to approach him 
with this request."

An actual laugh did escape Dumbledore then, as he shook his head, 
smiling in delight at the discomforted man. "Oh but I must disagree 
with you, Potions Master. The gathering of ingredients for all 
concoctions most certainly comes under the purview of your 
responsibilities. I couldn't possibly interfere in the execution of 
your solemn duties." If his grin had grown any wider his white whiskers 
would have stood up in the air.

"You must be joking," Snape snapped. Any greater hissing of his 
sibilants and he would embody the very emblem of his house.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore countered decisively. "I ask you 
Severus, is there any other possible substitution for this, ah, 
substance?" At Snape's reluctant shake of the head, he went on more 
softly. "I sympathise with the absurdity of the situation, Severus, 
but truly, do you see another alternative?"

"No," was the almost unheard reply.

The Headmaster had returned to the castle, having aborted his 
attempted pep talk mid-sentence when Snape's warning growl convinced 
him it was best to simply leave him to get on with it. With a last 
attempt at reassurance, he patted the resigned wizard on the shoulder 
and disappeared into the night, his purple robes swishing against the 
grass until they too, could no longer be discerned.

Snape searched his pockets, knowing already that sterile specimen 
jars lay within, as they always did, on the off chance a desired 
plant or insect could add unexpectedly to his supplies. Knowing his 
actions for the delaying tactics they were, he mentally braced 
himself and approached the cottage door.

Having reached his goal, he stood there uncertainly, rehearsing how 
to approach this impossible scenario. He found himself at a 
complete loss, however, and almost turned to escape back to the 
safety of his dungeons, to try again another night.

Cursing himself for the streak of cowardice, and cursing Dumbledore 
for not offering to take his place, Snape banged loudly on the door.

"'Oo is it?" yelled Hagrid, as Fang set up a din guaranteed to raise 
the hackles of any centaur for miles around.

The door opened and light spilled out, blinding Snape momentarily. 
His sight cleared to see Hagrid's massive bulk filling the door 
frame, holding onto Fang's studded collar with his enormous fist. The dog's 
mad howling only increased upon sighting him.

"For Gods sake, Hagrid, shut that animal up at once!" snarled Snape, 
betraying his agitation. The cacophony was doing nothing to help 
settle his already thinly stretched nerves.

" 'ere Fang, that's enough fella, i's orright, jus' Professor Snape, 
see?" The hound swallowed the final growls into a yawn, then shook 
himself, drool flying from his jowls as he turned and padded back 
over onto his blanket by the fire.

"Oh, that's ... disgusting!" Snape muttered, fingers stopping just 
short of flicking the odd dollop of slime from the folds of his once 
immaculate robe.

"'m sorry Professor, Fang didn't mean to get yeh. Just got caught in 
the backwash, hehe... Would yeh care to come in?"

"Not really," Snape replied sotto voce, but his legs failed to hear 
him and he walked into the large single room, Hagrid shutting the 
door closed behind him.

"'ere, lemme get yeh a cloth fer yeh robes, Professor," said Hagrid, 
bustling over to his sink and returning quickly. He busied himself 
wiping the dog's spittle from the folds of the rich fabric, engrossed 
in locating and removing even the smallest trace. His large hands 
played deftly over the figure standing before him, and Snape heard a 
horrified gasp when Hagrid realised that he was scrubbing diligently 
at the man's groin.

Hagrid's eyes made frightened contact with Snape's startled face. A 
strangled "Yes, thank you, I think you've got it all," and Hagrid 
jumped up and backed away rather rapidly.

"Right then. Right. That's that then. Good." Hagrid looked as 
though he was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him. 
When it failed to do so, he finally turned and rinsed the cloth, 
wringing it almost into separate threads before spreading it along 
the windowsill to dry.

Turning back with somewhat more composure, he offered a weak 
welcoming smile. "'ave a seat Professor, and I'll put the kettle 
on. Cup o' tea?"

"Yes thank you, that would be most welcome." Snape settled onto the 
rough-hewn kitchen chair with relief.

"P'raps a dollop of something stronger with it then?" Hagrid asked, 
looking worriedly at Snape.

"Yes, indeed, something stronger," Snape repeated, determined not to 
seem too pathetically grateful when Hagrid added an extra nip. The 
usually cool Potions Master had never been so rattled, not even when 
Neville Longbottom had managed to spill a ladleful of curlicue 
mixture onto his hand, causing his straight black hair to instantly 
spring into shiny ringlets.

Snape grasped the over-sized and only slightly chipped cup tightly 
between two long-fingered hands (shaking? Of course not!) and 
rapidly drained its contents. 

"'ere, 'ave another," prompted Hagrid, pouring another generous 
serve, and another into his own cup as well for good measure. The 
Potions Master suspected he wasn't the only one feeling a bit 
flustered.

Snape watched as the gamekeeper sat back to survey his unlikely 
guest, smacking huge lips and obviously feeling a bit bolstered up 
from the drink. It wasn't often Snape ever ventured down this end of 
the fields, certainly not for a good couple of years. Finding 
himself on Hagrid's doorstep was as unlikely as seeing McGonagall 
leading the cheerleaders at a Quidditch match. Although there had 
been that one Christmas when Peeves had spiked the punch, and Minerva 
had tap-danced her way down the corridors, finally coming to rest at the 
foot of Sir Brussel's rather battered suit of armour, which had had 
to step sideways to avoid her precipitous halt. The sight of the 
Transfigurations Professor with hat and robes askew, flashing a still 
shapely pair of pins, all things considered, wasn't one anyone was 
likely to forget in a hurry. 

"So... Professor. What can I do fer yeh? Err... best ter put that a 
different way p'raps, I mean, ter what do I owe the, err, 'onour 
of... "

"The Headmaster, Hagrid." Snape's interruption was brusque. Possibly 
he hadn't quite been fortified by the 'tea' as much as he could have 
been. Snape pretended not to notice when Hagrid poured 
another cup, complete with additives. "Dumbledore sent me to see you."

