Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Anyone But Him	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 14815 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 1-Anyone But Him
- 1
A/N: I wanted this out for Valentine's Day, but some bad shit in my personal life hindered the writing process a teensy bit. Anyway, I thought it was kind of depressing how few Snarry Amortentia fics there were, so I figured I'd write one in honour of Singles Awareness Day. I hope you guys enjoy it! (This fic also serves as me trying to improve my dirty talk, you guys tell me if I managed it or failed abysmally.)

~*~ = POV switch.

This is a No-Voldemort AU wherein Sirius has raised Harry, but Sirius doesn't show up in this fic, save for a vague mention of him.
Edited and reposted 02/03/2k17 because I noticed a shitload of typos and mistakes.
Anyone But Him

Severus hated N.E.W.T students.

So near to leaving Hogwarts forever, and they all suddenly think that they're master potioneers.

This preconception has lead to many a nasty accident, none so ghastly as Toby Collins, who had spilled a multiplier potion all over himself and wound up with fourteen arms, three heads, and no genitalia.

Seven years had passed since that incident, and Minerva had yet to get tired of the 'need a hand?' puns.

Severus, on the other hand, found it nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't cursed her for it yet.

Above all however, Severus absolutely dreaded the brewing of Amortentia.

Why it was still part of the curriculum was a mystery, and despite his every effort to get rid of it, the Board of Governors insisted that it was an important potion to teach. Severus had yet to work out how they had come to such a ridiculous decision.

It was a small mercy that Longbottom was no longer taking Potions—he couldn't imagine the disasters that young man invoke when presented with brewing such a complex and dangerous potion.

Longbottom, for once, was the least of his worries.

Most unfortunately, Severus had put off making his students brew the potion for too long, and coming up on Valentine's Day, he was politely ordered by the Headmaster to get on with it. This meant that it was very likely that his students would be even more keen to try and steal a sample to dose their intended significant others with.

Merlin help us all.

~*~

“Ronald, would you hurry up?” Hermione snapped, and Harry snorted a little as he stood by and watched the pair. Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione, and crammed a huge forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “We're going to be late, and I'd rather not be yelled at by Professor Snape.”

“'elax er-my-knee,” he said thickly, while he effectively sprayed his girlfriend with bits of egg. She let out a noise of disgust and used her wand to clean herself up. He swallowed thickly and chased it down with some coffee before he spoke again, “we've still got twenty minutes. If you're so paranoid about being late just go ahead and we'll catch up. It's not like I'm exactly looking forward to a double-period of Potions with the Slytherins.”

“You know, after everything, I would think that you'd show a little more acceptance to...certain other houses...” Hermione began, but Harry snorted, cutting her off.

“Just because we're seventh years doesn't mean we're suddenly obligated to be nice to the Slytherins,” Harry said, exchanging a glare with Malfoy as he swept past with Crabbe and Goyle.

“They've been loads better this year and you know it,” Hermione protested, but when Harry and Ron both ignored her statement, she huffed with frustration and hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Oh, I give up, just don't doddle too long, or you'll lose us all the points McGonagall gave me for knowing about Elemental Transfiguration.” Without another word, Hermione stalked off.

“You know, if you keep baiting her like that, one of these days she will break it off with you,” Harry said, and Ron rolled his eyes.

“I wasn't baiting her, I'm not that stupid,” he replied as he stuffed his last sausage into his mouth and stood up. “She's just...a bit overly keen this year, don't you think?

“I think she's a little stressed about the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's actually enjoying all the extra work the professors are loading us with,” Harry replied with a snort, while Ron barked a laugh.

“Well there's no need to be that keen with Potions,” Ron said as they began to make their way toward the dungeons, “Snape's still a git.”

“Some things never change,” Harry said, and Ron snorted just as they reached the classroom and rejoined Hermione at the back, sitting down just as Snape swept in the room, looking in an even worse mood than usual.

“Today we will begin brewing one of the most volatile and dangerous potions known today,” the Potions Master said, biting out his words so sharply that it seemed as though speaking them was causing him physical pain. In spite of Harry's history with the man, he couldn't help but lean forward curiously at his words. If the potion was so dangerous, why were they making it? Snape flicked his wand sharply, and the day's potion appeared on the board.

