A/N: It has been brought to my attention that I was extremely irresponsible when I posted this without a warning, and I agree. So, please allow me to correct that now (though it may be months too late).
*Warning: This story contains implied dubious consent, in that verbal consent isn't given before the aggressor initiates sexual contact, but it is established later that the submissive partner was, indeed, consenting. This story also contains a sexual relationship between a teacher, and an underage student. I do not condone this type of behavior in the real world.
I am not sure how it came to be that I'm sitting in my dark, cold office writing my resignation letter. I mean, I know the events that led me to this point, obviously. I'm just not sure why. I've always been so controlled, even in my anger, I'm able to keep my senses about me. Even with him I've been able to reign in the absolute repulsion I've been exposed to every time I'm forced to endure his presence. Until recently that is.
Harry Potter - bane of my existence. He was always watching me, with her eyes that look so out of place in his face.
He was an addiction for me and she was the love of my life. I had needed her and craved him. She was so beautiful, caring, and perfect. He was so sexy, cunning, and confident. Neither of them had paid much mind to a pale, lanky recluse like myself. Of course, once they met each other, they never had eyes for anyone else. Even though I'd never really had a chance with either of them, I blamed each one for the other's disinterest.
Then they just had to spawn and produce the perfect reminder of what I could never have, what I had never been worthy of. The day that boy joined the ranks of imbecilic pupils at Hogwarts I was thrust into my own personal hell.
Now, I've ruined it all. Everything I've worked for, everything I've sacrificed my whole bloody life for, and it's over. Lily's eyes, James' face, and Harry's body. It all started with detention.
I knew exactly who was gently knocking on my office door, after all I'd only assigned one detention that day.
"Come in if you must, Mister Potter," Why I was giving him the illusion of having an option I didn't know.
The door creaked as he entered the room. There was a defiant but otherwise curious look in his eyes as he stepped up to my desk and waited patiently for instruction.
"Tonight you will be scrubbing floors. There is a bucket and a sponge on the left shelf as you enter the storeroom. You'll find some cleaning potions on the shelf directly under it. A few drops in a bucket of water should suffice," I dismissed him to prepare his supplies with a wave of my hand and pretended to become engrossed in the work laid out in front of me.
My mind, however, was rolling around that something that his eyes had projected to me. It was something I'd seen there before, mostly when I was invading his personal space while slinging about one well placed insult or another. Every single time it had succeeded in catching my attention yet it still alluded me.
Upon hearing him reenter the room, bucket in tow and sponge in hand, I abandoned my inner musings. I would need full mental capacity in order to maintain focus on my marking and watch for signs that Potter would need further scolding.
He was squatting in the corner of the room, scrubbing away at the years of grime on the floor. I knew the position couldn't be comfortable, but I figured he'd either give up any sense of decorum and get on his hands and knees, or suffer the consequences. Only a few moments after I had this thought he was slinging the sponge into the bucket and standing.
I will admit that I was gleeful at the idea that he might challenge the task I'd set before him. I was waiting for him to turn and start spewing insolence, but he surprised me for what would not be the last time in the days to come. Instead of protesting, he sloughed off his school robes to reveal an old gray t-shirt and jeans that had seen better days. There were a few holes around the seams at the pockets, one rather large one in the right knee, and the beginnings of fray were visible on the left one. The shirt was well-worn and incredibly thin. I could practically see his pert little nipples straining against the confines of the material, and that I even noticed should have been some kind of forewarning, but alas I wasn't aware of the continuation of my downward spiral.
He stretched his back languidly, arms over his head and hands clasping each elbow. I found myself mesmerized with the way his shoulder muscles hunched at the minimal exertion. The clothes were rather form fitting when compared to his normal attire and I took a moment to unabashedly admire his lithe form. As he twisted from one side to the other to fully work the muscles on his sides, I was rewarded with an almost insignificant flash of skin on each side.
The moment I realized I was drooling over my fifteen year old student, I forced my attention back to the papers strewn across my desk. In my resolve not to notice the boy again, I lost track of time. I ended up keeping him an extra thirty minutes longer than I'd originally intended. When I became aware of the late hour I glanced up and my words hung in my throat.