"Aye, what can I do fer 'im? Nuthin' I wouldn't do fer that man. 
Great man is Dumbledore."

Hagrid's question froze him momentarily. "Well, you see Hagrid... " 
he began.

"...yer...?" 

Snape licked dry lips, and tried again.

"A matter of great importance has arisen." Yes, that was a good 
start. Now what? "As I'm sure you're aware, the battle against the 
Dark Forces is being fought on many fronts."

Hagrid's eyes were growing wider at every word. Snape cringed 
inwardly as Hagrid's thoughts paraded across his face. 'What secret 
mission was Dumbledore entrusting to him? Oh, he wouldn't let the 
great wizard down, anything within his power to help, he'd do and 
more!'

"Aye," Hagrid breathed, waiting.

"There is a potion. It hasn't been used in centuries, but if my 
studies are correct, it has unique properties, and, when correctly 
administered, could help sway the outcome of our struggles in our 
favour." Snape was rather pleased with himself so far.

"An' 'e want's me t' deliver it for yeh, does 'e? No' a problem! 
Dumbledore's entrusted the righ' man. I'll see it gets ter where 
it's goin', 'ave no fear."

Severus felt his nostrils flare in exasperation. "Er, no, actually, 
that's not it. We, that is, I have yet to brew the potion."

"Well, get on wi' it, man! What's holdin' yeh up?"

"Really Hagrid, if you will kindly let me finish."

"Oh, righ', sorry Professor, don't mind me," Hagrid said, a bit 
shamefaced. "I get a bit - I'd do anything for Professor 
Dumbledore. Great man, Dumbledore, great man." He noticed Snape's 
expression. "Go on then."

Hagrid poured another cup of his tea mixture into both cups, as Snape 
settled a determined expression on his face and bravely tried once 
again.

"The potion has certain ingredients, quite rare and, unusual, I might 
even say. I've managed to gather all of them bar one, and can begin 
the process immediately on acquiring the last missing, err, element."

"Wha'ever could i' be?" Hagrid asked, his curiosity obviously 
running riot as he almost immediately forgot his promise to let Snape 
finish. "Somethin' from one of me interestin' creatures, no doubt. He, he, 
the wizards'd all put their noses up a' me a' one time or another 
with me devotion ter the care of these misunderstood lovelies, but 
sooner or later I knew they'd come ter be appreciated!" Hagrid's 
chest started to puff, obviously feeling not a little pride at the 
thought of some small vindication, after years of 
being slighted for his interests. Then he cast a worried glance at 
Snape, obviously realising that he shouldn't have voiced such thought 
in his present company. "I shouldna' 've said that," he added apologetically.

Snape waved the apology away, relieved to be finally getting 
somewhere.

"An' which of my beauties can get yeh what yeh need, Professor?" 
Hagrid asked, face aglow with eagerness, and the growing effects of 
the tea.

Snape choked over the top of his cup, caught unawares for the second 
time that evening. Obviously alarmed, Hagrid stood and thumped him 
repeatedly on the back, which had the unfortunate 
result of laying him flat on the floor.

"Oh! Professor, lemme help yeh up there, dunno me own strength 
som'times," Hagrid said as he lifted the still disabled wizard easily
with one hand. Snape stood unsteadily, swaying and coughing as 
Hagrid held him upright.

"'Ere, lean on this a mo', I'll get yeh som'in ter 'elp," Hagrid 
muttered, turning towards a cupboard. Snape clutched the back of the 
chair as his breath started coming back in great whoops, making Fang 
lift his sleepy head from the blanket and eye him suspiciously.

Hagrid returned, a huge glass full of amber coloured liquid sparkling 
in his grip. "'Ere, get this down. Do yeh wonders this stuff."

Once again Snape found himself gulping down a dubious sample of 
Hagrid's strange supply of beverages. The liquid burned it's way 
down his throat, clearing his nose instantly, but making his eyes 
water in copious quantities.

"Gah! What on earth is that stuff?" he gasped, blinking owlishly. 

"Some of me best home brew, tha' is," Hagrid answered. "Yeh no' the 
only one 'oo can mix 'em up, yeh know. I've been perfectin' this 
recipe fer decades. Good, init?" 

"It's... not bad, actually," Snape managed, voice still a little 
hoarse. "May I...?" He held out the glass and waved it vaguely in 
Hagrid's direction.

"Comin' right up!" Hagrid said, appearing pleased as anything. 
Another full glass was presented to the slightly swaying professor, 
though whether the swaying was due to the effects of the drink or the 
helpful thumping was not quite clear. Hagrid helped himself to a 
beaker of the home brew, and set the flagon on the table between them.

Snape slid into his chair again, propping his head up with one hand. 
He peered at Hagrid over his fingers, squinting slightly as he 
focused on the face before him.

"You're not making this any easier, you know," he drawled slowly. He 
paused while he took a sip of his drink, swallowing it down and 
licking his lips. He looked at nothing in particular for a few 
moments, then shook himself and returned his attention to the man 
dwarfing him across the table.

"It's not what you think," Snape said, enunciating each word very 
precisely. If only he could just make every syllable absolutely 
clear then surely that would sort out the matter once and for all.

"'s not?" asked Hagrid.

"No," Snape said emphatically, shaking his head from side to side, 
then leaning at a slight angle and finally catching the edge of the 
table before he could tumble back down to the floor. 

"It's you, you big, daft... " Snape's hiccup interrupted what he was 
about to say, and Hagrid's snigger had Snape smiling serenely back at 
him. Hagrid looked a bit unnerved at that.

"You're a giant," Snape said.

Hagrid pulled back and blinked in surprise. "Well, yeh got it 'arf 
righ' , I s'pose," he responded cautiously. "Not tha' I usually bandy 
tha' about."

