Title: Auror Assessments
Author: centaury_squill
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: agrexophilia (arousal from knowing one might be overheard), lubricant
Other Warnings: none
Word Count: 1175
Summary/Description: Harry so wants to become an Auror, he'll do anything to pass his final exams.


Harry drew in a deep breath and straightened his student robes. If all went well, this would be the last time he'd wear them; tomorrow he'd arrive at the Ministry of Magic decked out as a fully-fledged Auror. If all went well.

He was reasonably sure he'd given a good account of himself throughout his training, and he'd received high marks in the written exam. Now it was just the final series of practical tests to get through. He'd feel a lot more confident, though, if the first test didn't involve brewing an unknown potion. For Severus Snape.

The examination hall was set up as a row of cubicles, each one separated from the next by a thin partition. Candidates progressed from the first cubicle (Potions) through to the final one (Wizard's Duel), demonstrating their abilities to a series of examiners. As he waited apprehensively outside the first door, Harry could hear bloodcurdling screams as a student encountered a Hippogriff further down the line.

At last the door opened and an irritable voice shouted, "Next!"

Harry took another deep breath, vainly tried to smooth down his hair, and walked into the cubicle. The door sealed itself magically shut behind him. There was no way out save through the testing course of assessments which lay ahead, beginning with brewing a potion for Ministry-approved consultant, Severus Snape.

Harry wasn't quite sure why he felt so nervous. After all, Snape had taught some of the Potions classes on the Auror course, and while he hadn't exactly been friendly, he seemed to have lost the massive chip on his shoulder of his Hogwarts days. In fact his attitude had reminded Harry more of the Half-Blood Prince who had scribbled such helpful notes in the margins of his textbook. And he had been scrupulously polite to all his students – although Harry had received several rather odd glances from him, which he'd been unable to interpret.

"Are you ready, Mr Potter?"

Snape's deep drawl sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He surreptitiously slid his hand inside his robes and took a firm hold on his wand for comfort.

"Yes," he said.

"Very well." Snape sounded bored. "As you may be aware, this test is intended to probe the skills of each applicant. To that end, I have tailored each trial potion to the character of the student. All are different. The instructions for your particular potion, Mr Potter, are here."

He flicked his wand at a blackboard in a corner of the room; a list of ingredients and instructions immediately appeared on it in Snape's tiny handwriting.

"You will both brew and test the potion to my satisfaction before continuing to the next examiner. You have one hour. Begin."

Harry crossed the cubicle to peer at the blackboard, wondering what potion Snape had deemed suitable for himself. It wasn't one that he recognised; as far as he knew, he'd never brewed it before.

"What does it do? Sir?"

Snape looked at him for a long moment. Encountering those dark eyes with their fathomless gaze, Harry shivered again. At last, Snape said softly, "That will become apparent as you proceed, Mr Potter."

*
Harry brewed in an absorbed silence, broken only by the low murmur of spell-casting from a nearby cubicle. The potion had been tricky, but was at last nearing completion. Harry still had no clue what it was supposed to do.

He glanced up at Snape, but the mask-like face was giving nothing away. Harry gave a final anticlockwise stir to the potion and stepped back.

"It's ready, sir."

Snape gave him an unreadable look. "So demonstrate it, Mr Potter."

Harry scooped a ladleful of the slippery gloop from his cauldron and sniffed it cautiously. What was he supposed to do, drink it? Then the faintly arousing aroma triggered a memory, and he gasped.

Snape smiled gleefully. "That's right, Mr Potter. Congratulations on brewing a perfect lubricant. Now –" his voice dropped suggestively, "– demonstrate it."

Harry gaped at him. Surely Snape couldn't mean....? From the look on his face and the bulge in the front of his robes, it was evident he did mean, and that Harry would get no further with his assessment until he did what Snape wanted.

Slowly, Harry removed his robes and laid them aside. He slipped down his briefs, and, back turned towards Snape, bent over the cauldron. He heard Snape's hiss of indrawn breath and smiled secretly to himself. Harry put a tentative finger into the potion. It had cooled to a bearable temperature and thickened even more in the process. He scooped up a handful and used it to thoroughly slick his cock.

"Turn round," commanded Snape.

Harry obeyed, and, eyes fixed on Snape's, began to wank. Snape's eyes moved downwards gloatingly and watched as Harry slid his hand up and down his cock until he came.

When he'd got his breath back, Harry stooped over his robes, intending to get dressed. Then he shivered as he felt Snape's breath on the back of his neck. "Demonstrate all its properties, Mr Potter."

Harry scooped up more potion and prepared his hole. By the time he'd finished, Snape was breathing heavily and had discarded his own robe. He slammed Harry down onto the table and roughly pushed apart his legs.

"Moan for me, Potter. Let me know how it feels."

"Someone might hear us," gasped Harry, mindful of the thin partitions between each cubicle.

Snape's grin was feral. "So they might."

His cock nudged up against Harry's well-slicked opening. Harry lifted his legs and rested them on Snape's shoulders. Snape stared down at him with a darkly serious look, then penetrated him deeply. Harry gasped.

"Louder, Potter," growled Snape. The thought that examiners and trainees in the nearby cubicles might hear them was obviously turning him on.

"Yes!" Harry shouted. "Do me, Professor Snape!" To his surprise, he was getting hard again.

Snape grabbed Harry's cock and tugged on it in time to his slow, rhythmic, plunges.

"I – knew – you'd – do – anything – for – a – good – mark," he panted, spacing his words out to coincide with each thrust. "Tart!"

The last word was screamed out as he came, shuddering and pulsing out his spunk deep into Harry's rectum. A moment later, Harry came into Snape's hand.

Snape reached for his wand and conjured a butt plug, shaped like a smaller replica of his own cock and balls, out of thin air. "Put this in," he ordered hoarsely. "And don't remove it until your assessment is over. It's enchanted so I'll know if you do, and I'll void your Potions mark."

"Why?" asked Harry, squeezing the butt plug home.

"I like to think of you performing for the rest of your examiners with my spunk inside you," smirked Snape, giving Harry's cock a last, lingering tug.

He picked up Harry's briefs.

"And I'm keeping these. As a souvenir."

They exchanged a long look.

"If you want them back, once your assessment is over," Snape said at last, "you know where I live."

- fin -