Snarry-a-Thon22: FIC: Of Detentions and Perseverance Title: Of Detentions and Perseverance Author:MelindaGhost Other pairings/threesome: none Rating: NC-17 Word count: 7352 Content/Warning(s): Teacher-Student relationship, Eight year fic, detention, blowjobs, accidental voyeurism, centaur sex, unresolved sexual tension Prompt: No. 70: Harry purposely messes up in Potions to get detentions with Snape. Summary: Prompt 70: Harry purposely messes up in Potions to get detentions with Snape. Combined with a three word prompt: detention, prize, preserve. A/N: First of all, thank you to the mods for organising the thon! And also huge thanks to my beta @slythercrux for seeing what I don't see and, amongst other things, making sure I don't miss a hundred commas <3 This started out as a three word prompt and then when this thon prompt was submitted, and I saw that it fit so well with my WIP, I just had to claim it. I hope I did it justice.
Harry made sure to wait until Snape was at Neville’s cauldron – so that his own would be in Snape’s peripheral vision – until he dropped in two knife tips of powdered unicorn horn. Just as Harry had expected, his cauldron started smoking immediately.
"Potter! What have you done this time?"
He was shoved aside and then, with a small movement of Snape’s wand, his cauldron was emptied. Harry had just enough time to school his expression into one of innocent perplexion.
"I don’t know, sir. I thought I had followed the instructions to the letter."
Hermione, who was on his other side, narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. Harry didn’t look at her. He couldn’t risk her knowing that he'd done it on purpose, and especially not why. He knew he could only keep his secret from her for so long, but his plan was to keep her off his trail until he'd achieved his goal. If he ever did. Really, he knew his plan was stupid. He didn't need her confirming that.
Snape scoffed and pointed at the board. "It clearly says one knife tip of powdered unicorn horn. Perhaps we should all be glad that there were no written instructions to defeating the Dark Lord or we would all be dead. Detention, 8 o’clock today."
Amongst the snickers of some of the Slytherins, Harry sunk his head in shame and forced his voice to sound demure.
"Yes, sir."
~
Harry took a deep breath and tried to contain his nervous energy before he knocked on the heavy oak door in front of him.
"Come in," a deep voice grumbled from inside. In his eagerness, Harry promptly pressed down the handle, almost tripping over his own feet.
"You are late, Potter."
Harry knew that wasn’t true. In fact, he had made sure to be five minutes early, but he also knew it would be pointless to argue with his professor on this. So instead, he just apologised and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for further instruction.
Snape’s head was bent over his desk, hand furiously scribbling what were no doubt scathing remarks onto some poor student’s essay. The clinks of his ink bottle sounded unnaturally loud whenever he dipped his quill into it.
Harry winced, desperately hoping it wasn’t his essay. He knew he had been a bit careless in his execution and Snape already thought him particularly ineloquent. Really, all he could hope for was that Snape would be in a gracious mood when reading his three feet of vague arguments. Harry suppressed a snort. Yeah, that would never happen.
After what felt like an eternity to Harry, Snape finally laid down his quill and gestured to the worktable that had been set up. Harry noticed that some of the red ink had smeared over the fingers that pointed at a particularly disgusting looking collection of bugs.
"These beetles, Mr Potter, were hand collected by me just a few hours ago. They need to be preserved in a –"
Harry wondered, as he stared at the insects and the different jellies and sludges, whether the price he had to pay for his plan to work out was not too high. But then, Professor Snape sent him one of those glares that made his insides burn in a way no one else got them to.
"You may start now, Potter"
Harry realised that he had been staring at the man in silence for a while and felt his cheeks colour when his distracted brain processed the words.
"Yes, sir."
Harry quickly figured out that, as much as he had always complained about scrubbing cauldrons and about not knowing what kind of stuff he was getting his hands dirty with, he infinitely preferred it to this.
His robes had gotten all sorts of slime on them. He briefly considered removing them, for if Dudley’s old shirt got a few more stains on it, it would hardly matter. So he shrugged them off, pleased as he heard a cough coming from somewhere behind him where Snape was still marking, scratching the quill over the paper just a tad harder than before. Again, Harry prayed it wasn’t his. Just because he had given up his dreams of becoming an Auror after he defeated Voldemort, did not mean he didn’t need at least an E on his potion NEWTS for any of the other jobs he had since been looking into.
