This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: This is a little ficlet written in honor of Must Love Quidditch reaching 1,000 reviews. Yowsers! You people are awesome! The most-requested extra scene so far in MLQ has been Harry's little, er, problem with Snape's voice, so that's what you get. Thanks to Kamerreon for beta-ing! Without further ado…

"Mr. Potter, are you trying to be an imbecile or is it just a natural proclivity?"

Harry's head ducked, his cheeks burning. Snape had been after him all class period, and it seemed like the snarky git had no intention of letting his slip with the rat-tail for the Hair Raising Potion they were brewing go by unnoticed.

"S-sir?" He stammered keeping his eyes locked on his bubbling cauldron. Merlin, if he had to look Snape in the eye he just might die. Or worse. Harry shuddered slightly and Hermione laid a hand over his, worried at his reaction.

"What did the instructions say about the rat-tail, Mr. Potter?"

Oh God, Harry thought, his legs shaking at the effort of holding himself upright. He could feel a trickle of sweat working its way down his back and he fought to keep his breathing even.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked, steeling himself as he looked up. He met the professor's eye as calmly as he could, praying the man wasn't planning to use Legilimency on him. "A fine dice, sir."

Snape snorted, reaching past Harry's arm to grab the offending item. Harry nearly fainted as the man leaned closer. He could feel Snape's breath on his cheek as he inspected the rat-tail.

"Does this look like a dice to you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes flitted to Harry's flushed face, worried she might upset him further. She shook her head slightly, biting her lip. "No, sir."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for mangling your ingredients," Snape hissed in Harry's ear, and the dark-haired boy couldn't hide his shiver at the words.

Snape whirled away, no doubt in search of someone else to humiliate. Harry waited until he was sure the man was out of earshot before allowing himself a quiet sigh of relief. He hadn't embarrassed himself too badly thank Merlin.

"Harry, what's going on with you?" Hermione whispered urgently, her gaze concerned as she studied her still flushed and frazzled friend.

Harry watched Snape stalk through the classroom warily. "Nothing, Hermione."

Harry broke away from the group as they left Potions, claiming he needed to find a Hufflepuff from their earlier Charms class because he'd accidentally taken her book. Hermione frowned at his mumbled excuse but didn't stop him from turning around and heading in the opposite direction.

Harry waited to see if anyone would follow him, his knees nearly buckling in relief when no one did. He ducked into a dusty alcove and dropped his bag on the floor, not even bothering to cast a Silencing Spell before ripping his robes off and fumbling with his zipper.

I can't keep doing this, he thought desperately, his fingers trembling as they closed around his achingly hard erection. The erection he'd had since the first moment Snape opened his mouth at the beginning of the Double Potions period more than two hours ago.

"Ahh," he groaned, biting his lip to try to keep silent as his hand flew up and down his length, trying his damndest to push all thoughts of Snape and his silky voice out of his head as he stroked himself.

It had been this way all year. Rationally, he knew he should hate the overgrown bat. And he did. But something about that voice just absolutely sent him over the edge, and this after-Potions wank had become almost a compulsion.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his hand moving faster over his cock. It had been such a struggle not to jump the man when he'd leaned over to criticize the rat-tail. Argh, Harry's mind screamed, what's wrong with me? I have to be the only person in the entire world who finds Severus Snape sexy!

Sweat beaded on his lip and forehead as he quickened his strokes, finally giving in and indulging in his memories of Snape. And oh, God, didn't that just make it ten times better?

"Oh, fuck," Harry whimpered, leaning heavily against the wall as he neared his release. His heart was racing, both with fear of getting caught and arousal. He was sure he'd come in his pants if Snape ever actually said anything nice to him, so it was fortunate the man hated him so passionately.

His hand was a blur as it flew over his engorged cock, his breath coming in pants as he felt his orgasm building in his belly. Images flew through his brain feverishly, fueling his fantasies. Snape bending over his desk, critiquing a potion. Snape yelling at him, his face flushed with anger, his wand pointed at Harry's roiling cauldron. The feel of Snape's lips as they almost brushed his ear, his satiny voice pitched dangerously low as he whispered threats and insults only Harry could make out.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Harry chanted, his eyes still tightly shut as he shivered at the memory. He was so close now. Just a few more seconds.

"Mr. Potter!"

At first, Harry thought his fantasy had just taken a different turn. He tried to reign in the thought of Snape yelling his name in anger, much preferring the previous memory of the Potions Master hissing vitriol in his ear, his lithe body close enough that Harry could feel the heat emanating from it.

"Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?"

That was new. Not that he hadn't heard Snape say that to him before, but it usually didn't make it into his fantasies. He felt himself beginning to crest nonetheless, biting his lip painfully as he fought to hold back his whimpers.


Harry's eyes flew open, his jaw dropping when he realized the voice hadn't been in his head at all. A very irate Potions Master stood in front of him, his face red with anger and embarrassment at having caught a student in such a compromising position. Harry was in no state to care, his eyes rolling back in his head as he came harder than he'd ever come in his life.

"Oh fuck, Severus!" He cried, his knees giving out as jets of hot come spurted into his hand.

Snape stayed silent until Harry's breathing leveled out, casting a wandless Cleaning Charm over the hem of his robes. He tapped his foot impatiently against the stone floor, his jaw clenched as he waited for the whelp to open his eyes – Merlin, those eyes – before speaking.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for such a disgusting display of public lewdness, Mr. Potter," he drawled, careful to keep his breathing steady. No reason to let the idiot know what an effect he'd had on him, after all. The boy clearly had some very inappropriate fantasies as it was.

Harry nodded, scared to open his mouth. Anything he could say would only make the situation worse. He scrambled to tuck himself back in, heedless of the cooling come that now pressed uncomfortably against his trousers. He straightened his robes, struggling to his feet. The flush of his orgasm had been replaced by a deep scarlet blush of embarrassment. Snape was sure the boy had no idea how thoroughly debauched or how utterly gorgeous he looked at the moment.

The professor turned on his heel, his robes fanning out impressively behind him as he stalked away. As he reached the end of the corridor, he turned, unsurprised to see the Gryffindor Golden Boy still frozen in the same spot.

"Twenty-five points to Gryffindor for living up to what's written about you on the bathroom walls, Potter," he smirked before disappearing from view.

Harry groaned again as he felt his spent cock stir at the suggestive words, letting his head fall back heavily against the wall. This had all been a dream right? A nightmare? He sighed heavily, picked up his bag from the floor, and headed off to his next class.