Harry and Ron had been arguing about the previous day's Quidditch fiasco for hours already by the time they reached Potions that morning. They weren't late, but Snape was in a foul mood nonetheless.
But then...Snape was always in a foul mood.
"Ah, Potter. Delighted you and Weasley could make it to class on time. After yesterday, I had thought it impossible."
"Oh, bloody hell, here we go," Ron said under his breath. "Now we've got pug-nose Parkinson tittering at us." Harry and Hermione both stared at him, and Hermione was not pleased. "Ronald Weasley, that's an awful thing to say!" She tried to keep her voice down, but nearly everyone sitting around them heard her. Snape didn't seem to notice, which was odd, so Ron quietly shot back, "what? It's not bad Hermione, it just means the same as snicker..." "I know what titter means, I meant pug-nose!" Just when they thought they were safe..."Miss Granger," Snape hissed, "another outburst like that and you'll be spending the afternoon in detention. With Hagrid, tending those blast-ended skrewts you're so very fond of. Five points from Gryffindor."
She turned a bright shade of scarlet, then turned around in her seat and faced the front of the classroom, not looking at Snape. "Open your books and turn to page three hundred and--Mister Garrovik," Snape said, frowning mightily, "shall I send you to Hagrid for skrewt duty this afternoon?" The boy stared up at Snape and shook his head, terrified, and couldn't seem to stow the object in his robes fast enough. "Then pay attention," Snape said as he picked up a stack of papers. "Ten points from Hufflepuff." Harry opened his book angrily. What was it with Snape? Why was he always such a prick? "You are in more dire need of a blow job than any white man in history," he muttered well under his breath, but both Ron and Hermione heard him.
He didn't have to look at either one of them to know they were both staring at him in complete and utter shock. It was just a line from some Muggle movie, it was the only thing he'd gotten to see of it, and he thought it was terribly funny though he'd not known what it meant when he'd seen it. So he'd asked Fred and George about it. That was terribly embarrassing. But not so embarrassing as this could turn out to be...
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Potter?" Snape's voice was silky, though nearly leathal as usual, and for one terrible moment Harry thought that the Potions Master had actually heard him. "No," Harry replied, "no sir." He just wished Ron would stop staring at him. He knew Hermione was probably not going to speak to him the rest of the day, but he could live with that. She'd already turned to face the front of the class again by the time Snape had looked up. Harry didn't even hear what he was saying to Ron; he couldn't take his eyes off of the assignment on the board.
He put his head down on the table, sighing with frustration. How was he going to get through the assignment? He didn't have all of the ingredients, he knew he didn't. Oh, this was exactly what Snape would need to--
Hermione nudged him and he sat up straight, but not before Snape had noticed. "Clearly, Potter," Snape said with a smirk, "you've decided not to do today's assignment. How...disappointing." His brow arched as he looked from Harry to Ron, then back to Harry again. "I was so looking forward to you and Mister Weasley blowing each other up..." Harry sighed and said, "just give me the zero and--" Snape came around the table and stopped behind Harry, leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "oh, no, Potter. You're not getting off that easily. I expect you to figure out a way to earn some extra credit for today's assignment, or you will have a week of detention. With me."
Harry blinked, and Snape pulled away from him, then walked back up to the front of the classroom. Extra Credit? Bloody sodding hell, Harry thought. What else could he do? Do the extra credit and take what he could get. Better than another failing mark.
The rest of the class hour went quickly, with Draco and his little fan club giggling at him as they left the room. Hermione didn't wait for him; she grabbed her things after turning in the assignment, which Snape gave her what Harry thought was an unusually high mark for, and left. She was good, but not that good, Harry fumed, and surmised Snape had done it just to irritate him. Ron, though, stuck around long enough to wish him luck. After the last student left, and they were alone, Snape asked him if he had thought of something. "Yeah," Harry said as he got up from his seat, "yes sir, I have." Snape watched him as he approached the desk, and Harry tried to prepare himself for what he had decided to attempt.
"This had better be good, Potter," Snape said coolly, "it had better be worth my time, or you'll be doing more than tending skrewts." Harry rubbed his hands on his robe nervously. "No, sir, I think...I think it'll be worth your time." Snape stood at his desk and Harry stood in front of him, his black eyes focused entirely on Harry's green ones. "Annoying boy," Snape thought, then said, "well? I'm waiting." Harry rubbed his hands together, his heart pounding. "Ok, right, Professor, you may want to lean back." Snape's brows furrowed as he tried to imagine what the boy was going to do, then stepped back when Harry stepped closer. Snape was right against his desk and had no choice but to reach back and grab the desk with both hands.
