Type: Drabble or One-shot?
Pairing: Snarry Warnings: AU, ignores cannon book 5 and up and be doubly warned of my atrocious spelling and grammar Summary: After "An Evening Cupcake" Harry gets a taste of his own medicine when he finds out that our dear Potions Professor has a liking to Fondue.
It had been a week since Ron had pointed out to him that his obvious displays at eating had finally punctured the hard exterior of their acerbic Potions Professor. It wasn't as if he really wanted to, but more like he NEEDED to.
It more easily explained by the fact since the start of his seventh year, he'd had inexplicable dreams and urges all geared towards one sallow-skinned, greasy haired git of a man.
For the first few days, he had blamed it on something he must've eaten and since they didn't stop, he'd followed that up with study habits, stress and just about anything he could have thought of for an excuse.
A month had passed with no luck with either his dreams or his seemingly rabid urges. It also hadn't helped the entire problem when he'd finally noticed that Snape had a somewhat unhealthy habit of looking at him, nay, he possibly stared at him. Harry had thought at first that his Professor was simply looking out for him, after all the man had saved him more than once in all the years he'd gone to school here in Hogwarts.
This, he'd dismissed quite easily until that point in time where he saw his Professor staring at him overlong while he'd mouthed an extraordinarily large specimen of a banana or the fact that Snape just about loved hovering over him during Potions Class.
The whole thing only served to further aggravate his problem and there was not a night that passed where his sheets were saved from "soiling" of the teenage kind.
So, to rule out odd hormonal imaginings, he'd finally decided to see if his Professor stared at him for other reasons than those of the protective or guardian kind.
He'd concluded, after a few days of lip chewing brain-storming wherein both his best friends had stared at him as if he's just gone bonkers…anyway, he'd finally concluded on initiating the ritual of the "Cupcake" to which Ron had nicknamed "The Evening Cupcake" seeing as the only time they served the thing was during dinner.
It had really been nerve-wracking and he'd shook the first time he'd done it though he really did love eating cupcakes. He didn't notice anything peculiar the first time he'd done it. Not that he would've anyway, he was just too damn nervous and concentrated on his task that he didn't really have time to look if he'd gotten any effect from their acid mouthed Professor.
The fifth day and coincidentally the last day he'd been planning on doing the ritual Harry had finally gotten results. Even his usually thick headed friend, Ron noticed though Hermione still seemed a little clueless of it all, but Harry wouldn't bet on the fact that she knew nothing. The girl had a habit of sitting on information until she knew and proved all the bases first.
So, the great savior of the Wizarding World had launched thereafter the epic quest into the seduction of one Severus Sebastian Snape.
The first step, which Harry considered had been the Cupcake Fiasco, had proven to be a success. The Popsicle which he deemed the second step hadn't done too well even though he'd thought its prospect of success was fairly high. He'd of course tried a few other foodstuffs well known to contribute to seduction skills one being chocolate and the other being whipped cream. Both met with rather blasé results, being that Snape had no reactions. Then again, Snape was known for being rather stubborn.
He'd been so focused on the next step of his Epic Quest that his attention had remarkably waned in his subjects. The other teachers just thought to give him a break from the impending end of the year exams, hadn't commented on his inattention in class. Snape, being the sole entity that didn't follow any rules concerning the Boy-Who-Lived, picked on the fact with astounding vigor.
"MR. POTTER, TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" The bass voice rang throughout the entire dungeon's based class with a resonating snap that only sent tingles of questionable feelings down Harry's spine rather than the obvious fear it was meant to inspire. "How many times must I repeat that Trachypleus (Horseshoe Crab if you guys are wondering...) blood must be drawn carefully rather than sucked forcefully!"
The man impressively drew down from his platform over the class towards Harry, his robes of black swirling gracefully behind him much like one of those evil villains from the telly.
Harry shrunk away from his twitching crab, fingers wet with the blue of its blood. "Ah, I thought I was doing it right?" He asked, blinking innocently.
