Harry looked up from his cauldron just long enough to catch the Potions Master eyeing him for the third time that day. Not alarmed by this anymore, he casually glanced around the room to make sure no one was looking, and proceeded to throw him the sauciest wink he could manage. The professor blinked in disbelief, cleared his throat, and hastily busied himself with arranging a set of brass scales neatly on his table. Seeing the man in his flustered state forced Harry to conceal a giggle in the sleeve of his robes.

"What's got you acting all cheery today, Harry?"

Harry jumped. He'd been so caught up in making eyes at his teacher that he didn't realize Ron was watching him.

"Oh er—I'm just… Nothing. It's nothing. Just having a good day, that's all."

"Bloody hell, Harry, I see the way you look at that git. What's gotten into you?"

"Shhhh! Don't say it so lou-" Harry hissed. "I mean, uhh, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Harry. You've really got a thing for that slimeball? He's just so… "

Before Ron could go any further with his ideas, Harry decided to change the subject.

"Er… it's Quidditch trials next week. Fancy a practice later on?"

Confused by the sudden conversation change, Ron simply nodded and said, "Oh uhh, yeah."

Harry loved and hated coming to potions class every day with Ron. He loved it because it was his only chance to secretly flirt with his favorite teacher. The only thing he had to worry about was how much he'd hate it if the word got out about it.

But oh, how he loved the way his professor turned the slightest shade of pink at the simplest interaction. Harry would purposely go out of his way to ensure the man had a hard time staying on track. Countless times, the boy had bumped into him, making it appear as an accident. Twice this week, he'd managed to cause a ruckus large enough to get the professor to come over to his table where he could watch him conjure up some cleaning supplies and go to work at the mess he'd just created. Why, just yesterday, he timed his brew just a few minutes late and watched in sinful glee as the bitter, middle-aged man bent before him, grumbling whilst gathering the textbook pages his potion had just blown up.

To the professor, these were distractions. A waste of time for everyone. Nothing more than a careless teenage boy making an ass of himself.

To Harry, these moments were splendid little treats he got to behold each day. He carefully thought out each time he presented the man with a problem, and he always prepared himself for the glorious reaction to ensue. That is, every time until now.

"Everyone clear out! Class is finished! We're done early."

The bark startled Harry more than it should have. He looked at his teacher and saw that he was glaring intensely right at him. Why was he ordering everyone to leave so early? Class had only begun a little while ago. With a sort of deflated feeling, he gathered up his things and started shoving them in his book bag.

Over the general buzz of the room and the sounds of students gladly packing up early, Harry didn't even notice the tall cloaked figure sweeping over to him. As he went to smash his last notebook into the mess of supplies he'd formed in his bag, he saw a pair of thick, black leather boots before him. Petrified at the sudden encounter, he looked up slowly. Something about this—kneeling beneath the Potions Master's towering body was… could he think it? Erotic. The way the dark man stood above him... looking down at him with that unmistakable look of dissatisfaction directly caused by his own silly schemes…

Bringing a halt to Harry's brief daydreaming was another harsh order from the professor. This time, it was more of a hiss than a bark, and it was intended only for Harry.

"You. Stay. POTTER."

At this, Harry had an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He was done for. He slowly turned to Ron and told him he'd meet up with him later, and as he and the last of the students were filing out the door, Harry braced himself for what was he was sure was going to happen.

"Sir, I—"

"Quiet, Potter."

The calmness in his teacher's voice made him shudder.

"You have confounded me for the last time," he went on, "I know about your little pranks and your intentional mishaps. Well, hear me now. If you EVER… try to baffle me again, or attempt to derail my lessons in any way, I will go STRAIGHT to the headmaster. And you will regret EVERY foolish decision you have made in my presence. Are we clear?"

"Y-yes, Sir, but I didn't mean—"

"Enough, Potter. That's detention for a week."

"Professor, please! You don't understa—"

"Get. Out."

"BLIMEY, WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME? Bloody hell. Severus Snape, you are the most difficult man I have ever met."