Anger flashed across his face but subsided quickly once Harry's hands got to Snape's trousers. "What are you doing, Potter?" Harry nearly told him, "you a favor," but he bit back the words. He really needed the extra credit...the front of Snape's trousers opened easily and his hand found a sleeping snake deep in the Potions Master's robes. "May I remind you, Potter," Snape said evenly, "the consequences of a student laying hands on a teacher..." Harry's eyes bored into his. "I can stop, Professor, if you want," he said, then went down on his knees. Snape's eyes widened for a second, then narrowed to slits once Harry opened his robes. "No," he said, "you've gone this far..."
Snape's serpent was awake and stiff, thanks to Harry's ministrations, and any protest Snape might still have had evaporated the instant he felt Harry's breath on him. Then his tongue. That tongue ran up, then back down the length of his shaft, and the sigh was out of him before he could stop it. He felt Harry's mouth just at the head, at first, then the boy took the whole thing, and he didn't know how long he could remain standing. Merlin's Beard, he knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop it...the boy knew what he was doing. Not that he'd had many of these, there was just the one that Parkinson had begged him to let her give, but she was honsetly clueless and it was a rather unpleasant experience.
But this...
Harry got him so close so quickly, the boy's concentration was incredible, he wanted it to just go on, maybe an hour of this, if Harry had the stamina...but he was nearly there...
Harry felt Snape's hand on his head, gently stroking his hair, and he thought maybe, just maybe he could enjoy doing this...the sounds that escaped the Potions Master were like nothing he'd ever heard another human make, and he liked them. Knowing that he was making Snape make those sounds made him feel powerful, somehow. He'd have to think about it later. Now, he just had to get Snape to--
Something bumped him, jostled him hard, and his eyes snapped open. "Harry!" Hermoine hissed, "I've been trying to wake you up! You've slept through class and Professor Snape is--" Ron shook his head. "Sorry, mate, I knew we were up too late...goin' on about the match." Harry looked around the room and saw everyone packing up their things. "I--I was dreaming?" He looked up at Hermione as she gathered her books and things. "Dreaming? Well, I think you were, and it must have been a good dream because I couldn't wake you," she whispered, punctuating each word, "and you'll be lucky if you only get a week's worth of detention!" She stormed off then, and Snape glared up at him from behind his desk. "Another failed assignment, Mister Potter," Snape said, his voice low and icy. "You can either take a week's detention with me," the Potions Master said as Harry packed up his things, "or come up with a worthwhile means of earning extra credit."
Harry stood up. "Um, Professor, if it's all the same to you," he said as assertively as he could, "I think I've got an idea for the extra credit..."
But then...Snape was always in a foul mood.
"Ah, Potter. Delighted you and Weasley could make it to class on time. After yesterday, I had thought it impossible."
"Oh, bloody hell, here we go," Ron said under his breath. "Now we've got pug-nose Parkinson tittering at us." Harry and Hermione both stared at him, and Hermione was not pleased. "Ronald Weasley, that's an awful thing to say!" She tried to keep her voice down, but nearly everyone sitting around them heard her. Snape didn't seem to notice, which was odd, so Ron quietly shot back, "what? It's not bad Hermione, it just means the same as snicker..." "I know what titter means, I meant pug-nose!" Just when they thought they were safe..."Miss Granger," Snape hissed, "another outburst like that and you'll be spending the afternoon in detention. With Hagrid, tending those blast-ended skrewts you're so very fond of. Five points from Gryffindor."
She turned a bright shade of scarlet, then turned around in her seat and faced the front of the classroom, not looking at Snape. "Open your books and turn to page three hundred and--Mister Garrovik," Snape said, frowning mightily, "shall I send you to Hagrid for skrewt duty this afternoon?" The boy stared up at Snape and shook his head, terrified, and couldn't seem to stow the object in his robes fast enough. "Then pay attention," Snape said as he picked up a stack of papers. "Ten points from Hufflepuff." Harry opened his book angrily. What was it with Snape? Why was he always such a prick? "You are in more dire need of a blow job than any white man in history," he muttered well under his breath, but both Ron and Hermione heard him.
He didn't have to look at either one of them to know they were both staring at him in complete and utter shock. It was just a line from some Muggle movie, it was the only thing he'd gotten to see of it, and he thought it was terribly funny though he'd not known what it meant when he'd seen it. So he'd asked Fred and George about it. That was terribly embarrassing. But not so embarrassing as this could turn out to be...
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Potter?" Snape's voice was silky, though nearly leathal as usual, and for one terrible moment Harry thought that the Potions Master had actually heard him. "No," Harry replied, "no sir." He just wished Ron would stop staring at him. He knew Hermione was probably not going to speak to him the rest of the day, but he could live with that. She'd already turned to face the front of the class again by the time Snape had looked up. Harry didn't even hear what he was saying to Ron; he couldn't take his eyes off of the assignment on the board.