Honestly, he thought to himself, how were you supposed to know you were sucking instead of drawing? Aren't they even the same word?
Snape, reached out purposeful fingers and slid them over his rather lengthy needle and raised them in front of Harry's terrified face. The man still got to him even though he was in seventh year already.
"You see this Mr. Potter?" Snape pointed out, his rather noble nose flaring. "It has a bore at the end which is shaped to be inserted between the Trachypleus' jointed plates at the top of its neck." He pointed to a spot just behind what Harry could imagine was the neck, but seeing as this was a crab and it obviously didn't have a "neck" like normal people. Harry wisely just kept his mouth shut.
Methodically, Snape proceeded to insert the long gleaming needle between two large plates on the back of the horseshoe crab which at this point seemed docile enough. It was quite unlike the crab Harry had jabbed into, it being flailing like a stroke victim. He then began to pull back ever so slowly on the plunger attached to the needle, the implement looking much like a very large hypodermic needle used in hospitals for injections. Blue blood then slowly began to fill the space on the body of the needle. The Horseshoe crab still lying happily docile under the Potion Professor's expert hands.
"You see Mr. Potter, if you were actually smart enough to draw into the cavity properly, we wouldn't have an expired Trachypleus specimen." The Potions Professor drawled out sarcastically as he waved a hand over the now still crab which belonged to Harry.
The man's intense ebony eyes then roved around the classroom as he sneered at what he probably thought were the incompetents of mankind. "Get back to work you lackluster nitwits!" He barked, which made everyone return their attentions to their twitching crabs.
"And you Mr. Potter!" He hissed, eyes boring right into emerald. "Shall receive a detention with me tonight at eight." He then narrowed the intense ebony gaze. "Be punctual or I'll assure you'll regret it." He whispered almost into Harry's ear before turning around in yet another impressive swirl of coal black robes.
Harry stood there rather dumbly shivering as he watched the retreating back in front of him. He was unsure whether to be frightened or deliciously excited. His hormones though were feeling the latter and his more experienced mind the former.
Night it seemed wouldn't come fast enough for the Wizarding World's Golden Child. Harry spent most of the day flitting through one subject and to another in a haze. Hermione had noticed but hadn't commented on his behavior. Probably concluded that she needed more information before hypothesizing as to what was the cause of aforementioned odd behavior. Unlike the frizz haired girl, Ron had no such inhibitions.
"Ey mate, what's wrong?" He asked when they'd finally settled down into dinner. "You've been rather spaced out for the day. Anything happened?" He then poked Harry on the shoulder..." Is it because the Greasy Git's assigned you another detention izzit?"
Harry shook his head no and sighed. "Not really Ron, I guess that..." He trailed off and mind racing thought of an excuse, " I guess its just the end of the year exams that's been bugging me. I'm kinda worried if I'll fail anything and not be able to get into Auror training." He reasoned out. It was a rather pathetic excuse when he was in all things acting the exact opposite of what he'd just said.
"So you better study harder Harry." Hermione finally spoke, "You know, just to be sure that you won't fail anything." She'd finally matured enough to know that haggling two boys into really studying was an act of shear futility.
"I guess 'Mion's right Harry." Ron shrugged, and bit into a slice of roast beef." You should just study more if you're not sure...probably make up some low grades on the final exams or something..."
"Mmm...Yeah..." Harry mumbled only half listening as his thoughts and stomach churningabout his impending detention.
Then, it finally came, the moment of truth.
"Um guys," Harry spoke, "I better be going, Snape's detention and all." He nodded to both his friends in goodbye before leaving.
"Good luck Harry!" Ron called out, "Just hope Snape won't do anything nasty to you!"
The door was really impressive, although it probably wouldn't match the ones at the Great Hall, it was still pretty daunting on its own. Made of ebony, varnished till it gleamed like an onyx and decorated with various hissing snake carvings it often gave off a sinister air. It was also probably warded by its occupant and oozed an aura of looming darkness that had probably scared many a first year into tears.