Apparently he'd assessed the situation and decided it was work best done on his knees, and… shirtless. The muscles in his back positively rippled each time he applied pressure to the sponge to scrub the floor. His arms were tightly corded and elicited such an inappropriate reaction in me. There was sweat dripping slowly down his back and both of the offending appendages, but that wasn't what drew my attention with the most ferocity.
Every time he leaned up to dip and wring the sponge I was graced with the most spectacular view of his backside. His waist was so thin and tapered perfectly into the top of his jeans giving way to the most supple arse I'd ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon. I shook my head to clear the thoughts that were swirling with such demanding intensity and cleared my throat to make way for the words I needed to say.
I startled him and he turned to look at me over his shoulder mid-wring and the image was so enticing I lost my voice yet again. So, instead of trying to speak I simply pointed at the clock on the wall behind my desk. I was expecting an indignant outcry when he realized how long he'd been here, but was shocked when he just laughed.
"I always lose track of the time when I'm doing actual physical work," He tossed the sponge into the bucket and stood, wiping his hands on that magnificent arse.
"I'll just dump the bucket and be on my way."
"Mister Potter, it would be advisable to redress before leaving as well," Way to state the obvious, I know.
He chuckled lightly before meeting my eyes, "I'd planned on it, it's not as… hot out there as it is in here," With that he disappeared into the storeroom and I was left with my mouth hanging open.
Had he just flirted with me? I wasn't sure. It most certainly couldn't be said that my office was even slightly warm, but then again he had been doing rather difficult work. So, I decided to take the safest route possible in my thinking. The boy had simply worn himself out cleaning the floor and nothing else.
Once he was again properly dressed he turned to me before walking out the door, "Sorry I didn't get the whole thing done. I hate leaving a job half finished."
"Don't worry yourself, Potter. I'm absolutely positive it will hold until your next detention," With a smirk I dropped my eyes to the waiting papers yet again. I heard rather than saw the smile on his face.
"I'm sure it will Professor, I'm sure it will," And he was gone, but it was only the beginning.
We had several more detentions much like that one before everything really went to hell. They'd been spent rather quietly. He'd come to me docile and ready to submit to the job before him, and I'd leave him to the task, running my eyes over him anytime I lost the battle with my willpower.
Then came the night he stomped into my office already in a snit. This was what I had been waiting for, this was the Potter I knew and could handle, or so I thought. We ended up in a verbal sparring match not ten minutes into his hour long detention.
I'm still not sure what came over me, but one minute I was laying into him for being just like his arrogant father and the next he was in my face and it was too much. So fast he yelped, I bent him over my desk and put the paddle in my top draw to good use.
It was only later that I realized I hadn't restrained him, not even with my hands, and he hadn't tried to get away. He hadn't even complained. With every stroke he'd groaned and gripped the desk even tighter. With every stroke and groan I grew harder. To have him at my mercy like that, to have him making those delicious noises bent over my desk? It was all I could do not to come in my robes.
When the spanking ended I just stood there, paddle in hand breathing heavily, waiting to see how he'd react. If he wanted to push it I could get fired for this, I knew he knew it. He took a few minutes to collect himself still bent across my desk. I had such a strong desire to pull his trousers down and see the damage I'd done. I wanted to soothe it, to make up for each swat individually, with my tongue.
He never said a word, just adjusted his robes around his waist and walked out the door. I thought to ask him why he was under the impression his detention had been served, but self-preservation kicked in and I didn't.
It was almost a week before I gave him another detention, opting to take house points instead. I swear it was as if he was trying to give me a reason. He was more difficult and openly misbehaved in my class that week than he'd ever been. I finally gave in that Thursday and sentenced him to a full two hour detention on Saturday, part was to be served with Hagrid and the last part with myself. He was a dream the rest of Thursday and that carried over into Friday.
It was a different story when he came to me on Saturday, however. He was again irritable and ready for a shouting match. What could I do but shut him up? He did start out across my desk, but when I'd finished with him there he didn't go quietly as he had previously.