"'Course, of course," Snape said, nodding agreeably. "But it's what 
we need, you see."

Hagrid nodded, and Snape looked at him happily, quite satisfied with 
his own explanations so far.

Still nodding, Hagrid ventured "an' yeh need what, exactly, then?" 

God, it was like pulling dragon's teeth. "Giant seed. Emission of 
the great race. Loinal larva from the large. It's all in the old 
parchments."

"Wha'?" Hagrid screwed up his face till his cheeks looked like small 
ruddy plums, confusion wrinkling his great broad brow.

"Your semen, Hagrid. We need a sample of your semen." Snape burped 
genteelly into the air. "Be a good man and toss off in this will 
you?" he said, rummaging through the pockets of his robes once 
more. Blast it all, but where the hell had he put those jars 
anyway? They'd been right there earlier.

Snape started at the sound of Hagrid's chair crashing to the ground. 
He paused, his hands lost deep within his robes, and stared at the 
larger man in surprise.

"Yer've got to be out of yer fookin' mind!" the shocked man 
cried. "I've never 'eard such rubbish! What do yeh think yer playin' 
at?"

Hagrid's outrage was a somewhat daunting sight. Snape's mind cleared 
slightly as he belatedly considered the possible effects on the 
immediate surroundings of an enraged half-giant, and the injuries one 
could inflict. As his fingers finally located one of the elusive 
jars, he prudently attempted a little damage control.

"Now Hagrid, there's no need for histrionics. It is indeed a vital 
ingredient. We must procure some, and you're the only available 
subject. This is a highly important matter, Hagrid! Dumbledore is 
depending on you," he added, playing what he prayed was a winning 
card.

"I don't give a flyin' Hippogriff's arse, yer not fiddlin' about with 
me private parts. Now sod off, and take yer flippin' ruddy great 
jars with yeh!"

"Hagrid, sit down man. Please!" Snape snapped. "I'm not leaving 
here until I get what I came for. The fate of the wizarding world 
could depend on the success of this potion, and our sensibilities 
aside, I think that's a bit more important than your pride, don't 
you?"

The sound of Snape's remonstrance with its familiar mocking cadence 
ironically calmed the giant man more than any particular argument. 
He seemed to find it a relief to find even one thing familiar in the 
face of the surreal request before him. Shaking his head, no doubt 
at the idea of taking comfort in anything Severus Snape said, Hagrid 
righted the chair and slowly lowered his bulk back down. He glared at 
the Potions Master, his beard bristling over his crossed arms as he pushed 
out his lower lip and glowered.

"It's tha' important, then, is't?" he grumbled.

"Oh absolutely," Snape assured him. "This simply cannot happen 
without you. It's an unusual situation, I'll grant you, but think of 
the good you can achieve!"

Hagrid hunkered down further into his chair, pout almost trembling 
with the internal battle he was apparently waging. Snape decided 
silence was the most prudent course at this point, and helped himself 
to another swallow of Hagrid's brew. It really was quite more-ish. 

"I dunno... "

Severus picked up the flagon and poured another serve into Hagrid's 
beaker and his own glass. "It's not as if I wanted to come and ask 
you, you know. You don't imagine you're high on my list of social 
calls, do you? But I didn't have any other choice either. I can 
assure you, if I had an alternative, I would have taken it in a 
heartbeat."

Hagrid looked even more offended at that.

"Well now," the giant muttered, smoothing his beard with one great 
hand, his fingers trailing though the knots and catching, "I s'pose 
there's nuthin' fer it then. Gotta be done, init?"

Snape looked up, a faint victorious smirk trying gamely to stay 
unexpressed. "That's the spirit Hagrid. Knew you wouldn't let us 
down." He thumped the flagon back on the table, and lifted his glass 
in salute. "Off you go then."

"Oh! Righ', then," Hagrid said, swallowing visibly. He reached for 
the jar, reluctance in every line of his body. He stood, holding the 
jar away from him with a trace of horror on his face.

'Typical,' thought Snape. 'The man happily stands shoulder to 
shoulder with creatures made of the stuff of nightmares, but handles 
a simple jar like it's about to leap up and tear his throat out.'

Hagrid shuffled towards the back door leading to the gardens. "I'll, 
err, jus' go out t' ther back sheds then. Be righ' back."

"Very good. I'll just be counting the minutes till you return," 
Snape drawled.

A panicked expression raced across Hagrid's face. "Yeh will?"

"No, you fool." Rolling his eyes, Snape added wearily, "Take your 
time. I'll just help myself to a little more of your home brew, if I 
may."

"Oh, yer, be my guest," Hagrid replied, finally making it through the 
door and shutting it firmly behind him.

Snape slumped at the table. Even dealing with those loathsome first 
year students wasn't as exhausting as this. He picked up his glass 
and drank deeply, only putting it back on the table when it was 
completely empty.

His eyes roamed about the room, idly noting the rustic and simple 
furnishings. He shuddered as he raised his eyes and saw the game 
hanging directly above. Most of it wasn't identifiable, and Snape 
wondered what improbable denizens of the Forbidden Forest contributed 
to the large man's larder. Best not to speculate. Thank God for 
house elves.

Snape stood, somewhat unsteadily, and made his way over to the 
fireplace, warming his hands against the flames. His eyes were drawn 
to the miscellany scattered haphazardly over the mantle piece. 
Bits of bone, a ball of hairy, nasty coloured wool, a photograph of 
the Gryffindor Quidditch team in flight (the Potter boy waving to him 
as he flew past - couldn't he escape that dratted child 
anywhere?), and boxes of matches from the Three Broomsticks pub in 
Hogsmeade. Not the most elegant of homes, obviously, but he had to 
admit, grudgingly, that Hagrid had made the most of the 
little space he had. The cottage was crammed with all the sundry 
articles useful for life as a busy groundsman and gamekeeper. 