Harry looked over his shoulder and found dark eyes already fixed upon his form. He smiled as his professor quickly looked back at the parchment in front of him. The grip Snape had on his quill looked uncomfortably firm.
Deciding that had to be a sign in Harry’s favour, he spontaneously decided to advance his plan further.
He leaned forwards a bit more, sticking out his butt which, without the robe, was now on show. He still hadn’t bought a whole new wardrobe, but he was suddenly very glad that Hermione had at least insisted he go buy some jeans that wouldn't keep sliding down his hips. And if, according to his friend, they showed off his arse as well, who was Harry to complain?
Now, every time he kneaded some more of the preservation powder into the gelatinous mass in front of him, he let out a little grunt of exertion. Soon, Harry fancied that he wasn't the only one breathing hard.
Harry was so committed to his act, he was surprised when he was suddenly swallowed by a shadow.
"There is no need to be so aggressive with my ingredients. The beetles must not be harmed. They can only be harvested in January and need to last me at least until next year."
Harry nearly jumped at the voice that sounded much closer than he would have anticipated, but instead took all of his Gryffindor courage and asked Snape if he would like to show him how to properly handle his precious ingredients.
He practically heard Snape’s silent snarl, and had half a mind to straighten up and apologise, when robe-clad arms came round him and much bigger hands took a hold of his. Snape’s front was snuggly pressed against his backside and Harry could feel that he was hard. They both were.
As Snape moved their hands and gave Harry verbal instructions on the proper pressure to apply, all Harry could do was keep his whimpers to a minimum.
"Did you get that, Potter?"
Oh, Harry had gotten way more than he’d hoped for that day, and yet nowhere near enough. He wanted more. Another whimper escaped Harry and he nodded.
"Good."
And then for a moment, Snape pressed harder against him as he straightened himself, hands sliding over Harry’s bare arms and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then without saying another word, he pushed himself away and rushed out the door, leaving Harry alone in his classroom.
~
In the days after that memorable detention, Harry didn’t have to feign inattention in class. Where he previously put the wrong ingredients into his cauldron on purpose to earn a few hours with Snape alone, he now did it unknowingly. But Snape never seemed to care, even though he must have noticed. Harry himself only ever noticed when Hermione gave him a hard shove and an eye roll.
No matter how hard Harry tried to concentrate, his mind simply kept wandering back to Snape’s cock. How it had felt pressed against him and how he longed to lie underneath the man again, to have the hands that stroked his arm stroke Harry’s straining erection instead.
He coloured whenever he thought back on how he had sagged onto the table with a desperate moan as soon as the man had left the room. How he’d only had brainpower enough to wipe his hand on his trousers before he shoved it inside and frantically pulled his cock free. How he'd come all over the stone floor and then just kept lying on the table, hand sticky with release and his forehead covered in goo, as images of black eyes and black beetles intermittently flashed before his eyes.
Later, when Hermione asked him about his red cheeks, he would blame the heat of the cauldron.
Snape acted, in almost every way, as if nothing ever happened. The only change in behaviour was that he seemed more intent on ignoring Harry, rather than bait him as before. Harry knew he should probably be glad, but his whole intent in getting all of those detentions was getting closer to the man he had come to desire – to like, even. Now, it felt like they were further apart than before. It was laughable, really, how he would even prefer the hatred from before the war to this nothingness.
Two weeks went by with Harry messing up his potions and never getting any recognition past a zero, again. Snape never even called him by his name. Hermione questioned him again and again about what had happened, but Harry had no answer to give her. Malfoy lost a staggering 30 points for Slytherin one day when he dared to comment on the lack of punishment for Harry. It set a new record for the largest amount of points Snape had ever taken from him. It was to no one's surprise that in the next lesson, it was whatever Draco had slipped into Harry's cauldron that made it bubble over.
And Harry's concentration wasn't only affected in potions. Flitwick was extremely surprised that Harry still couldn't manage to master the bubblehead charm.
"Mr Potter, this is a sixth-year charm. I would have thought you of all people would have no problem with this." Harry had given him a tight-lipped smile and promised he’d get it right until the end of class. He hadn’t.
It was in Thursday's double transfiguration, when a professor finally had enough of his antics. The class had been tasked with transforming their partner's robes into elegant evening wear and he'd paired up with Hermione. The added difficulty of the clothes being worn was to challenge their perception of them. Clearly, McGonagall thought that anything else was beneath them at this point, but Harry would have guessed he couldn’t have done it even without the Hermione shaped obstacle in the way.
