Title: He Saw, He Came, He Conquered: A Romantically Smutty Tragedy in Three Parts.

Authors: Almaxaquotal, Tripperfunster & Cannonfodder

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: HP/SS

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter world. We are just borrowing them temporarily.

Feedback: Almaxaquotal: luciusj@optusnet.com.au

Tripperfunster: tripper@pettraders.com

CanonFodder: canonfodder123@hotmail.com

Beta: With many thanks to our beta Nzomniac for her *very* much appreciated help in getting it done! Thank you!!! :D

Archive: For the ‘From Dusk till Dawn' Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at:

http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm

Challenge: History

Summary: A Snarry Trilogy. Romance, Smut & Tragedy set in Ancient Greece and Rome with accompanying artwork and based (loosely!) on the lives of the Roman Emperor Hadrian and his boy-lover Antinous.

Part I : Romance

(or: How It All Began)

By Almaxaquotal

The Emperor Voldemort raised his hand. It was his signal to the small group of elite soldiers and advisers that it was time to stop. The band was traveling together back to Rome after a successful military campaign through Greece.

"Halt, men!" called Voldemort's chief adviser, Senator Lucius, reining in his black steed. He gestured to the small town before them. "We shall rest here tonight. Soldiers, set up camp."

All but three men dismounted, and proceeded to put together a make-shift camp for their night's rest. Those remaining on their horses were Lucius, the Emperor himself, and the Emperor's personal Apothecary, the Potions master Severus.

“Shall we proceed into town, Master?" Severus inquired in his deep, smooth voice. "I require supplies. One of the men had a riding accident today. I don't have a sufficient supply of herbs to properly dress his wound."

"To buggery with the soldiers!" Lucius drawled in his usual bawdy fashion, "I'm going in search of wenches!"

"As one would expect," Snape bit back with a look of pure loathing, adding under his breath, "Filth."

"What was that?" Lucius asked with an arched brow. "Oh of course, you would disapprove, Severus. You will be in search of a ripe young boy, I expect?"

"Enough, you two," rasped the Emperor, cutting them off instantly. It was not unusual for his companions to quarrel so. "We will proceed to town. Severus, you may go in search of the materials you require. Lucius, you may go in search of the pleasures you so desire. I have my own business to attend to."

They continued forward in silence, Lucius and Severus shooting each other frequent scowls when Voldemort wasn't looking. Once through the town gates, they went their separate ways. They had passed through this particular town before and Severus knew a friendly old Apothecary who would be able to supply him with the necessary goods.

Although the sun was beginning to set, Severus found the gates of the Apothecary open and Albus in the front tending to his herb garden. He noticed a marked change in the man since they had last met - he looked older, shabbier, his once well-kept grey beard now long, and white. He was correct to assume the man had fallen victim to hard times.

"Albus, old friend," Severus called, swinging off his horse, "I'm glad to see you are still here."

"Why, Severus," the older man replied, squinting across the yard. "It has been some years, young Master. Am I to assume the Emperor is passing through this way?"

"Yes, I am accompanying him and some of our soldiers back to Rome. Which is what brings me to you. We have several wounded and I am low on supplies... I was hoping..."

"Say no more," Albus smiled, "Come, show me what you require, and we will catch up on news. I am sad to say that I have lost my good wife since last we met."

They continued talking as they wandered around the garden, and inside the Apothecary's shop, also home to him and his eight sons.

"That must be a terrible loss," Severus consoled.

"Indeed, indeed, and you have most likely noticed that this place is looking a little run down. And so am I. My wife was also quite skilled with medicines - she helped with difficult childbirths, women's problems and such. She brought in much-needed income and without a daughter to take her place, well..."

"What of your sons?" Severus inquired with keen interest. He remembered them as being handsome boys, all intelligent and well-educated.

"My two eldest are here, working with me - they will take over when I'm gone. The next three were lucky to be taken on as apprentices in town - they are doing well, one is a married man now. The youngest three, well that is my concern. They are but twelve, thirteen and fifteen. Still in school. Providing is becoming hard, and I will not see them working yet."

Severus was silent for a moment. He was pondering something that had been on his mind recently. An apprentice - an heir - to teach his secrets to, and to raise as a son. Severus never intended on marrying, therefore knew he would not father a child by conventional means. He wondered the best way to raise to a desperate man the possibility of selling his youngest child...

"Your youngest," Severus asked finally, "His name?"

"Heires," Albus replied, "Ahh, my Heires, how he worries me, more than my other seven combined."

"Why is that?" Severus asked. He doubted he had seen the youngest son before - he would have been quite young last time he was in this part of Greece.

"He has always been a little different - he has an odd lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. It seems to cause him pain. Always worried his mother."

"Is he here?" Severus inquired, hoping not to sound overeager.

"Yes, he is," Albus replied, "Why? Would you like to see his scar? Have you heard of anything like it?"

"No, I mean, not the scar in particular. Albus, may I be direct with you?"