The door flew open with a resounding crash, and Snape jumped, almost 
landing in the hearth.

"It's no good!" yelled Hagrid. "I can't just do i' ter order. This 
is bloody hopeless." He strode over to the table, draining his 
beaker in one swift move.

Snape, beating out the flames licking at the edge of his robe, was 
dismayed. "You can't give up. Try it again," he said.

"But I can't!" wailed the giant. "Every time I, you know, 'ave a go, 
me mind wanders off an' I jus' lose it."

Snape groaned and sat back at the table, putting his head in his 
hands. Why, oh why hadn't he been able to convince Dumbledore to do 
this instead of him? Life was so unfair.

"All right. Let's think about this. Maybe we're going about this 
the wrong way," Snape began.

"I'm not doin' anythin' else without a drink," said Hagrid, and 
proceeded to pour them both another serving from the flagon. 

"Good idea," said Snape. "I think I need one, too. Have a few more, 
and maybe you'll loosen up."

Both men sat drinking despondently at the table, silently cursing 
themselves and each other. After a few more turns at the flagon,
Hagrid shook it upside down, frowning as the last drops spilled out.

"Be'er ge' us a refill," he said, his words slurring, and turned back 
to the cupboard.

"What about if you had some inspiration?" asked Snape, once again 
enunciating his words slowly and carefully.

Hagrid returned to the table and looked him up and down. "Wha' sort 
of inspiration?"

"Oh, I don't know," Snape said, waving his hands loosely in the 
air. "What usually does the trick?"

Hagrid's eyes unfocussed as he appeared to search his memories.

"Heh, heh, heh," he snickered.

"Got something?" Snape asked, sitting up straighter. Well, what he 
thought was straight. Straight usually didn't curve so much to the 
right.

"Well, yeah, sorta," Hagrid admitted. Another chuckle escaped him.

"Well, what is it?" Snape asked impatiently.

"I's like, I get sorta, heh, heh, well, turned on, yeh know, when I'm 
dancin'," Hagrid said sheepishly.

Snape blinked at him slowly. "Dancing," he said, face perfectly 
straight, although his eyes had started to cross ever so slightly.

"Well, yer," blustered Hagrid. "Nothin' wrong wi' that, is there?"

"No. No, there isn't. Right, get dancing then," Snape ordered.

"I can't just 'get dancin', can I?" whined the big man. "I need 
music, and a partner."

"A... partner?" Snape repeated, voice rising slightly.

"Well, yer, that's what does it fer me. Yer know, holdin' 'em close, 
swayin' and touchin', movin' and rubbin'... "

Choking yet again on his drink (his robes were in a disgusting state 
by this stage), Snape looked at the giant with something akin to fear.

"And I suppose you'd know where to get a partner at this time of 
night, would you?" he asked plaintively.

"Nope," said Hagrid.

A sad sort of sigh escaped the wizard. Why wasn't he surprised it 
had come to this? Thankfully his system was being cushioned by the 
benevolent effects of their beverage, or he'd have probably run full 
pelt back to his dungeons long before now.

"Right then. I suppose I'll... dance with you," he offered, feeling 
his face gain a bit of colour for a change, as warmth suffused it.

Hagrid leaned back and looked him up and down speculatively. "I 
dunno," he said slowly. "I s'pose you could do i' fer me."

Flushing even hotter, Snape snapped "You can always imagine I'm 
someone else. Rosmerta, I suppose," he said disdainfully.

"No," said Hagrid, "there's no need, really. You'll do. Yer not bad 
lookin' really, fer a bloke. I could do worse."

"Oh, spare me!" cried Snape. As if this wasn't mortifying enough.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, seeming to warm to the idea. "I'll jus' 
put the radio on." 

He got up and stumbled over to his bedside table where an ancient 
Bakelite receiver stood. He tapped a few of its charmed dials, and 
the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) sprang to life, the strains of a 
slow ballad filling the little cabin.

Snape closed his eyes as he sat, composing himself. Did he really 
need to continue with this? Couldn't he find another potion for 
Dumbledore, something with ingredients a little more accessible? 

He opened his eyes again to see Hagrid swaying on the rug before the 
fire, face a little dreamy and arms held out from his body.

"Well, come on, then. Watcha waitin' fer?" Hagrid called.

Snape grabbed his glass, downed it, and stood. Squaring his 
shoulders (he thought), he walked resolutely over to the big man. 
And almost tripped face first on the rug.

Hagrid caught him just before he could smash his admittedly 
generously proportioned nose on the floor, lifting the wizard easily 
and clasping him in his huge arms. Re-positioning their hands, 
Hagrid smiled. Snape nearly wet himself.

"Now we've got i'" Hagrid said, proceeding to move them about on the 
rug. Snape dangled from the giant's arms.

"I can't touch the bloody floor!" Snape complained, nose and mouth 
squashed up against Hagrid's chest. The odour of the man's coat was 
nearly overwhelming in itself.

"Ooh, sorry," Hagrid muttered, lowering Snape slightly and clutching 
him even harder against his chest. "Jes' lose yerself in the music," 
he advised, executing a swift turn that almost had the both of them 
falling on Fang, who barked in alarm and took off under the bed.

Half a song later and they were almost getting the hang of it. Snape 
had wriggled until he'd found a semi-comfortable position, his hands 
now locked behind Hagrid's broad shoulders, letting the giant move 
them about at will. He found himself almost drifting off as the 
tinny music wound around them, the rhythmical movement Hagrid 
followed lulling his inebriated mind in a surprisingly soothing 
fashion. 

His eyes snapped open again as he discerned a change. Hagrid was 
ever so slightly moving him up and down, large hands on Snape's waist 
forcing the gentle action. Snape blushed furiously as he was 
reminded why he was in the position he was in.

"Is it working yet?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Sshhh," soothed Hagrid, happily humming along as he swayed. "We're 
gettin' there."