"Does it make you feel good, Professor? Do you feel like you're more in control when you are spanking your students across your desk?" Potter was advancing on me, I took one step back and felt my desk chair hit my legs. I could see the elation in his eyes, the utter joy that he felt he had the upper hand, and that just wouldn't do.
In a move that surprised even myself, I sat down and pulled him with me across my lap. His arms and legs were dangling to the floor and his arse was perfectly in line for more punishment.
"No, Mister Potter, but this," I punctuated the word with a hard swat, "very much does give me the control that I seek." I know he moaned, I would have looked Merlin right in the eye and sworn it. I gave him several more licks before taking pity on the poor boy, but I didn't let him off my lap.
"You know, Potter, I do believe that this is the manner in which we will continue your detentions should you require one from this point on. It is a waste of my time to baby-sit you while you do common chores. At least this is somewhat enjoyable to me, I am a man that loves good old fashion corporal punishment after all," He whimpered and wiggled just a little, that's when I felt it. If the bulge in his trousers was anything to go on, he'd enjoyed it as well.
"Did you… Potter, do you like it when I spank you?" I was holding my breath, I wasn't sure which answer would be my damnation. He seemed to struggle with himself for a few minutes, but finally opened his mouth to answer, just a little too late.
The anticipation was killing me, so I reached between his legs and gave his obviously hard organ a firm squeeze, he growled and bucked into my hand. That was the moment I lost all semblance of control. With speed and agility that surprised me again, I unfastened his jeans and pulled them down. I didn't talk or even think about the consequences of my actions. I just wanted this boy on my lap to come as quickly as possible. It's still amazing to me how quickly I changed my mind. One second I wanted to cause him as much pain as possible, the next all I could think about was pleasuring him. Previously I had been relieved that the thick layers of my robe hid my arousal, now I was lamenting the fact that it hindered me from the contact I wanted.
I was using one hand to work his hard cock mercilessly and the other to gently massage the gloriously red cheeks of his arse, but it didn't seem to be enough. He wasn't coming undone as quickly as I wanted. I brought the hand that was on his bottom to my mouth and generously wetted a finger. When I ventured into his crack he moaned and lifted up for me, trying to open himself up.
"Please, please, please…" That was the first coherent word that had come from him since I'd started this insanity and it seemed to be playing on repeat. Never one to want to disappoint, I pressed the finger circling his pucker past the ring of muscle. The deep, almost guttural sigh that passed from between his lips spurred me on. I quickly stretched him enough to take two of my fingers and began pumping them intently, timing my thrusts into him with my pulls on his cock. He was desperately humping himself between my hands when I heard another word forming in his nonsensical babble.
"More, please, more, more, more. Deeper, harder. Please, Prof-Professor, Oh Merlin Please," I was already two fingers deep and pumping as hard as I dared, in what I assumed was his very virgin hole. I didn't know how I could go deeper in our current position. Then a thought hit me, but oh it was so wrong, surely he'd object…
I rummaged as quickly as I could in my robes and pulled out my wand. It was ridiculous how it turned me on to imagine impaling him with it. I muttered a charm and a thick, oily substance began leaking slowly from the tip.
I positioned it at his entrance, but before I could make up my mind, he was doing it for me. He had raised himself as far as he could and had taken just tip inside.
"Do it, push, fuck I need it so bad…" One thrust and it was halfway buried in his tight little ass. He sighed in relief and started humping in earnest again. I angled the wand to hit his sweet spot and set myself back to the task at hand, making Harry Potter come on my lap.
Once the wand was in place it only took minutes to wring the orgasm from his exhausted body. He shuddered as the last drops of come splattered my robes and fell onto the floor. The satisfied moan that followed pulled me from my lust induced stated of mind. Immediately the gravity of my actions hit me full force. I had just practically raped a student in my office, with my wand.
As the reality of the situation was sinking into my suddenly clear head, I felt Potter's hand trying to lift my robes. At some point he'd found the energy to slide off my lap and was now kneeling between my legs. The man in me wanted to let him continue, but the teacher in me reminded me very quickly of not only my position in his life, but his age. I steeled myself for what I knew would be a very difficult thing to do.