He put his head down on the table, sighing with frustration. How was he going to get through the assignment? He didn't have all of the ingredients, he knew he didn't. Oh, this was exactly what Snape would need to--
Hermione nudged him and he sat up straight, but not before Snape had noticed. "Clearly, Potter," Snape said with a smirk, "you've decided not to do today's assignment. How...disappointing." His brow arched as he looked from Harry to Ron, then back to Harry again. "I was so looking forward to you and Mister Weasley blowing each other up..." Harry sighed and said, "just give me the zero and--" Snape came around the table and stopped behind Harry, leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "oh, no, Potter. You're not getting off that easily. I expect you to figure out a way to earn some extra credit for today's assignment, or you will have a week of detention. With me."
Harry blinked, and Snape pulled away from him, then walked back up to the front of the classroom. Extra Credit? Bloody sodding hell, Harry thought. What else could he do? Do the extra credit and take what he could get. Better than another failing mark.
The rest of the class hour went quickly, with Draco and his little fan club giggling at him as they left the room. Hermione didn't wait for him; she grabbed her things after turning in the assignment, which Snape gave her what Harry thought was an unusually high mark for, and left. She was good, but not that good, Harry fumed, and surmised Snape had done it just to irritate him. Ron, though, stuck around long enough to wish him luck. After the last student left, and they were alone, Snape asked him if he had thought of something. "Yeah," Harry said as he got up from his seat, "yes sir, I have." Snape watched him as he approached the desk, and Harry tried to prepare himself for what he had decided to attempt.
"This had better be good, Potter," Snape said coolly, "it had better be worth my time, or you'll be doing more than tending skrewts." Harry rubbed his hands on his robe nervously. "No, sir, I think...I think it'll be worth your time." Snape stood at his desk and Harry stood in front of him, his black eyes focused entirely on Harry's green ones. "Annoying boy," Snape thought, then said, "well? I'm waiting." Harry rubbed his hands together, his heart pounding. "Ok, right, Professor, you may want to lean back." Snape's brows furrowed as he tried to imagine what the boy was going to do, then stepped back when Harry stepped closer. Snape was right against his desk and had no choice but to reach back and grab the desk with both hands.
Anger flashed across his face but subsided quickly once Harry's hands got to Snape's trousers. "What are you doing, Potter?" Harry nearly told him, "you a favor," but he bit back the words. He really needed the extra credit...the front of Snape's trousers opened easily and his hand found a sleeping snake deep in the Potions Master's robes. "May I remind you, Potter," Snape said evenly, "the consequences of a student laying hands on a teacher..." Harry's eyes bored into his. "I can stop, Professor, if you want," he said, then went down on his knees. Snape's eyes widened for a second, then narrowed to slits once Harry opened his robes. "No," he said, "you've gone this far..."
Snape's serpent was awake and stiff, thanks to Harry's ministrations, and any protest Snape might still have had evaporated the instant he felt Harry's breath on him. Then his tongue. That tongue ran up, then back down the length of his shaft, and the sigh was out of him before he could stop it. He felt Harry's mouth just at the head, at first, then the boy took the whole thing, and he didn't know how long he could remain standing. Merlin's Beard, he knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop it...the boy knew what he was doing. Not that he'd had many of these, there was just the one that Parkinson had begged him to let her give, but she was honsetly clueless and it was a rather unpleasant experience.
But this...
Harry got him so close so quickly, the boy's concentration was incredible, he wanted it to just go on, maybe an hour of this, if Harry had the stamina...but he was nearly there...
Harry felt Snape's hand on his head, gently stroking his hair, and he thought maybe, just maybe he could enjoy doing this...the sounds that escaped the Potions Master were like nothing he'd ever heard another human make, and he liked them. Knowing that he was making Snape make those sounds made him feel powerful, somehow. He'd have to think about it later. Now, he just had to get Snape to--
Something bumped him, jostled him hard, and his eyes snapped open. "Harry!" Hermoine hissed, "I've been trying to wake you up! You've slept through class and Professor Snape is--" Ron shook his head. "Sorry, mate, I knew we were up too late...goin' on about the match." Harry looked around the room and saw everyone packing up their things. "I--I was dreaming?" He looked up at Hermione as she gathered her books and things. "Dreaming? Well, I think you were, and it must have been a good dream because I couldn't wake you," she whispered, punctuating each word, "and you'll be lucky if you only get a week's worth of detention!" She stormed off then, and Snape glared up at him from behind his desk. "Another failed assignment, Mister Potter," Snape said, his voice low and icy. "You can either take a week's detention with me," the Potions Master said as Harry packed up his things, "or come up with a worthwhile means of earning extra credit."
Harry stood up. "Um, Professor, if it's all the same to you," he said as assertively as he could, "I think I've got an idea for the extra credit..."