He waved his wand for the tenth time in a row, muttering the incantation half-heartedly and definitely butchering the pronunciation. And why hadn’t they ever had Latin classes anyway? Perhaps next time Hermione asked him what was up with him, he could use that as a distraction argument. Because he was slowly running out of those.
Harry wasn’t even looking at Hermione when her screech rang through the whole classroom. And then make-shift curtains appeared from out of nowhere, shielding her from his view.
"Potter, forty points from Gryffindor. Put your wand away and stay after class."
No matter how many people said they were scared of Snape, McGonagall, at that very moment, made the man look as unassuming as a newborn crup.
Harry swallowed and sat back down at the desk he shared with Hermione, then buried his head in a textbook, trying to block out any of his classmates’ curious looks and McGonagall's silent fury.
It turned out, instead of turning Hermione’s robes into a sparkling gown he had turned them into somewhat transparent and very frilly sleepwear. Harry thanked the heavens that McGonagall had had the forethought of putting that curtain charm over the room before class. And yet, knowing that Harry probably wasn't the first to mess things up only made him feel marginally better.
The rest of class trickled by slowly and yet, when Harry thought of the talk he was going to have with his head of house, it felt like merely a few minutes. When a soft chime finally announced the end of class, Hermione hurriedly packed up her bag and was one of the first out the door. She hadn't looked at Harry once since she'd been reassigned to another group.
Harry waited till everyone was gone until he dragged himself out of his seat and over to McGonagall’s desk. Her stern expression didn't soften when they were alone and a part of Harry was weirdly sad about that.
"Mr Potter, your behaviour in the last weeks has been utterly insupportable."
Harry knew he looked dejected. He hadn’t really cared about much except Snape’s rejection of him for the last two weeks, but disappointing his Head of House stung unexpectedly deep. Probably, because next to Molly Weasley, she was the closest thing to a mother figure Harry’d ever had. "I know, Professor. I’m sorry."
She sighed deeply and the frown lines on her face softened almost imperceptibly. "Is there anything wrong, Mr Potter? This isn’t like you." There was a hint of concern in her voice that made Harry feel guilty. Being rejected by someone you liked wasn't the end of the world and it was true, he was not usually one for being mopey. He was a fighter through and through.
Harry rolled his shoulders back and straightened his glasses. "No, Professor. I'm just having a bad week. It won’t happen again."
McGonagall stared at him for just long enough to make him fidgety. Had anyone ever mentioned whether she was a legilimens? Then she nodded.
"Alright, but Potter I still have to dish out punishment. Detention tonight after sundown. However, I am already busy for the day and Filch has quite enough hands to clean the trophy room for him, so you will be serving it with Professor Snape instead." Here she gave him a mischievous grin and Harry pulled a face that hopefully didn’t give away any of his true feelings.
"He mentioned being a little tired from harvesting all the ingredients but will be out again today anyway. Having your help should make it go quicker. And maybe the exercise will lift your spirits, Potter."
At this, Harry gave her a real smile and watched as the corners of her mouth turned up. With a final remark to reconsider joining the Quidditch team for the rest of the year, she waved him off.
This detention was exactly the opportunity Harry needed. He would wait at the edge of the forest for Snape and then the man would have no way of ignoring him. He needed the help after all, and who knew how many times Harry needed to be told or shown the correct way to uproot asphodel.
~
Harry had left his robes behind on purpose, opting instead for a somewhat fitting green jumper. He was already beginning to regret it before Snape even showed up. He was sure his nose was redder than that of any clown. Fitting, his inner voice told him, you are acting like one.
"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing here? Get back inside."
It took Harry a few moments to realise that wasn’t his inner voice talking to him. He blinked up at Snape’s frowning face. Well, at least the man wasn't ignoring him anymore.
"Sorry, sir, but I can’t do that. I’m here to serve detention," Harry stopped for a moment to give Severus enough time to snort and roll his eyes. Then he grinned up at the man, "with you."
Snape’s shoulders tensed and Harry noticed he took a half step backwards. "Absolutely not. It’s the full moon tonight."
Harry nodded eagerly. He had congratulated himself on his luck when he'd noticed that.
"I know, there must be loads of mushrooms and knolls and grasses to harvest today. Besides, there aren’t any werewolves in the forest. We both know that." Harry bent down to pick up the basket he had dropped behind him.