Snape's head fell forward onto the giant's chest, much as it would 
against a brick wall, had he had one handy to bash against.

The interminable song kept playing, and Hagrid kept swaying, moving 
Snape vertically with slowly increasing intensity. Snape's horror 
grew in direct proportion to the mounting evidence of Hagrid's 
satisfaction.

"Mmm," murmured Hagrid. "Don' that feel nice?" he asked, rubbing one 
hand along Snape's back while the other kept him moving.

Snape found himself utterly unable to say anything at all. He closed 
his eyes again and just prayed the giant would reach a suitable level 
of excitement soon.

Hagrid's hand worked itself lower, massaging Snape's buttocks as he 
pulled the wizard even higher up his body and pulled him in tight. 
To his dismay, Snape found the new position even more sensitive and 
gulped in horrified fascination as the evidence of Hagrid's ancestry 
made itself felt. The enormousness of the appendage 
growing against him was stunning.

Snape's mind almost snapped when he belatedly realised that the 
effect was beginning to arouse him as well. It was damned near 
impossible not to be excited by Hagrid's oversized penis. The thing 
was almost an entity in itself, and was beginning to reach monstrous 
proportions. 

"Ooh, Snapey," crooned Hagrid, blissfully moving his massaging 
fingers into the crevice of Snape's arse.

"Oh God!" choked Snape, as his own cock swelled, apparently deciding 
that no amount of willpower could prevent the admittedly pleasant 
effects of all this rubbing.

Hagrid's hips started thrusting slowly, increasing the pressure along 
Snape's groin. They swayed and twirled slowly, Hagrid completely 
lost in the nirvana clutched within his arms. Snape's breathing 
deepened, catching as he hung desperately from Hagrid's shoulders.

"ooh, yeh, yer got such a nice bum," breathed Hagrid, pushing one 
enormous finger against the entrance, making Snape lose his breath 
altogether.

"Aah!...Aah!..Gaa.." he choked. Hagrid lifted Snape a little higher 
still, and nuzzled his bushy face into the wizard's neck. An 
enormous tongue swept along the skin, and Snape was suddenly boneless 
in the bigger man's arms.

Hagrid growled, and Snape, realising that Hagrid had manoeuvred them 
to the side of the room, found himself crushed between the wall and 
the giant, suspended still by the powerful arms.

More tongue licks, and Snape whimpered as his head moved to allow 
Hagrid deeper access. Hagrid's hips were pumping more urgently now, 
and Snape fought to untangle his legs from his robe. Finally freed, 
he wound them around the giant's waist, trying at last to move his 
own hips against the man's huge, bulging cock.

Hagrid's growls were getting fiercer and his thrusting more 
forceful. "Yer such a sexy bitch."

"Hag... Hagrid," Snape cried, desperately. "I'm getting...cru...cru... crushed!"

He yelped as Hagrid swung them both around without warning and took 
one enormous stride over to the bed. Dropped unceremoniously, Snape 
bounced without control, arms and legs flailing. Fang shot out from 
under the bed and took off like a startled rat, hurling himself into the depths 
of an enormous wardrobe. Snape's head was reeling, and he didn't see the 
giant bending to grasp his robe until it was already being torn from his body.

Holding the shredded remnants in his huge fists, Hagrid flung the 
pieces over his shoulder and stripped off quicker than Snape thought 
possible. It seemed incredible that such a large person could move 
so damn fast! Before he could focus his spinning eyes on Hagrid's 
naked body, he found himself with a groin full of beard, and his cock 
engulfed in the enormous wet cavern of Hagrid's mouth.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!" he yelled as Hagrid's tongue swept over him 
in great waves, covering all his nerve endings at once. There was no 
let-up from the warm, wet moving muscle as Hagrid licked him from 
root to tip and all the way back down past his balls, seemingly 
without effort, over and over again.

Snape clutched the bed cover, arms outstretched as his eyes stared 
unseeingly into the dim depths of the lofty ceiling. He'd never, 
ever in his entire life felt anything as intensely wild and wet as 
this. This defied anything he'd ever even imagined.

Hagrid's hands grabbed around Snape's knees, and pushed them up and 
apart. His tongue dived straight down to Snape's hole and he forced 
the slippery tip inside.

"Aaaaaarrrggghhhhhh!!!!!!" There was no thought possible for Snape 
any more. He was just a bundle of supercharged energy contained in a 
formless mass. He was barely aware as one of Hagrid's hands moved 
instead to his chest, fingers rubbing over and over his nipples. His 
mouth uttered strange, frantic sounds as Hagrid's tongue moved from 
side to side, and back and forth. The very size of it was mind 
blowing. It opened him completely, and 
Snape nearly blacked out when it managed to reach inside and stroke 
his prostate. 

"Oh! Gods! Merlin!" Snape cried when he could catch his 
breath. "More, oh God, MORE!"

He yelled again when Hagrid's tongue left his body, and the giant 
looked down at him with a shiny, deliriously frantic face. Hagrid 
picked him up and dropped him further up the bed, then prepared to 
move onto the bed himself.

Snape froze in conflicted horror. For the first time he could see 
the reality of the outrageously sized penis before him, and he 
whimpered in abject terror. His body was taking no notice of his 
gibbering mind however, and Snape simultaneously wanted to fall at 
the giant's feet in worship, and run screaming into the Forest.

"Wait! Wait!" he cried as Hagrid crawled onto the bed, straddling his 
slender, oh so tiny (incredibly vulnerable and unbelievably horny) 
body. 

Hagrid paused, hovering over Snape like a huge, hairy airship, his 
expression one of confusion and lust.

"Ah don' wanna wait, Snapey, I wanna 'ave yer now," he said 
plaintively.

"For Merlin's sake Hagrid, I'll be split in two! You'll KILL me!"