It was this door upon which Harry Potter knocked and to which Snape answered in a velvety tone, "Come in Mr. Potter."
The Boy-Who-Lived entered into Snape's domain both with anticipation and dread singing through his blood. Although what he saw as he entered froze him on the spot.
Snape was eating Fondue and not any ordinary Fondue, but chocolate Fondue with strawberries while marking his student papers.
There was nothing that shattered your impression of something as overall powerful or rather, beyond your reach than something as humanizing as eating a snack. Although, Harry surmised, Fondue wasn't like any other common snack.
Snape looked at Harry who was obviously staring at the Potions Master with a flabbergasted expression and raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for Mister Potter?" He asked sardonically. "A magical parade of words appearing out of nowhere telling you what to do?"
Harry snapping out of his reverie shook his head no. "Er no Sir..."
"Haven't we done this often enough that I need no longer to tell you what to do..." Snape asked, staring at Harry. The hard black obsidians that were the Professor's eyes piercing straight into Harry's metaphysical being.
"Uhm...no sir?" He guessed, after all one can never be too sure of what Snape wanted.
"Very well," He drawled out and waved with a half eaten chocolate covered strawberry to a corner of the room where a pile of dirty cauldrons were waiting. "Seeing as I have overestimated your meager intellect in even such a menial task as remembering the assignations I have previously assigned to you, I must put it upon myself to once again, jolt your rather deficient brain."
"Uh...yes sir." Harry answered absently, as he was now staring at the juicy strawberry held poised just above him in the delicate hold of the Potion Master's gracefully long fingered hands.
The Potions Master's eyebrows drew together, "Now Mr. Potter!" He barked out.
"Yes!" The Boy-Who-Lived exclaimed, before quickly scuttling over to scrub the dirt ridden boiling implements. Snape returned to his marking and Fondue snacking with a wary shake of his head.
The whole problem with the Fondue didn't really start becoming a problem until about Harry was a tenth into his task of scrubbing cauldrons.
At first, he'd been too embarassed of his actions when he'd entered into his detention that he'd focused his ire and previous feelings of humiliation into the task of scrubbing rather hard at aforementioned cauldrons but once the feelings that distracted him had cooled down properly, did his mind remind him of the fact that Snape, Greasy Evil Sallow Skinned Hooked Nose Git, was eating Chocolate Fondue.
His thought processes petered out rather quickly after that.
Snape had a large bowl full of strawberries. It was obvious enough that the Potions Professor had a great love for the red hued fruits. Beside them, sat a rather unassuming black colored ceramic bowl, over a small enchanted flame. Harry couldn't really see if the Fondue pot sat on top of a metallic holder or if Snape had enchanted the pot to hover over the flame.
Inside the ceramic pot was melted dark chocolate and the smell of both strawberry and dark chocolate on the air was heavy. It didn't help Harry at all with the battle, agianst his own hormone driven body, that both were often known as aphrodisiacs.
Snape, with his graceful long fingered hands, would reach into the bowl of fresh glistening strawberries and pluck out one promising specimen. Focusing his whole attention on it, he'd then pluck out anything he thought unsavory from the fruit. A bit of leaf, a rather odd looking part or just a speckle of water.
After which, he then dip the fruit into the ceramic pot and load it with a dark gleaming coat of melted chocolate. He'd swirl the fruit around for awhile, making a thorough coating of chocolate over the entire thing. Even in food, Harry mused absently, he was as focused as he was in potions.
Finally deciding that the coat was even enough in all sides, he'd raise the liberally coated fruit into his mouth. Sometimes the fruit would hold some as of yet unhardened chocolate which would then drip unto Snape lips, his pink tongue darting out to lick the drop rather enticingly.
Harry, still in the process of scrubbing, found his pants rather tight.
The Potions Master would then suck on the outer coating of chocolate distractedly as he marked papers. Other times, he would take a strawberry still gleaming from inside his mouth and nibble on it. Any juice that would escape, either down his hands or beside his mouth would promptly be sensuosly licked away.