Snape let out a long sigh and when Harry looked at him, quickly redirected his gaze towards the forest. "I’m not worried about the wolves," Snape mumbled and then louder said, "I don’t suppose you can just tell whoever sent you here you’ve done everything in your power and go back to your dormitory?"
"I think Professor McGonagall would look right through me, sir." Harry didn’t even try to hide his grin or sound regretful.
With another huff and what to Harry sounded like a semi-serious threat to kill that old cat, Snape stomped off into the forest with all his usual elegance and bitterness. Harry diligently followed him.
~
After an hour of bending over to cut this grass and that mushroom and those roots, Harry's back was an aching slab of unbending stone. He groaned in pain as he bent down to get another tuft of some wild herb he'd forgotten the name of.
"For Merlin's sake, Potter. Get on your knees!"
Harry could hear the eye-roll in the scoff that followed and for a second he had half a mind to be embarrassed or tell Snape to get lost, but the deep gruff voice ordering him on his knees had him gulp and sink to the ground without any resistance.
"Yes, sir," Harry said in a half-whisper.
He didn't know if Snape had heard him. There was no reply and when he turned around to look at him his Professor had dived into the shadow of the trees, leaving Harry guessing.
A short while later, they were walking, Harry knew, towards one of the many clearings of the forest. He listened to Snape's deep voice explaining about Moonflowers and White Yarrow, trying to retain enough information to not ruin any of those fragile ingredients. But his half-hard cock that had jumped to life as he had fallen to his knees was making it very difficult to focus on the words rather than the deep tones that voiced them.
As it were, it took Harry a few steps to fully notice that Snape had stopped walking and before he could step in front of him into the clearing, a strong hand grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him behind a big yew tree. Another hand wisely came up to curl itself over Harry's mouth to stop him from crying out.
Harry, breathing hard and with adrenaline pumping through his veins, stared up at Snape whose eyes were fixed on something in the clearing. And then Harry heard the hooves. If those were centaurs over there, Snape might have once again saved his life. Ever since his last narrow escape from the resident centaurs, Harry and Hermione were sure they were on some sort of special enemy list.
The hooves came closer and Harry knew that any attempt to flee now would be in vain. They would be heard and even if Firenze had still been a part of the herd, he wouldn't have been able to talk the others into letting them go.
Slowly, Harry grabbed Snape's arm in an effort to pull his hand away from his mouth. Black eyes, that seemed much more expressive than usual, met his. Surprise was the most prominent emotion behind them. Fear, or at least a healthy amount of respect, seemed a close second. But there was something else there that Harry couldn't quite place.
A tiny spark of hope grew in Harry's stomach. He knew what he wanted it to mean but Harry also remembered that there had been no indication that Snape felt the same way about him, so he tried to push that hope down. He would continue to try, of course, but he had seen what misplaced hope led to.
Snape's hand stayed firmly in place and Harry sighed inaudibly. He tried to signal Snape that he understood and that he wouldn't talk, but the man was once again peeking out from their hiding spot, completely focussed on the centaurs and paying no mind to him. After a bit, Harry felt the hand on his arm loosening and used that as an opportunity to wiggle out of Snape's grasp and turn around as well.
In the middle of the clearing, bathed in the light of the full moon, stood five male centaurs in a half circle; another one kneeled on his front legs before them. Harry thought he recognised the latter as Firenze.
Harry scooted closer to the tree when Bane took a step forward. Snape, too, retreated further into the shade, ending up pressed against Harry's back.
"Are you ready to undergo the ancient ritual, to serve every male of the hoard, to give up your body to our pleasure, to be re-introduced as a full member?"
Harry gasped and shuffled his feet as Bane's words registered in his mind. Surely they didn't mean what he thought they meant, right? But the sharp intake of breath from Snape told him that they were about to witness exactly what Bane's words had suggested. Harry fidgeted again, not quite sure how he was supposed to act in this situation and a little more intrigued by it than was proper.
A twig cracked underneath his foot and the two centaurs closest to them snapped their heads in their direction. Immediately, Snape pressed closer again and whispered directly into his ear. Don't you dare move again, Potter. We can't escape them now; we have to stay hidden. Harry swallowed, but followed Snape's orders and stayed stock still. The centaurs looked back at Firenze, apparently deciding the sound must have come from one of the wood animals.