Amortentia

“The love potion?” Malfoy called out with a derisive snort, “how on earth is a love potion dangerous?”

“When brewed correctly, Mr Malfoy, this potion will create obsession, not true love,” Snape replied sourly, “it is based on what attracts us most, and those under a love potion can become dangerous—and many case studies of people under the thrall of Amortentia end up killing in the name of love.

“This potion will take a month to brew, and you will begin today,” Snape continued when Malfoy offered up no response to Snape's explanation. “Your potions will be kept behind a very powerful Shield Charm while it stews. If I catch anyone sneaking into this classroom in an effort to steal even so much as a thimbleful of potion, you will spend your evenings with Mr Filch for the remainder of the school year. No, Miss Parkinson, I am not exaggerating. Begin.”

With the multitude of threats hanging over their heads, and with an almighty scrape of wooden benches against the stone, the class got up and made for the store cupboards.

~*~

Severus sat at his desk and watched his students with hawklike attentiveness. The class slowly trickled back to their seats from the store cupboards, and Severus turned his attention to a stack of essays that needed to be graded. For the first twenty minutes, there was nothing in particular to oversee too closely, and he did not feel the need to be overly cautious anymore—now that Longbottom had thankfully not returned to his class.

Severus waited until the sound of the low simmer of over a dozen cauldrons filled the dungeon before he stood and began his rounds. Most of the girls seemed much more intent on getting the potion right than the boys did—though Granger, as an insufferable know-it-all, did not count—and observed his students thinly slicing ginger root, crushing lobster claws, evenly sprinkling powdered rose petals and rhinoceros horn over the brew—he was surprised at the ease in which most of his students seem to have with the preparation of such a difficult potion—even Potter had managed something passable, which was a surprise.

“You will clearly mark your names on your cauldrons,” Severus called out to the class as the double-period came to a close, “and arrange them at the back of the classroom. They need to stew under this week's full moon, and you will recommence in brewing next Tuesday. Dismissed.”

Severus stood and watched the students one by one transfer their cauldrons to the back of the room, and pointedly cast the warding wordlessly over the cauldrons. He watched with a sort of vindictive glee as the hopeful expressions of many of the young girls fell, and they all shuffled out of the dungeon in clumps of their own little cliques.

A peaceful silence fell over his classroom, and he glared at the line of cauldrons at the back of the room.

Today had been nothing. A week from now, after the potions had had a chance to brew, the potion would begin to exude the allure it was best known for, in the form of enticing scents.

Severus hadn't found himself dreading a lesson so much in a very long time.

~*~

The week passed uneventfully for Harry.

Without the threat of dark wizards, basilisks, or deadly tournaments hanging over his head, his school life had gotten dreadfully dull. At times, Harry found himself rather missing the chaos—at least getting nearly killed every other week broke up the monotony of homework and letters from his godfather.

Tuesday morning he wound his way down to the dungeons with Hermione and Ron, and the moment they crossed into the dungeon classroom, he choked.

“Good God, what is that smell?” Harry demanded, and brought the sleeve of his robe up to his nose.

“What smell?” Hermione asked, blinking at him bemusedly.

“That smell!” Harry gesticulated wildly as he spoke. How could they not smell it? “Like...like...sandalwood and pickling brine and charcoal ink...” Harry wrinkled his nose. The smells themselves weren't what one might consider awful, but something about them made his skin crawl.

“Mate, all I smell is our love potions,” Ron said, still staring at Harry with confusion as they took their seats.

“Maybe you're pregnant,” Hermione joked, and both Ron and Harry stared at her. “Pregnant women are known to react badly to random smells and tastes,” she explained, and both boys snorted.

“That must be it,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Ron, I do hope you'll be good to our little one,” he placed a hand against his abdomen, “promise you won't call him or her Whoops.”

Ron's ears went red, while Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles. Harry grinned at his best mate, and the ginger grinned, shaking his head, and he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “shut up, Harry.”