A desperate Hagrid creased his brow in thought, searching frantically 
for an answer. His face was split by a beaming smile as he picked up 
the wizard and turned them both around, holding the startled man 
above him. Snape balanced on the two outstretched arms, trying not 
to flap like an owl to the music from the radio still playing merrily 
away, and gaping at the expanse of hair and skin below him. It just 
went on, and on, and on, as far as the eyes could see...

He came back to himself as Hagrid suddenly settled him down and 
perched him just at the root of his enormous cock.

"Ah reckon yer could manage from 'ere, tho' couldn' yeh?" Hagrid 
asked, winking. His hand reached down and started stroking Snape's 
cock, apparently just in case it had been feeling neglected through 
all these aerial manoeuvres. 

Snape gazed at the appendage before him, gulping in drunken awe. His 
hands moved up of their own accord, and he wrapped them both around 
the shaft, fingers just meeting. Barely. 

"Oh my God, Hagrid, I don't think it can be done," he whispered as 
his traitorous body arched up into Hagrid's hand, which was still 
caressing him gently.

"Well, I've opened yeh up nice and loose, like. An' I got some 
greasy stuff 'ere... " Hagrid said, reaching one arm over to the 
table and grabbing a stoneware jar.

Snape opened the lid and sniffed cautiously. It didn't seem too 
toxic, whatever it was, and was certainly viscous enough. The smell 
was vaguely familiar.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Err, jes' a bit o' this an' that. Got some Flobberworm base in it, 
but i's cut with slippery elm t' make it perfoomed." 

Snape shuddered. It would have to do. He put his hand into the jar 
and scooped out a large portion. As it hit the skin of Hagrid's 
shaft, the giant yelped. "'Ere, yeh could warm it up a bit!"

"Oh, sorry," muttered Snape, bending his head and concentrating on 
his task. Two hands were swiftly brought into use, and he swirled 
them up and around and down, clearly to Hagrid's delight.

"Oh God, yeh, tha's it, yeh, Ooh, yeh, bit more of tha'," he said, 
head falling back. The enormous cock leapt to life again under 
Snape's elegant hands. He kept moving them, fascinated by the feel 
and the texture of this truly magnificent organ.

"Shit," muttered Snape. "How on earth am I going to manage this?" 
His cock chose that moment to jump, reminding him that a way had to 
be found. "What was that Relaxarse spell again? Dammit, never 
thought I'd need to use it. No, can't remember the bloody words. Oh 
this is hopeless."

Hagrid looked up at Snape as the despondent wizard hung his head (his 
hands still moving though), Snape's soft black hair falling over his 
downcast face.

"Now don't give up, Snapey," the giant encouraged. "Ah bet yeh know a 
spell o' two that can help us 'ere. Give it some more thought while 
yeh rubbin' away there." He dropped his head back onto the 
pillow and sighed contentedly.

"It's too big, it's just too big," muttered Snape. "Why couldn't you 
have been just a little bit smaller..."

He paused as a thought flashed into his head. "That's it!" he 
exclaimed. 

Hagrid looked up again, opening one eye. "Wha'?"

"Wand, where's my ruddy wand," said Snape, head twisting back over 
his shoulders as he searched frantically for the pathetic remains of 
his once elegant robes.

Hagrid snuck one arm under his pillow and shuffled it about.

"'Ere, yeh can use this," he said, drawing out his arm and waving an 
umbrella under Snape's nose.

Snape blinked. "Beggars can't be choosers," he said shrugging, and 
grabbed the rather tatty umbrella, turning it around to point the 
business end of it at Hagrid's cock.

"Reducio!" he intoned.

Hagrid flinched and his eyes opened wide as his penis started 
shrinking back into his body. He seemed to have a moment of absolute 
panic until he realised that the effect had stopped and about 
14 inches still remained.

"Whew!" said Hagrid. "Thought I was gonna lose the lot, then, I 
did." He peered at Snape suspiciously. "Yeh are gonna be able to put 
it back the way it was, tho' , inya?"

"Yes, naturally," Snape said, some of his usual hauteur returning to 
his voice. "The spell is only temporary. What do you think I am, a 
novice?"

"Naah," replied Hagrid, eyes twinkling again. "Ah reckon you've done 
this a time o' two," he said, throwing the wizard another wink.

Snape looked down at his handiwork. The thing was still enormous, 
and the girth hadn't reduced much at all. It now resembled one of 
the barrels of Butterbeer stored in the cellars of the Three 
Broomsticks. Still too daunting; another spell was obviously needed.

Racking his brain, Snape rapidly listed all the spells he could think 
of that could possibly be of assistance. Finally he settled on one.

"All right," he said. "I'll try one more."

"Ok," said Hagrid, bracing himself. "But if this don't work, I'm no' 
sure I could take any more changes."

"It'll work. ''Detumesco!'" Sparks flew out of the end of the wand, 
and Snape watched, amazed, as the circumference of the massive organ 
gradually decreased. The spell finally desisted as the penis 
reached the proportions matching the adjusted length.

"Oh, yes," smiled Snape, looking up happily into Hagrid's slightly 
stunned eyes. "This will do nicely."

Shuffling on his knees until he hovered directly over Hagrid's cock, 
he reached behind him and directed the massive head to his 
entrance. Snape drew a deep, deep breath, letting it out as he allowed himself 
to fall slowly back.

"Ooh, fuck, yeh," breathed Hagrid, reaching again for Snape's cock. 
The wizard found himself being worked over quite thoroughly, which 
was distracting him admirably from full awareness of the enormous, 
mind-blowing, unbelievable sensation of Hagrid's cock as it slid 
inexorably further and further into his channel.

"Guh... ," was all he could manage, as with head thrown back and 
body arched, he let gravity and Hagrid's home-made lube work their 
own magic.

"Tha's it, tha's it," Hagrid crooned, mouth hanging open and eyes 
slitted. "Oh, yer look so beautiful like this, tha's it, slide on me 
some more, jes' a bi' more now..." 