"Why, of course," Albus replied, putting down the bag of herbs he was filling, "Whatever is on your mind, speak it, Master Severus."

"I must start by saying, that I mean you no offense," Severus began genuinely, "But, I feel we may be able to come to an arrangement that is mutually beneficial to all parties involved. You see, Albus, I have been on the lookout for a boy, an eromenos who would also be an apprentice and more importantly, an heir. Do you see where I'm going?"

"I see," Albus replied. "You would... take him to Rome?"

"Yes," Severus nodded, "He would live with me, within the palace. He would learn my craft and serve me faithfully until he is of age - and he would work with me as my equal when he becomes too old to…."

"Should I call him in?" Albus asked.

"Then-"

"First," Albus interrupted, holding up his hand, "You must meet him. I must be sure before any decision is made."

Severus gestured his acceptance and Albus called his youngest son's name. Severus's heart raced as he heard footsteps at the door which separated the Apothecary's workplace from his home. Heires appeared in the doorway, and Severus' breath was taken away. The young boy was truly a gift - with untamed shaggy dark hair, not quite curly, not quite straight, and green eyes the likes of which the man had never seen.

"Yes, Father?" the boy asked in a soft, pleasant tone. Severus studied his lips, soft, round, slightly moist...

"Heires," Albus smiled, "I would like you to meet an old acquaintance of mine, Severus. He is Apothecary to the Emperor of Rome. Quite an honour."

"The Emperor?" Heires asked with wide-eyed awe. "What is it like, in Rome?"

"Ah, Rome..." Severus smiled slowly, savouring the young boy's polite but curious manner, "Rome is not just a city, Heires - Rome is a mother - the mother of the civilized world, and she has a soul of her own."

"Oh, I should so like to go there," Heires breathed, staring with awe at the intense, man before him. "But I don't imagine I ever shall."

"Heires," Albus interrupted, a sad smile spreading across his wizened face. "That is enough. Go back to the house now, my boy."

"Did I say something wrong?" Heires replied, looking from his father to Severus.

"Quite the opposite," Albus sighed, "Leave us alone now. We will come in soon for a drink, and then you can question Master Severus about Rome until you are blue in the face."

"Thank you, Father!" Heires grinned, tilting his head slightly so a curl fell away from his forehead, exposing the scar that was indeed the perfect shape of a lightning bolt. Severus was enchanted.

"I ask but one thing of you, Severus, if you are to take from me one of the lights of my life," Albus murmured, his piercing blue eyes meeting the dark pools of his companion.

"You may ask anything," Severus replied, placing a hand on the old man's shoulder.

"I only ask that you will love him. Care for him, nurture him, and give him everything it is in your power to give. Then I will be able to sleep at night."

"That," Severus answered, a vision of Heires' young perfection flashing behind his eyes, "Is something I can promise you without apprehension. Heires will be the most cherished boy in all of Rome."

Part II : Smut

(or: The Good Bits)

By Tripperfunster

Over the years, Heires breadth grew both as a man and a lover. The skills and dexterity required as an apothecary's apprentice served him and his master well in the common bed they shared. Severus, for his part, although harsh and cruel at first, became so enamored with his beautiful young charge that he found a well of patience and love inside of him that had as of yet been unplumbed.

Their lovemaking had at first been tense and awkward, Severus forcing his will upon the boy. As they came to know each other, Heires' desire to please his master softened Severus' will and his hard grip became soft caresses, his harsh mouth delicate kisses.

By the time of the approach of his 18 th birthday, they were rarely out of each other's company and could hardly pass by without an affectionate touch. It weighed heavily on both their hearts and minds that, as was the custom, Heires would soon have to take leave of Severus' house and his bed. He was too old to serve as the Apothecary's eromenos , it was time for him to make his own way in the world and claim a young lover of his own. Heires could see no life for himself that did not include his Severus.

On the eve of his departure, they spent a quiet evening together. The sunset was a spectacular show of pink and aubergine as the two shared the display with silence and red wine. When the last ray of light retreated beyond the horizon, Severus took his young lover by the hand and led him gently to the bedroom.

They took their time and, although they had already committed the landscape of each other's body to memory, they explored each plane anew, pretending it was for the first time instead of the last.

And when Heires reached what was to be his final climax, he cried out both with the release of his passion and the pain of the loss he was about to endure. His body trembled as he spilled his seed on the belly of his lover while Severus held him close and let his tears fall unnoticed in the salty crook of his lover's neck, to be swept away by the untidy hair that fell to his sun kissed shoulders.

When his own climax approached, he searched out the boys' mouth with his own, devouring him with hungry kisses, yearning to possess him completely and for eternity. The morning would arrive all too soon and he was determined to savour the joys that each moment would bring.

He strained against the boy and Heires whispered his encouragement, his sweet breath warming Severus' ear. He could control himself no longer, the boy's muscles milking him of his seed. And yet, he held back a moment more, not wanting to set the beginning of the end in motion.