"Yes, I am ready to be one of you again."
To Harry, it looked like Bane was taking his time, judging whether or not he really wanted Firenze back. But when Harry's gaze drifted down the human torso, and further still to the horse's body Harry saw that Bane's cock was already peeking out of its sheath. He nearly gasped at the size of it. With a cock that big, it was no wonder that it seemed to have an impact on the centaur's decision making.
The two centaurs at the ends now stepped forward. They were carrying wooden bowls containing a thick, yellowish paste that Harry guessed to be some sort of lube.
"While they get you ready, you are to suck me."
Harry sucked in a breath as Bane reared up, placing his front hooves on a nearby rock and shoving his now fully erect cock directly into Firenze's face.
The tree behind which Harry and Snape were hiding was situated to give them the perfect side view as Firenze licked and sucked at Bane's cock while the two with the lube moved to stand behind him. They coated their hands and rubbed them over Firenze's hind flank, moving closer and closer to his crack. Firenze swooshed his tail to the side and let out a moan as the digits of the other stallions entered him.
Harry could feel his own trousers get tighter. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear his gaze away from Firenze, not even to check how Snape was faring with all of this. Although, the out of character fidgeting and light panting gave him a rough idea. And the thought that Snape was just as affected by this sight as Harry himself, made his cock stiffen fully.
They could hear Bane groan and huff as Firenze took in as much of his cock as possible and Harry had to bite down on his lip again to stop any sounds from slipping out of his mouth. Soon, Firenze started bobbing his head in earnest, wiggling his hind at the same time to encourage the hands to plough deeper into him. Moaning as not only one but two hands fully disappeared inside of him.
Harry was equal parts amazed and shocked. Rationally, he knew that as part horse, they'd naturally have a bigger opening to work with – he could see the enormous size of the herd's erections and they had to fit somehow after all. Still, he couldn't help but wince, even as his cock twitched in excitement.
With a cry, Bane came in Firenze's mouth. Harry could see his throat working to swallow as much cum as possible, but it was too much and he choked. Bane pulled his still stiff shaft out of the kneeling centaur's mouth and Harry almost choked on a breath when another thick rope of cum spurted out of it, decorating Firenze's face. The white substance gleamed prettily in the moonlight, perfectly contrasting the bronze skin underneath.
"You may mount him now."
Harry hadn't realised before that the other centaurs were waiting for Bane's permission. In a matter of seconds, they pulled out their hands and then one claimed Bane's abandoned spot as the other stepped forward to climb Firenze and align his massive erection with his hole. The other two were waiting impatiently for their turn; their cocks already leaking precum onto the grass.
Snape's breaths were coming in quicker and Harry didn't only hear it, he felt every hot exhale as it breezed past his ear and down the back of his neck. The hot air was a welcome touch in the cold forest and Harry let out a quiet whimper as his resolve to not touch himself fell away. The sight in front of them mixed with the heat of Snape's body behind him was too good to ignore.
He pushed himself further away from the tree, closer to Snape, to give himself enough space to press a hand to his straining erection. Immediately, Snape's hands shot down to his waist, holding Harry in place and pausing as if he was unsure about whether to push Harry away or pull him closer.
The moans and groans from the centaur herd gave Harry enough cover to chance another slightly louder whimper of his own. The fingers on his hips squeezed tighter and the decision was made. Snape pulled Harry's arse flush against him. Harry's face and left arm were pressed against the tree trunk, in an effort to keep him on his feet. The bark felt rough against his smooth cheek and palm, but he didn't care. All he could think about was the hard cock that was pressing firmly into his backside.
Leisurely, Snape started to move against him. Harry moaned, trying to encourage him to move faster, to rut harder. They heard Firenze cry out. Half of Harry's vision was now obscured by yew bark, but he wasn't able to concentrate on all the happenings in the clearing anymore anyway.
All that he noticed was that the slapping and groaning from the centaurs got louder and more consistent. The friction of Snape's cock against Harry's arse was delicious, but not enough. He could almost feel the hotness of the erection through all their layers of clothing. Harry's own hand was still pressed against his erection. In the surprise of the moment, he had all but forgotten about it, but as his desire grew and it twitched in his hand, he began stroking it in time with Snapes thrusts.