The room went silent. Harry's emotions had gotten the best of him for a fleeting moment, and now he was left to deal with the repercussions of his blunder. His heart was pounding, his mind was racing, and his instincts told him to leave as quickly as possible. Before he could piece together his next move, Snape spoke.

"How dare you call me by my first name. And how dare you speak to me like that!"

"Professor, I'm sorry, I just got carried away."

"Indeed," was all Snape could say.

The two stood in utter stillness for a few moments, both trying to figure out what to say or do next. Harry felt awful for everything he'd done thus far. All he wanted was for Snape to pay attention to him and the only response he'd gotten was frustration and annoyance. Now, as they stood there in silence, Harry began to wonder if Snape even knew how he felt about him.

How he wanted nothing more than to feel his chest against his own… to rip the many layers of clothing from his body… to feel the skin so carefully hidden away…

To taste him. All of him. And to experience the one thing no one else could give him.

As Harry all too willingly pondered this thought, he noticed the professor growing increasingly irritable and fidgety. He began to pace slowly across the room, wringing his hands as he went, all the while mumbling to himself.

"Stupid Potter boy… Such a fool… Always messing things up… Oh, calm down, Severus. It'll be alright… No! No, because in walks the Potter boy with his pretty green eyes and his perky little body… Oh dash it all… Bloody Potter…"

Harry wasn't sure if he'd heard his teacher properly. As the man continued to rant to himself, he decided to speak up.

"—er, Professor?"

Snape spun around faster than a golden snitch in flight.

"WHAT, POTTER?" He bellowed.

The pair finally made eye contact. Harry looking worried, and Snape looking, well…

"Leave. Now."

"Sir, it's—"

"You shouldn't have heard that. You must go."




It took everything in Harry not to throw himself at the man before him now. He angered him to no end, and caused him more grief than all of the other professors combined. Half the time, he was so full of rage cause by Snape that he could think of nothing but a series of angry, passion-filled daydreams he had fabricated to pass the class time. And now, he was confronted with the issue of it all becoming reality. Was this even possible?

"Sir," Harry choked, "I've been causing you all this trouble… because I wanted you to notice me."

"Yes, Potter, well done. I've noticed." Snape retorted.

Feeling that his words were being lost in Snape's frustration, Harry tried a more direct approach and confronted him on his prior outburst.

"Sir, what were you talking about a moment ago… about me… what did you mean?"

"That. Is none of your business. Potter."

"I should think so, Professor. After all, you did seem to have some rather nice things to say about me," Harry said teasingly, "What was that about my perky little body?"

Harry stifled a giggle. He was getting more confident. He could tell Snape was growing frazzled and weary of the conversation. He knew he had him right where he wanted him… just how he always wanted him… baffled enough to go along with his boyish fantasy. Yes, indeed Harry was feeling more comfortable with this talk…

Too comfortable.

Harry continued to tease the professor.

"Oh that Potter boy with his pretty green eyes…" he chanted in a high-pitched voice.

At this, Snape had had enough. He lunged at the boy, knocking him into a bookshelf. Harry could only defend himself by putting his arms out and pushing the angry man away. Still, Snape continued to take his rage out. He grabbed a hold of the boy's robes and shook him.


Through the flailing and yelling, all Harry managed to do was squeak an occasional, "Sir!" or "Professor, no!"

Suddenly, the struggle subsided and the pair stood, breathing heavily and watching each other carefully. Snape had Harry's wrists pinned to the wall where the boy trembled both in surprise and excitement at the situation. The taller man looked down at his prey and met his eyes. Those pretty green eyes. Harry couldn't help but catch his breath when the professor looked directly at him this way. He just looked right back at him, smiled, and let out a small chuckle.

Inches from the young man's face, Snape asked, "What could possibly be funny right now?"

To Harry's pleasant surprise, the man didn't sound so angry anymore. Exasperated, yes. But not angry. If anything, he was a bit peeved, yet his tone sounded lighter. Cheery even. Harry got the impression that Snape might even giggle as well! He thought for a moment. It wasn't funny, really. It was just that… could he even tell Snape? He had nothing to lose.

"Nothing, sir, it's just that all this time, this is all I ever wanted from you."