There were also times where the Potions' Master would simply swirl the chocolate covered fruit all over his lips, as if caressing the blushing flesh into arousal. Maybe Snape was just a Hedonist, one for the simple pleasures of life.
Harry gulped, and almost dropped a cauldron.
There was even a time where Snape had taken a just chocolate covered strawberry in and out his mouth, like he was fucking the fruit. He'd suck on it a little, nibble, and then swirl his tongue around it. All this, he did often while he concentrated on marking his papers oh so innocently.
Harry found it so distracting that he'd even scrubbed the sink accidentally instead of the cauldron.
Then something happened that proved even more distracting than sucking on strawberries and that was Snape sucking on his finger. It was bound to happen after all when one came in contact with anything liquid that had any modicum of stickiness.
The chocolate from an earlier strawberry had dripped down on Snape long pointing finger and down almost to his wrist. The dark-haired man had ignored it as he concentrated on sucking the strawberry into his mouth and no doubt murdering the paper underneath his hand with as much heart crushing insults as he could.
Haryy had wondered whether the man would just leave the chocolate there or wipe it with a cloth. At this time, the Gryffindor was also superstitiously arranging his straining pants into a more comfortable position.
Snape had finally finished both the fruit and the paper when he'd notice the dark trail of chocolate on one hand. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, probably thinking on what to do about it before bending down his head to his wrist and proceeding the lick the chocolate all the way up to its origin which was the tip of his pointing finger.
Haryy gulped again and controlled the rather stubborn urge to pant.
The trail was thin at the wrist and continued to widen as it reached the pinnacle of its origin. The pointing finger almost as liberally coated with dark chocolate as the strawberry eaten earlier. Snape would lap at certain parts of his hand where the dark chocolate had hardened and formed a more considerately larger lump.
When he'd finally reached the finger, Harry was just about ready to come into his pants. Snape had then taken the entire digit into his mouth and proceeded to suck on it. In and out. Tongue darting out to swirl and catch any chocolate flaking off. Then back in. Suck and lick. Nibble on any hardy chocolate lumps.
Harry bit his lower lip and almost squeezed the existence out of his cleaning sponge as he came hard into his pants.
Giving his now clean finger one last lick, Snape turned his attention to a flushed Harry Potter with one leg wet with cleaning solution which he'd squeezed out of the sponge earlier.
"I would have expected for you to have at least cleaned three cauldrons Mister Potter." The Potion's Professor spoke, voice low and velvety. "And I see only one partially scrubbed cauldron in front of you." He concluded.
Harry blinked and stared at the innocently placed cauldron in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in his stained trousers.
"I am also very much disappointed in the fact that not only have you not scrubbed even one entire cauldron but you've also gone so far as getting the floor and yourself wet with the cleaning solution that I have supplied you with." He explained. "I am now rather doubtful of the merit of detentions compared to old school flogging." Snape pierced through Harry with a hard look. "Would you prefer to be flogged Mr. Potter?" He asked as Harry gulped again and closed his legs over his yet again, tenting trousers." Would flogging actually be able to get anything into that dense cranium of yours?" The Potion's Master snorted and shook his head. "Never mind...Albus would kill me if I actually decided to flog his Gryffindor Golden Boy." The man mumbled to himself before redirecting his gaze to a fidgeting Harry Potter.
"Since it seems this Detention has proven more of a futility than actual punishment I have decided in just taking a liberal amount of points from your house in recompense and Mister Potter, you may go." He then waved a dismissive hand towards the door.
It didn't take a second to make Harry scramble rather pathetically right out into the school corridor. So fast did he flee that if he'd have stayed a minute longer he would've heard something he'd no doubt have liked.
"Did you enjoy having had a taste of your own medicine Harry?" The Potions Professor seductively purred before biting the tip of one rather large and juicy red strawberry.
Please leave reviews for the desperate author.
Who has a somewhat sequel to this in writing.
I'm just wondering if people like this series enough.
For me to continue it? Oo