It was good, and for a few minutes, it was enough. But the coupling in the clearing got more frantic and the sounds spiked the lust in the pit of Harry's stomach. He had lost count of how many stallions had mounted Firenze and pumped his arse full of their cum. The only thing Harry was fully aware of was Snape finally speeding up his own thrusts. The grip on his hips became brutal and he was increasingly frustrated with the amount of clothing they were still wearing.
Harry wanted more, he needed more. He took his left hand from the tree to open his trousers. He did not have enough presence of mind left to think about how supporting his whole body with his face pressed against the tree would surely leave him with bruises. Not that he would have cared much either way.
A loud groan sounded from their hiding spot as his pants fell to the floor and Harry's hand wrapped around his exposed prick. Only when a second hand swatted his own away and started pumping in the same rhythm as the thrusts, did Harry realise that it wasn't him who had made the sound. His eyes found Firenze again. None of the centaurs had moved from their positions as their own exclamations had drowned out Snape's.
Harry came after what felt like only seconds of Snape's hand on him. The sensation of scratchy fabric against his arse cheeks and the big, rough hand on his cock, pulled him over the edge. He closed his eyes and almost screamed as his cum sprayed against the bark, the last drops of it running down his shaft and collecting on Snape's fingers. Only a few thrusts later, Snape came too, his teeth biting firmly into Harry's shoulder to prevent his own outcry. Then his body sagged against Harry's.
There was another cry and then, silence. Harry presumed the other group was done as well, but he had his eyes closed and even though his cheek was already sore and the added weight of Snape was scratching it up even more, he was too comfortable to move.
But Snape seemed to have other plans. After a minute of rest, when his breathing had returned to normal, he stepped away from Harry. Harry felt a sparkle of magic as the cleaning spell rolled first over Snape and then over his own body.
Still feeling dazed and with a goofy smile, Harry turned around. He didn’t know what he had expected to see on Snape’s face, but it wasn’t the look of utter hatred and repulsion that he was met with. Snape glanced down at Harry’s body, curling his lip in disgust as his eyes fell on Harry’s flaccid cock that was still hanging out of his trousers.
Harry refused to look ashamed as he tucked himself away. Damn Snape! He'd started all of this and now he wanted to treat Harry like some cheap whore? Who the fuck did he think he was? The fucking Prince of England? Harry snorted and Snape raised an eyebrow, then looked past Harry into the clearing and without a word, turned around to walk back towards the castle. Their baskets of ingredients swung animatedly on his arm; some of the funghi looked dangerously close to falling back to the ground.
Harry quickly checked the clearing as well; the centaurs were all gone and it looked as if nothing untoward had ever happened there. The moonlight basked the whole area in an innocent glow and Harry finally felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment. Was Snape going to throw him away and act like nothing ever happened again? Would they be like this clearing?
With hurried steps, he rushed after Snape but the man always took care to stay a few paces ahead of him. With a scoff, Harry let himself fall behind some more. When he reached the edge of the forest, Snape was already halfway to the main entrance.
The light in Hagrid’s hut was still on and for a few seconds, Harry contemplated visiting his friend, but as he was confident the happenings of the last hour were still brand-marked onto his face, he decided against it. Instead, Harry slowly made his way back to the castle and hardly even noticed when he reached the portrait of the fat lady.
"Password?"
"Servata caritate."
~
Yet again, things went back to how they were before their last encounter. Harry messed up his potions and Snape vanished them without so much as a word. At this point, the zero, again had been replaced with a single raise of the eyebrow. He never met Harry’s eyes and Harry didn't need to feign annoyance at Snape’s act because he was truly and utterly pissed off. Harry had told himself to give it some time, to give Snape some time to process what happened and approach him, but enough was enough.
Harry didn’t even bother to knock on the door. It was Snape’s official office hours and it stood mostly open anyway. He just burst in, steps unnecessarily loud and portraying just how angry he really was. Snape, the bastard, did not even look up from his papers. Harry felt his face twitch and he wasn’t sure who he was angrier at: Snape for practically buggering him and then pretending he didn’t exist, or at himself for being so disappointed by it.
With a wave of his wand, the door slammed shut. "Muffliato."
That caught Snape’s attention, but he still kept his head down and Harry could feel his anger rise some more. Something was tugging at his heartstrings, but he ignored that as best he could. "At least look at me, God Damnit!" he snapped.
Snape snorted but complied, black eyes looking straight into his but Harry couldn't see any emotion in them. They didn’t sparkle with the usual hatred, they almost seemed dull. If anyone could ever use that to describe anything to do with Severus Snape.