Hagrid kept up a quiet, running stream of encouragement, occasionally 
moving one hand up the wizards body to gently tweak a nipple, or 
stroke the extended neck where the tendons stood out in 
sharp relief with the strain.

"Tha's it baby, oh yer, tha's it," the giant whispered.

"Oh, God Hagrid," Snape all but sobbed. "Oh my God."

"I got yer. Jes relax, lemme do this, you'll be righ', shhhh." 

Snape did sob then, as he felt the giant's hips surge up gently, 
Hagrid's first soft thrust sending unbelievable spikes of pleasure 
ricocheting through his body.

"Aaarrgghhhhhhh," he wailed, and reached for the giant's hips. 
Rocking slowly, he backed himself even further on the pole breaching 
him, overwhelming him.

"Aw, Sev, so sweet," Hagrid whispered again, moving his hips in time 
to Snape's tiny movements.

A gentle rocking motion began, and Snape found his breath hitching, 
and tears sliding down his face from under tightly shut eyelids. 
Little by little, the motion increased, and his moans grew louder as 
his body blazed from within.

"Fuck me, Hagrid," he begged.

The large man groaned, and wiggled his way rapidly to the edge of the 
bed, letting his feet touch the floor. Gently cradled by two huge 
arms, Snape felt himself enfolded as Hagrid sat up. 

"You 'ang on, now, righ'?" Hagrid pleaded into his ear, lightly 
flicking his enormous tongue along Snape's neck.

Snape placed his two arms around Hagrid's neck, and opened his eyes. 
He didn't know what Hagrid saw, but the giant's eyes were damp and 
looking at him tenderly.

"'ang on," Hagrid repeated, then rose to his feet. Snape whimpered, 
then groaned harshly, loud and long, as his partner began to raise 
and lower him, impaling him repeatedly.

"Fuck me, fuck, me, fuck me," he heard, and dimly realised it was 
himself. The giant responded, burying his face against Snape's neck 
and thrusting faster and faster, pulling the wizards body against his 
own, rolling their hips into one another with eagerness.

Snape held on mindlessly as wave after wave of perfect sensation 
burst through him. Hagrid's furred belly massaged his cock, while 
fireworks, surely, exploded behind his eyes. His orgasm took him by 
surprise, and Snape screamed in pure, blissful agony while his body 
shuddered uncontrollably.

"Oh yer beautiful man," Hagrid cried, as arms continued to brace him 
against Hagrid's still pumping body.

Utterly limp, Snape remained skewered as he felt Hagrid lower him 
back down to the bed, and deftly turn him. His face pushed into the 
bed cover, he could only bite his lower lip and grunt as Hagrid 
raised his hips, and thrust in deep.

Snape passed out as the first splash of white-hot semen burst forth 
from Hagrid's swollen, throbbing penis. He came to, enfolded within 
warm, furry arms, Hagrid's beard softly scratching his shoulders as 
the giant moved his lips gently across his skin.

"Yer all righ', then?" Hagrid asked.

"Mm. Don't know," said Snape quietly. "Do I still need to walk, do 
you think?"

Hagrid chuckled into his neck, stroking the wizards hair away from 
his sweat-drenched face. "Naah," Hagrid answered. "I's overrated, 
walkin'."

Snape snorted, then groaned as a muscle cramp hit him. He felt 
himself turned to the other man, and saw a frown crease Hagrid's 
flushed forehead. "I should make a bath fer yeh, clean yer up and 
get yer muscles workin' again," Hagrid offered.

Snape gasped in sudden horror. "Hagrid! The potion!"

"Ooh, yeh, righ', 'old on a bit then," Hagrid said, and eased himself 
away from Snape and off the bed. A stride or two in either 
direction, and he returned, looming over the prostrate wizard with 
the jar in his hand.

Snape forced himself up on his elbows, and took stock of himself. 
With not a small measure of shock, he realised his legs were covered 
in thick, gooey semen, as his body fought and lost the battle to 
contain all the giant had poured into it.

"Should be enough there, don' yer think?" Hagrid asked, scooping the 
jar down to scrape gently along Snape's skin. The jar filled to 
capacity in two passes, leaving the wizard still fairly well coated.

"Don't let an owl in here, whatever you do, Hagrid," Snape 
advised. "I'd be tarred and feathered in no time at all."

Hagrid snickered as he put the lid carefully back on the jar, and
placed it on the bedside table. "No chance o' that, " he 
promised. "I'm not lettin' anythin' bad 'appen to yeh, in a hurry."

Snape watched nonplussed as the giant blushed and turned away to grab 
another clean cloth, wetting it down and returning to the bed. The 
large hands played gently over his body, removing the sweat and 
semen, rubbing a bit where it had started to crust around the edges.

Finally Hagrid rolled him over gently, pulled down the covers of the 
bed, and placed him under the sheet.

"Jus' rest up a bit while I get the bath goin'," he said, and walked 
away to get it all started.

When Snape awoke, he was half submerged in a gloriously hot tub of 
steaming, scented water, the giant's hands massaging his neck and 
shoulders with gentle pressure. A sigh of contentment rose up with 
the steam.

"Back with us, I see," Hagrid said.

"Mmm," murmured the wizard.

"A few bruises 'ere and there," Hagrid said softly. "Poppy should be 
able ter fix..."

"Hardly," Snape interrupted. He looked up and over his shoulder at 
Hagrid, who was kneeling next to the tub, looking somewhat guilty to 
Snape's eyes. "I rather think you're doing a good enough job on 
your own," he said, looking at Hagrid pointedly.

A blush stole over Hagrid's features, and he swallowed before 
answering, "If yer reckon, then."

"I do."

Snape turned back around, and Hagrid continued with his ministrations.

"Lean forward a bit," Hagrid requested.