"What, a rage-induced, violent outburst?" Snape questioned sarcastically.

Harry took his chance.

"Well… No. But… being pressed between you and this wall is nice…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. He slackened his grip on the boy's wrists and allowed himself to look at him entirely. He stared blankly at Harry, not knowing what to do next. He knew what he wanted. He knew it was wrong. He wanted to—

"Sir," Harry's voice interrupted his thought, "How much longer are you going to keep me here without letting me have my say?"

The tone of his voice made Snape shiver. It was low. Almost a whisper. Sultry. The man took a step back and released his captive calmly.

"Fine then. What is it you want?" he asked, a bit cautiously.

"You." Harry whimpered.

Still in disbelief, Snape shook his head and tried to brush past the boy and out of the classroom. Wordlessly, Harry held out his hand to stop him and caught him right at the hip. Snape didn't move. He stood, filled with confusion and frustration, and still delighted in the boy's touch. He remained silent and allowed Harry to move. He watched as his pupil stepped around to face him, all the while never taking that hand off of his body. He let it drag around the small of his back and let it rest right below his waist where he brought up his other to match it. Snape let his head drop to look at the younger man. He didn't know what to do other than enjoy the sensation of those hands dancing over him. He caught Harry's gaze. They locked eyes for a moment before stealing a glance at each other's lips. Harry leaned in, nervously, and stood a bit higher on his toes and grasped the body so devilishly shrouded in black until their mouths were finally close enough to grow warm from their shared breath. One final thought, and Harry let their lips touch. He stayed long enough to feel his professor let out a small moan before parting their kiss and looking up at him once more. Snape stared back at him, eyes blacker than ever.

"Sir?" Harry wondered if the man was alright.

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. Without another word, Snape had once again grabbed his student by the wrists and flung him against the wall. Having not the slightest of inhibitions, the professor caught Harry's lips with his own and pressed into the kiss with force. Harry responded enthusiastically, arching his back against the wall, and bringing their bodies impossibly closer. At this, Snape released one of Harry's arms and let his hand wander down the slim body in his clutches. His fingers drifted over the boy's ass, still clothed under the school robes and uniform. For a fleeting moment, Harry worried about the consequences of his fantasy coming true.

"Sir, what if-"

"Quiet," Snape interjected, "and take these off," he added, tugging at the robes still mocking him in the way they hid his conquest.

Harry obeyed. He drew back from his professor momentarily to brush his robes off his shoulders and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Hungrily, Snape assisted him, not so delicately. As soon as the buttons were undone, he pushed the shirt down the boy's arms and slid it off his back. Immediately, he began planting hot, wet kisses down Harry's jaw line, leaving a lustful trail down his throat and sprinkling a dozen more across his chest. His lips found one of Harry's nipples, firm and waiting. He eagerly took it into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, making Harry gasp in ecstasy.

My god, the boy's excitable, isn't he? Snape thought.

Not able to control himself, Harry reached out and began to grope his teacher. With fumbling hands, he felt him up. From waist to ass, back up to chest, and everywhere in between, Harry took in every detail of the slender figure he had discovered. But it wasn't enough.

"I- I want to t-touch you, sir," Harry stammered.

As if amused by this, Snape showed a devious smile and began to unbutton his coat. Harry watched with glee as his professor removed nearly all layers of his own clothing until he was wearing nothing but a pair of black silken boxers. Looking down, Harry could see how much Snape was enjoying himself. A small damp spot had formed on his underwear next to a bulge that made Harry feel very pleased to have caused. He stood there, gawking at the man in front of him. He was pale and smooth, not unlike Harry himself. The only difference in their complexion was a large black tattoo on Snape's forearm. The Dark Mark. But it didn't matter to Harry what his professor had done in the past. All he craved now was to feel his body and run his hands all over that delicious skin. As if granting him permission, Snape stepped forward once again and placed the boy's hands on his waist. With that, Harry pulled his prize closer and both men gasped at the sudden contact. Their skin finally touching was electric. There was a sudden ignition of passion and now, neither man could keep his hands off the other. It was all fiery kisses and furious fondling. Harry gasped once more as Snape dragged his teeth down his neck and bit down at the bottom, surely leaving a bruise at the boy's shoulder. They groaned in unison as Harry bucked forward, involuntarily grinding their erections into one another. Snape instinctively reached down and seized Harry's desperate cock firmly through his trousers, tearing a needy moan from the boy's throat.