“Severus,” Heires cried out, almost pleading, “Severus.”

He answered with his hips, bucking hard into the firm flesh, and then he too cried out, both with desire and sorrow. “Heires,” he sobbed, tasting the boy's neck, “my beautiful Heires.”

They lay that way for some time, chests touching, arms entwined, until the cool evening breeze wicked away the sweat from their bodies. Severus watched the boy until he succumbed to slumber, dark eyelashes spread across his cheeks, plump lips parted in sleep. He was determined to watch over him all night, but alas, exhaustion overtook him and he too surrendered to it, his head resting on his lover's chest.

Neither man heard the hoof beats outside or the quiet sound of a sword being unsheathed…

Part III : Tragedy

(or: All Good Things Must End)

By Canonfodder

The glint of firelight reflected in steel danced in front of his eyes. He stared at it without comprehension for a moment, disoriented. Metal? Oh gods... metal!!! In a second his muscles tightened and his mind cleared as he focused on the blade of the sword being held to his throat.

"My, my, Severus…" came a familiar upper-class hiss. Severus spared a worried glance at the boy sleeping soundly beside him before following the length of the sword to look into the cold, grey eyes of Lucius.

"Uh uh...don't speak," Lucius held a hand up. "I have no wish to hear from that filthy mouth of yours." With this he looked pointedly, and with considerable distaste, at the sleeping boy. "All you need know is that tonight… you die." He sneered. "The Emperor has had more than enough from you, as you well know. You're not fit for him to wipe his feet on. Traitor."

He was a traitor. Six years previously, doubt had crept into his mind. A beautiful twelve year old boy, perched in front of him on his horse, had prattled on about his life of poverty and hardship as they rode. The words had stayed with him and it was with a new awareness that Severus had looked about him, as they rode through the streets of Rome on their return from Greece. He saw men, women and children cringing in fear at the sight of the Emperor Voldemort. Poverty and disease confronted him at every corner. He didn't act immediately, but looking into the innocent green eyes of his new charge, he was no longer sure he could support the Emperor's cause. The breaking point came months later when a young girl was dragged to his rooms by a sneering Lucius and thrown in front of him. "Heal her if you can, and I'll use her again," he threw over his shoulder as he left. The girl died in less than two hours from her horrific injuries. Later that night, Severus declared his disapproval of the Emperor by returning the girl's body to her parents and making restitution as best he could with gold. It was almost as good as walking up to the Emperor and spitting in his face.

For two years he continued, by day the Emperor's loyal Apothecary, while by night he sent Heires into the streets to practice his trade on the poor. He didn't fool himself that the Emperor was unaware, and his fears were realised when the Emperor laid a hand on his shoulder one sunny day, and declared to Rome that Severus was his heir. It wasn't the honour most thought it to be. In the evil, twisted mind of the Emperor, it was the perfect way to destroy the man whose power amongst the citizens of Rome was growing, but whose allegiance to the Emperor's regime was all but gone. From the moment the words left his mouth, the Emperor had known that there would be many willing to kill his personal Apothecary, and all without so much as a stain of blood falling on the Emperor's own robes.

For the first year, Severus had employed constant vigilance, but as time went on the threat became only a black shadow at the back of his mind. Although it frequently distracted him with bouts of melancholy, the happiness and unexpected pleasures of a new and intense love, and the delight of teaching his young apprentice and watching him grow into a man, had let him forget for weeks at a time. But the threat was real, and death inevitable, however long it took to catch up with him. Severus knew now that his time was up and it came to him, as he lay there, that his only real regret was for Heires; that his love should be there to see him die. One more day, only one, and the boy would have been safely out of the way, starting a new life.

Lucius lowered the tip of his sword to Severus' chest. All he need do was lean heavily and it would pierce through to his heart. Severus stared into his eyes seeing hate, ambition and blood lust; there would be no mercy. Suddenly, the boy sprang with the agility of youth and fear to grasp and pull the sword away from his master's chest. The blood poured from his hands as he clung to the sharp blade. Surprised, Lucius stumbled forward. It was all Severus needed. He reached for the dagger he always kept beneath the wooden frame of the bed and plunged it upward into the man above him. Lucius fell at once, landing heavily and knocking the breath from Severus' lungs. He lay there, heart pounding.

"Heires," he whispered. "Stupid boy. You could have been killed."

He expected the familiar, "You're such an old woman Severus!" But there was no laugh or teasing comment returned. Trying to push Lucius away, he met unexpected resistance and eventually slid out from underneath him to the floor instead. Shaking, he stood.

"Heires?"

It was too late. The sword meant for him had been pulled too close by the boy and the dying weight of Lucius had pushed it straight through his heart.

The old servant, Filcus, woke the next morning to sunshine streaming through the door. He pottered about lighting cooking fires and warming the water for tea. It was when he went to wake the master that he found them, Heires cradled gently in Severus' arms, a lifetime of grief etched in the older man's face. It was a long time before his master could be persuaded to let go.

The End.