"That tone doesn’t suit you, Mr Potter."
There was a certain note of resignation in his voice that nearly made Harry falter, but he shook his head and stomped over to the desk.
Snape picked up one of his papers and redirected his gaze to it, but Harry snatched it from his grasp. "Oh, no. You won’t ignore me any longer! I want you to finally talk to me like an adult."
Snape’s head snapped up, his voice was tight as he asked. "Talk to you like an adult and face the consequences of what I did? Is that what you want from me, Potter?"
"Yes!" Harry screamed, then frowned. "Wait, what do you mean –"
Snape rose out of his chair, not letting Harry finish. His expression, Harry could see now, spoke of pain. Was it possible that Harry was missing something big here? Was the disdain not meant for him?
"I have abused my position of power over you and I shall hand in my letter of resignation immediately. If you would prefer –"
Harry rounded Snape’s desk, blocking his way out. "I don’t want you to quit." Harry was confused. He thought it was obvious what he wanted.
Snape laughed bitterly. "Yes, you do, Potter. I practically forced myself on you."
Harry felt his eyes widen. "No, you didn’t," he took a few steps forward, forcing Snape to sit back down in his chair, "I’m pretty sure it didn’t escape your notice that I was very much a willing partner in all that. I came all over your hand, for Merlin’s sake."
He had never seen Snape flinch at anything before, but Harry's words seemed to disturb him greatly.
"I started it, and I shouldn’t have. You are young. You just got caught up in the situation and the," he gulped and refused to meet Harry's eyes, "stimulation of the spectacle in the clearing. You would have never acted like that on your own."
Harry laughed. He wanted to slap that look of resignation off of Snape and at the same time, he wanted to kiss him silly. Who knew Snape would have such high notions of Harry’s innocence.
The dark eyes snapped to his own and the frown deepened. "This is not funny, Mr Potter. I have committed a serious crime. You are my student and –"
"– And I’ve been of age for a year."
"That doesn’t change anything." The desperation in his voice was so out of character that Harry nearly gave in just to try and ease it.
"Yes, it does. And you know it. Look… if you don’t want me then that’s fine. Well, I don’t like it, but you know what I mean – What?"
Snape looked at him with slanted eyes. "Don’t fish for compliments, Potter."
Harry leaned down, grabbing both armrests of Snape’s chair. "So you do like me then?" He grinned, but quickly schooled his expression into a more serious one. If he wanted this, he needed to convince Snape that he hadn’t done anything wrong. If anything, the only wrong thing was not actually buggering Harry against that tree.
"Potter…" Snape gulped, and was that a hint of genuine fear in his voice? Harry knelt down before him.
Harry quickly scanned Snape's whole appearance. His hands were bunched into fists at his side and he looked as if he was fighting a battle within himself. Harry's eyes stayed on the very obvious bulge for a long moment and then moved back to look into those pleading dark eyes. Harry swallowed; even in the forest, they hadn't been so open to him.
"Let me show you how much I want this – how much I want you," he whispered and there was an urgency to it that Snape couldn’t deny.
Slowly, as if he was approaching a wounded animal, Harry slid his hands from the armrest down to Snape’s knees. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as he pushed those slim legs apart.
Harry let out a tiny moan of appreciation himself as he stroked the firm muscle of Snape’s thighs; his thumb moving in circles, trying to relax the man into easier submission.
Snape closed his eyes as Harry’s hands continued their way up. Harry wanted to take his time and explore the man further, but his own teenage hormones and the uncertainty of the situation – the possibility of being kicked out any second – made him hurry up.
A low, choked sound escaped the back of Snape’s throat as Harry's fingers fumbled with his belt. Harry was clumsy. He kept watching Snape’s face for any sign that he should stop what he was doing, but while Snape wasn’t verbally encouraging him, his face certainly was.
Snape’s eyes fluttered close as the zipper finally came undone. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and Harry let out a grunt at the sight of the willing cock slapping onto Snape’s fully clothed stomach. There was something about them still being dressed that excited Harry further. It made him feel as if this was a forbidden tryst neither of them could resist. Because that was exactly what this was. Harry always had a thing for breaking the rules. He ignored the tug at his heartstrings that wanted to remind him that this was about more than simply breaking the rules.