Sensing the effect he had, Snape growled softly, "you like that, do you?" with a teasing smile.

All Harry could manage in response was, "yes, s-sir."

"What was that?" Snape purred, "I didn't hear you."

He began moving down Harry's body, leaving more kisses as he went, until he was on his knees before the bulge in Harry's slacks.

Harry bit his lip and poorly stifled a greedy moan.

"Yes, Potter?" Teased Snape.

Harry whimpered with anticipation.

"Profes-ssor... Please."

That was all the invitation he needed. The potions master swiftly unlatched the belt holding Harry's trousers, pulled down the zipper and let the pants slide to his ankles. Snape continued to tease the boy for a moment, not yet giving him what he wanted. He began nipping at Harry's straining erection softly, and wet spot grew on his underwear to match Snape's until he was practically screaming with want. Satisfied with himself, Snape finally indulged him and yanked his underwear down to join the pants. Cold air caressed Harry's flaming erection and he let out a cry of excitement. He didn't have to wait long though, as Snape was just as eager. He took all of Harry at once and let the head of his cock rub the back of his throat. Moaning obscenely, Harry began thrusting himself into Snape's mouth. Snape held him by the hips and loved every minute of it. Soon, the boy was breathing heavily and moving his hips ever so clumsily. He wanted to finish. He was close. He leaned into the wall for support and focused on the pleasure all over him. Just then, Snape lifted his head up and let Harry's dripping cock spring away.

Surprised, Harry simply panted, "but sir, I... I didn't..."

Snape looked smug.

"My turn," he demanded.

Harry, looking puzzled and slightly disappointed about being interrupted, reluctantly dropped to his knees in front of Snape.

"No," came the professor's gruff voice, "get up and turn around. Now."

Harry was shocked at his sudden demand, but he obeyed and once he had risen, he slowly turned to face the wall while Snape removed his last article of clothing. Suddenly, and with great force, the potions master shoved Harry into the wall and pressed himself against his body.

He brought his lips down to Harry's neck and hissed in his ear almost threateningly, "you're going to enjoy this."

Then, with no warning, Snape thrust himself completely into Harry, burying his entire length in the chosen one. Harry couldn't help the primal howl that tore from his lips this time. It hurt. He was in pain, but he wanted more. He wanted to move, but Snape was ruthless. The taller man held his hips so tightly, he was certain he'd be bruised. Harry could feel fingernails digging into his soft skin, marking him, controlling him. All the while, Snape continuously pounded into him, having no mercy. He slammed into the boy with a steady rhythm, each time causing Harry to let out a high-pitched moan. Gradually, Snape picked up the pace. Never ceasing, and never decreasing the force with which he fucked his student, he soon began to feel the heat rising in his groin. As his insides coiled into a mind-numbing bundle of fire, he reached around and began pumping Harry's cock furiously.

Once again, the professor rasped in Harry's ear, "Come. Now."

It took but a few seconds and Harry was throwing his head back to fully let his orgasm consume him. Snape's hand continued to stroke him, sending sticky white ribbons all over the wall. Another well-timed thrust, and Snape was coming as well. He desperately milked every bit of his climax, pulsing inside Harry's body.

Snape was pleased to see Harry's legs shaking when he finally pulled away. He wasted no time putting his clothes back on and waited for Harry to dress himself. He stalked over to his desk and sat down patiently. Once Harry was back in uniform, he spoke.

"I suppose a detention is in order," he said calmly, "I might have a thing or two I could teach you."

Harry liked the idea, but grew suspicious.

"But sir, how shall I earn a detention without drawing attention to the... reason?" He asked playfully.

"I don't know, Potter," he scoffed, "you're always finding some way to get into trouble. Now get out. I have work to do."

Harry turned on the spot and left the dungeon classroom with a smile. He was already thinking about ways to bring ruckus to potions class tomorrow.