"Mister Potter, if you'd be so kind as to remove your hand from my leg," He looked up at me in surprise, confusion marring his otherwise perfect face. James Potter looking up at me with Lily Evans' eyes and my resolved faltered just a bit. But this wasn't James or Lily, this was their child. I wrapped my tough exterior around myself once again.
"What? I thought, "
"You thought wrong. This shouldn't have happened, and I will make sure that you are not compromised again in the future. I trust you can find your way to the Hospital Wing?" It was over, my entire career, my whole life.
"Why would I need to go to the Hospital Wing? I'm not hurt, at least not physically, and if you'd stop being such a cold, hard arse I wouldn't be hurting at all," We were standing at that point and Potter's hand was hovering just over my shoulder, as if he wanted to touch but was afraid to do so.
"Potter, pull up your trousers, adjust your robes and leave. How you handle your situation from here is entirely up to you, but there are things I must attend to," The tone of my voice left no room for argument and he was gone in just moments.
That was yesterday, last night, twenty-seven hours ago to be exact. I've waited all day for, at the very least a visit from Albus or at the worst Aurors banging down my door. Neither of which has happened, so I can only assume the boy was too ashamed to say anything. Which does cause some sadness on my part. It's not as if I intend to hide my indiscretions anyway and no one should have to suffer that type of injustice, or abuse by themselves.
As I sign my name to the very last letter I ever expect to write to my dearest friend there is an obscenely loud pounding on my office door. Ah, yes, that'll be the Aurors then. Maybe the boy has some gumption after all.
I open the door only to be met by an empty hallway. As I'm looking down the hall both ways to catch the fleeing perpetrator I notice a light disruption in the air in front of me. Then I'm looking straight into the guileless, green orbs of one Harry Potter.
"Sir, Could I come in? I think there may have been a misunderstanding yesterday and I'd like to clear that up," Oh yes, the boy has gumption, that is for sure.
"There was no misunderstanding, Mister Potter. I took advantage of…"
I don't get to finish as a finger is pressed against my lips and the boy is physically moving me back into the precincts of my office.
"Like I said, Professor. There was a misunderstanding and I'd like to be the one clue you in on a few things for once," Is this boy really only fifteen? It's so hard to believe when he's looking at me as if he's going to devour me whole.
"Well I figure you've had not only your fingers in my arse, but your wand as well, might as well call me Harry," He says it with a shrug of his shoulders, as if this conversation is the most natural thing in the world. It's silly to argue over how I address him when there are more pressing issues to consider, so I don't fight him on it.
"As you wish. Harry it is. Harry, my behavior over the past few weeks has been absolutely appalling. Yesterday… Well, yesterday I committed a crime against you for which I can never hope to atone. I'm taking steps to ensure your safety since it's blatantly obvious now that I cannot control myself any longer," I'm interrupted by a pair of sinfully soft lips that are demanding my attention and arms wrapping around my neck to pull me as close as possible.
"Harry…" I'm disgusted by myself when his name comes out husky and needy. He pulls back just enough to speak against my lips.
"Severus, may I call you Severus?" He doesn't wait for an answer, "You have committed no crime against me. You know I enjoyed myself immensely yesterday and every detention before that. Teasing you was so much fun, more so once I realized you actually enjoyed it. The spankings? Well that's been a fantasy of mine for almost two years now, so I have no complaints about that. What I take issue with is you throwing me out on my arse just moments after the best orgasm of my whole life. I take issue with you denying yourself the pleasure I was and still am, I might add, prepared to give you."
Oh, I want to protest, to continue to tell him how wrong this whole scenario really is, but his lips truly are so very silky and his hand is so warm traveling up the length of my leg.
"I went back to my dorm last night and cried myself to sleep. Not because I felt violated, but because I felt rejected. I've spent the better part of today locked away behind my bed curtains and a silencing charm. Do you know what I was doing Severus?" The only way I can respond is with a shake of my head.
"I was wanking, with my wand in my arse, wishing it was something much bigger, something you can give me right now…"
I'm through fighting the force of nature that is Harry Potter. I'm an old man and I'm sometimes weak in my convictions. At least this is what I tell myself as I escort Harry to my bedchamber, leaving my resignation letter laying in ashes on my desk.