At that moment, Snape swept into the classroom, looking even more ill-tempered than he had last week. The class fell silent at once, and he tapped the board sharply with his wand, the instructions for the day appearing there instantly.

“You will continue with your potions today,” he said tersely, his nostrils flaring, “ingredients you need are in the store cupboard,” he flicked his wand again, and the cupboard burst open so violently that the door swung around on its hinges, and the knob bounced off the stone sharply. “Begin.”

Half of the class made their way to the back of the room to collect their potions, while the other half made for the store cupboard. Harry had chosen to get his cauldron first, which he almost immediately regretted. The smell became even stronger the closer he got to the back of the classroom, and the scent was beginning to make his head ache.

Harry held his breath as he picked up his cauldron and hurried back to his desk, but the longer the smell invaded his senses, he picked up other scents intermingled with the first three—notes of some sort of aged spirit, dark chocolate, and the faintest hint of tobacco. Harry couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.

“I thought Amortentia is supposed to smell like things that attract you,” Harry grumbled as he set down his cauldron and adjusted the flame beneath it, and Hermione pushed over his share of the ingredients he'd need to continue, “not the other way round.” At his words, Hermione leant in and took an almighty whiff.

“Smells fine to me, Harry,” she said, then Ron circled around her and took his own turn.

“Yeah, I don't see anything wrong with it either,” Ron added, “maybe you've got a migraine? I had one of them once and any strong smell made my head feel like it was cracked open.”

“Maybe...” Harry stared into the bubbling concoction doubtfully, then consulted the instructions on the board before he grabbed the oyster shells as well as his mortar and pestle, and began to crush them.

~*~

It is very likely that I will decimate my reputation by losing the contents of my stomach in front of my students if this keeps up... Severus thought sourly as he swept through the aisles of desks, observing his students at work. The scent of Amortentia had never bothered him so much before, and now the aroma made him feel both nauseated and particularly irritated. Since when did Amortentia smell like broom polish and cedarwood to me? He wondered, his jaw set and teeth gritted, with his hands locked behind his back in an effort to keep them off his wand, and thus avoiding cursing all the students in front of him.

Severus paused by Potter's cauldron and he could see the young man freeze, his gaze flicking up to meet his. Most unfortunately, the potion was surprisingly near-perfect, and he could find nothing about it to criticize, and swept away again before he gave in to the temptation to deduct points from Gryffindor for Potter's mere existence. Merlin help him, even when Potter was doing nothing he was a nuisance.

At the end of the lesson, the students once more transported their cauldrons to the back of the room, and Severus set up the usual protection charms. At the same time, Severus had hit his limit on putting up with the horrid smell, and did something he almost never did in the presence of his students, and withdrew his odour-trapping incense to dispel the smell.

“What's that, sir?” Malfoy asked curiously as the class had begun to leave, he pausing near the doors as he eyed the small iron bowl curiously.

“It is my sandalwood incense, Mr Malfoy,” he replied simply, “I use it to clear potion fumes.” No need to explain to the young man that it was the scent of this particular potion was driving him round the bend, but the explanation seemed to satisfy the young aristocrat, and he rejoined his friends as they headed out. Potter, for some strange reason, had frozen dead in his tracks and was staring at Severus with a look of abject horror upon his face. Severus waited, but even with his two friends trying to get his attention, Potter did not move.

“Is there something you need, Mr Potter, or is this your latest doddling technique for showing up late to your next lesson?”

Potter went very red and seemed to snap out of his state of shock(though Severus was still uncertain what had caused it in the first place), and with a quick shake of his head he turned and hurried out of the classroom.

In that simple action however, the scent of Potter's cologne hit his nose, and Severus quickly sat down before he sunk to the floor in a dead faint.

Cedarwood.

~*~

It was difficult to avoid Ron and Hermione's questioning stares as they ascended to the Great Hall for lunch.

Snape.

Why was his sodding potion smelling like things related to Severus effing Snape, the one professor in the entire school who seemed to get off on tormenting him and making his life hell? Was he simply a glutton for punishment?