Harry’s own cock was pressing almost painfully against his jeans, and he slid his left hand down to try and adjust it; to give it more space. But he was so hard that this touch was enough to make him whimper, so he spelled his trousers open instead.
His hands went back to the man in front of him. Snape was breathing hard and, although lines of hesitation still framed his face, his eyes spoke of nothing but passion and desire. The pupils were blown so wide that his eyes looked truly black. Harry swallowed as a sudden shyness overcame him. He didn’t really have a clue how to go about this. Then again, Snape hadn’t seemed to mind his inexperience so far.
He grabbed the shaft, tentatively at first, encouraged by the hum that the first skin on skin contract drew from Snape. Harry had thought about doing this often. At night alone in his bed, in the Great Hall when he was taking great pains not to look in anyone’s eyes, and during Potions class as he calculated the best way to screw up his potion so he would end up in detention.
His grip tightened and Snape’s hips gave an involuntary thrust. Harry smiled at him, tongue coming out to wet his dry lips. He licked them a second time when he saw that the sight made Snape swallow.
"Yo – you don’t have to…" Snape panted.
Harry rolled his eyes and bent forward, lips finally sealing themselves around the leaking head.
"Oh, fuck."
It was more of an open-mouthed kiss at first. Precum rolled onto Harry’s tongue; it was salty and tangy and he decided he liked the taste of it. He swirled his tongue over the slit to collect some more and let it dissolve on his tongue before he took the whole head in his mouth.
Snape groaned and his cock twitched between Harry's lips. Encouraged, Harry slid more of him into his mouth. Snape's hands clenched into Harry's hair and his hips bucked up, thrusting Snape's cock even further into Harry's mouth and making him choke.
Instantly, Snape tried to pull Harry off him, apologies rolling from his lips, but Harry shook his hands away. He was a fast learner when he wanted to be. His own hands went back to Snape's hips and pressed them firmly into the chair.
The slobbery sounds of his mouth bobbing up and down, and occasionally popping off the head to lick at the slit and play with the foreskin, were incredibly loud in the otherwise quiet dungeon office. Snape's lip was trapped underneath his crooked teeth.
With a loud plop, Harry let off of him, grabbing the base of Snape's cock and giving it a squeeze. Snape's head fell back against his chair and his lips finally parted in a groan.
"Mhm… That's better. I wanna hear you."
Snape's eyes were completely enthralling. Harry kept staring straight into them, enjoying that for once he could read him like an open book. As he went back to bobbing his head on Snape's rock hard cock, Snape's hands found their way back into Harry's hair, this time encouraging him to take his cock deeper instead of pulling him off.
Harry's own hands moved from Snape's hips to his own, fumbling to free his erection from his boxers. He moaned as his hot flesh was finally exposed to the cool dungeon air.
Snape groaned and writhed again as Harry's moan vibrated around his cock, and this time Harry didn't even flinch when the head of it pressed against the back of his throat. Instead, he let out another prolonged moan, feeling his throat constrict around the cock and pushing out his tongue to lick at Snape's balls. Harry's own cock twitched violently, almost ready to burst without ever having been touched.
With a final thrust, Snape came down Harry's throat, Harry's name falling from his tongue repeatedly. Harry attempted to swallow, but it was too much and in his haste, he choked again. Snape, even in his post-orgasmic bliss, was quick to pull out of his mouth and this time Harry let him. The tug on his hair was what pushed Harry over the edge as well.
After they had collected themselves a little and Harry's coughs had subsided, Harry smiled up at the man, cum still dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He already missed the weight of Snape’s cock on his tongue. He licked his lips and saw another burst of flames enter Snape’s eyes. Merlin, Harry hoped the man would not regret any of this in the morning.
~
Harry wiped the sweat from his brow before he leaned over his cauldron. His shoulders were tense and he had been on edge the whole lesson, yet the potion so far was exactly the right shade and smell. It made him irrationally proud and for a few seconds, he paused with the wrong ground beetle in hand, debating whether he really wanted to fuck it up again.
A sharp elbow hit him in the side, and the decision was made for him as his grip loosened and the scarab fell into the night blue potion. It didn't have time to do more than bubble ominously before it all vanished.
"I see you are still planning on killing us all, after all. Detention tonight at 8, Potter. Don’t be late." Snape drawled from right beside him and Harry worked to suppress a smile.
His shoulders relaxed as a pleasant tingling went through him. He did not trust himself to look up as he replied. Yes, sir.