Purple Prose (complimentary comment porn! Yay!)
"Purple, Potter?" Harry lifted one shoulder in a shrug as Professor Snape waved the parchment in front of his face. "You wrote your assignment in purple ink on mauve parchment, scented with lavender?"
"It's calming," Harry explained. "Lavender. Calming."
"And what," growled Snape, leaning one stained hand on the wall above Harry's head, "Makes you think that I need calming, Potter?"
Harry was trapped in the corner of Snape's office, trapped by the robes that fell in long folds from Snape's arm, trapped in the subtle scents of spices and chemicals, herbs and Potions master, trapped by the heat of the man's body and the dark and cynical passion in his eyes.
Snape smirked down at him and glanced aside at the parchment, then his eyes narrowed. "What... Potter? What is this? 'I want your wantonly throbbing cock, veined with hot purple, to rise proudly from its nest of black, curly hair and press against my willing hole...' Potter, explain this!"
"Oops.... I think I handed in the wrong parchment, Sir."
"You certainly did, Potter. I should deduct at least twenty points from Gryffindor. This is hideously over-written. Do you see purple veins or wanton throbbing here?"
Harry looked down and bit back a gasp.
"I'm afraid I do, Professor."
"Hadn't you better do something about it, then, boy, before my patience runs out?"
Harry dropped to his knees and reverently closed his fingers around the cock that peeped out from Snape's robe. When Snape spoke, his voice was just the slightest bit unsteady. "Next time, hand in the beta-ed final draft, not your rough notes. Oh yessss...." Harry was unable to reply but he rolled his eyes. Snape groaned and buried his fingers in the mop of messy black hair. The purple prose fluttered unnoticed to the floor.