Snape hugged his knees as Hagrid poured water over his head, then 
pulled the hair back from his face. He kept his head back as large 
fingers massaged his skull, and his nostrils twitched as he smelt 
Hagrid applying a cleansing lotion.

It had been years since anyone had touched him so intimately, and 
Snape swallowed hard. After all they'd been through tonight, it 
wasn't the sex that undid him, but the gentle kindness he felt in the 
other man's caress. He screwed his eyes shut tightly and 
concentrated on controlling his emotions as Hagrid completed his 
attentions.

Eventually clean and dry, having been lifted out of the tub by the 
gentle giant, Snape stood woozily by the fire. Hagrid was rummaging 
around in a drawer, and turned back to him with various garments 
clutched in his fists.

"I can't believe how unsteady I still am on my feet," he muttered, 
frowning.

"Aye, i's not just the, err, exercise," Hagrid said, sorting through 
the items he held and holding up a shirt against the wizard's 
body. "Yer had a fair bit o' me home brew, yer know."

Snape thinned his lips. If he wanted to, he could use this as an 
excuse to blame away his actions. If he wanted to, he could put all 
this behind him, and return to his solitary life. If he willed it, 
the giant would back off, he was sure, and leave him be from now on.

Snape continued to frown as he absent-mindedly donned the clothes 
Hagrid handed him, holding himself up by leaning a hand against 
Hagrid's shoulder as he stood on one foot to manage the pants.He 
stood lost in thought, not noticing as Hagrid tied the belt at his 
waist.

Hagrid stood back and watched him. "Yer look like a little kid in 
that get up," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, but not 
reaching his eyes.

Snape blinked, and looked down at himself, finally noticing the 
outfit he was wearing. He did indeed resemble something out of a 
Victorian pantomime, some poor abandoned orphan perhaps.

"I can't wear this!" he exclaimed.

"I'll cover yer with this old cloak, don' worry," said Hagrid, and 
proceeded to wrap the wizard completely in its folds. Turning to the 
bed, Hagrid pocketed the jar, then returned to the fire, and lifted 
the smaller man into his arms.

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape asked coldly, the hauteur 
returning to his voice as though it had never left.

Hagrid swallowed, and turned sad eyes to him. "Yeh can't walk all 
the way back tonight, yer not up to it, and I don't have a 
broom 'ere. Unless you'd rather stay the night?" he finished.

"No," said Snape, acidly.

"Didn' think so," Hagrid muttered, and walked out the door with Snape 
held securely in his arms.

Two days after being safely deposited at the door to his dungeon 
apartment, Severus emerged from his laboratory and sought an audience 
with the Headmaster.

"Well, well, I congratulate you," said Albus, inclining his head in 
respect. "I'll see that your potion is set to work immediately, 
Severus. It will be out in the field before the end of the month, I 
predict. Very good work indeed"

Snape's shoulders straightened, and he preened ever so slightly. He 
flicked his hair out of his face, vaguely noting in passing that it 
flashed a brilliant and sparkling black as the sunlight from the open 
window caught it. It really was quite glossy now.

"Not at all, Headmaster," he replied, not quite keeping a trace of 
smugness from his voice. It wasn't every day, after all, that his 
talents were sufficiently appreciated. Then he stiffened slightly, 
suddenly aware that Albus was staring at him with some small amount 
of amusement.

"Some tea, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, turning to a tray at his side.

"Thank you, yes," said Snape, watching as the tray suddenly filled 
with a steaming pot, two cups, and some wafer biscuits.

They tucked in, neither speaking as they went through the time 
honoured ritual of taking tea. Snape sat back in the comfortable 
armchair and brought the cup to his lips, blowing the steam gently 
before sipping.

Dumbledore stood and carried his tea over to the window, looking out 
over the grounds of Hogwarts. He seemed quite interested in 
something.

"What has caught your eye, Headmaster?" asked Snape, reaching for a 
wafer.

The wizard turned, and smiled gently. "Oh, just Hagrid. He's in the 
gardens, picking flowers, of all things."

Snape gave a little cough and looked down at his lap.

"I trust, then, you encountered no difficulty in the procurement of 
the final essence?" Albus asked, finally.

Snape shifted uncomfortably and blew harder on the surface of his 
tea. "None whatsoever, Headmaster," he stated shortly, not lifting 
his eyes to the other.

"Good," the old wizard said. "Very good indeed." He paused 
momentarily. "Hagrid cooperative, was he?"

A frown started its way across Snape's forehead, but he ignored it, 
concentrating as he was on the temperature of his tea. "Of course. 
Once I explained it to him, he saw that it was simply a matter of d-d-
duty."

"Ah yes, duty. A heavy burden sometimes. Still. No reason why one 
cannot also find a duty pleasant, sometimes, don't you think?"

Snape swallowed his mouthful of tea with some difficulty. Finally 
raising his eyes to meet those of the older wizard, he asked, "Has 
Hagrid discussed it?"

"Oh no, not really," replied Dumbledore, and Snape heaved a quiet 
sigh of relief. "Not really. Well, I simply thanked him for his 
efforts, of course," continued the old man.

"Oh!" Severus replied, somewhat weakly.

"Yes, and being Hagrid, of course he offered his services in whatever 
way you see fit in the future."

Chinaware tinkled as Snape's hand shook slightly, balancing the cup 
with whitened knuckles.

"I see. Well, that's generous of him. I think we have enough to go 
on with, however."

"Very well Severus. Very well."

In the following silence, Snape relaxed marginally, and returned his 
attentions to his cup. 

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Speaking of duties, Hagrid seemed to 
think you wouldn't mind, and I assured him you wouldn't. You'll both 
be leading the staff table in the first dance at this year's Yule 
Ball."

As tea exploded across the room, a small, gibbering part of Snape's 
mind tutted over the wreckage of another fine set of robes.
 
 
 
 
 

End.
Jan 2002