Not to mention the age gap, and he's my professor, and this is just so wrong... Harry thought in a hazy panic. No, wait. I was never great shakes at Potions anyway, so maybe I just cocked it up and I made an anti-love potion. Yeah, that has to be it. There was no other explanation that Harry could come up with that made any sense, and though he was still highly unnerved, the train of though did make him feel marginally better.

The trio reached the Great Hall, and Harry was quick to pile his plate high with food and crammed a large mouthful of shepherd's pie into his mouth to avoid talking with Hermione, who clearly wanted to ask what was wrong.

Despite the thin reassurance his thoughts had offered him, he was still deeply unnerved by the implication that his love potion smelled of all the things that reminded Harry of his potions professor—and even a few things that didn't.

~*~

Severus paced in his study, his teeth gritted so hard that it was a miracle that they hadn't shattered.

Potter! He thought angrily, son of my postmortem enemy! Why does that infernal potion smell of all things relating to that brat?

Severus paused to grab a tiny bottle of essence of linseed and threw it as hard as he could into the fire grate. He heard the glass break, and the fire flared most satisfyingly, but it did not make him feel any better.

“Potter, Potter, Potter,” Severus snarled under his breath, “why does it always come back to Harry fucking Potter?”

The walls did not answer him—they rarely did. He spun on his heel and stormed off to his private dining area, in no mood to see his apparent 'love'.

~*~

“Harry, are you sure you're all right?”

Harry turned to Hermione, frowning, but his mildly irritated expression did not dampen her look of concern at all.

“I'm fine. This is the fifth time you've asked me that; is there a particular reason why you're acting like you've been hit with a Babbling Hex or something?” Harry asked, arching a brow, while he slowly turned the page of his Charms text pointedly, but Hermione was undeterred.

“Harry, you've been acting very odd since lunch,” she said, “I'm just worried, that's all.”

“Mate, she's right,” Ron chimed in, and Harry bit back a soft groan. “You looked like someone hit you in the face with a shovel at the end of Potions.”

“Did Snape say something to you?” Hermione asked, but Harry shook his head quickly, and buried his nose in the textbook—the last thing he needed was for his whole face to go beet-red at the mention of his loathed professor.

“Look, I'm fine, now would you two please stop badgering me?” Harry groused, and when the pair of them looked more alarmed than sorry, he knew that that was his cue to leave. “You know what? Forget it. I'm going to bed.”

Without another word, Harry gathered up his things and headed for the boys' stairwell.

Harry changed into his pyjamas and fell into bed, his head hitting the pillow with a very satisfying flump. As he lay there, his thoughts strayed unbidden back to the Potions Master, and his Amortentia.

I don't fancy him, Harry thought firmly. I mean, so what if he's tall, and striking, and intelligent, and brave, and has a wit so sharp you could cut yourself on it, and... Harry groaned, forcing the train of thought to a shuddering halt, and he buried his face in his pillow. Maybe I'll get lucky and suffocate in my sleep...

No such luck.

~*~

The following morning, Severus felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Despite the fact that he'd downed two vials of dreamless sleep to ensure that he would, in fact, sleep, a certain bespectacled undersized boy-hero continued to tramp through his brain undeterred.

Even when he's not causing trouble he's causing trouble...Severus thought acidly as he went through his morning routines. The brat had not left his thoughts since the previous afternoon, and he was furious about it. Moreso because the look of abject horror he'd regarded Severus with the previous day proved that the little hellion also knew exactly what was going on.

Severus stalked out of his private quarters and headed for the Great Hall for breakfast, and on his way passed a number of giggly girls, awkward-looking boys bearing long-stemmed roses, and with a curse he realized it was that hated day: Valentine's Day.

With a flare of his billowing robes Severus made for the Great Hall, a scowl firmly set upon his face.

~*~

“If you ask me if I'm all right one more time, I swear by all that is holy that I will hex you into next week,” Harry said in a deadened tone of voice as he pointed his wand at Hermione over the kippers.

“I didn't say a word!” she protested, her eyes wide.

“You were thinking it. Come on Hermione, I know you. I just want you to leave me alone about it, I had a momentary crisis but that's over now, and I'd like to move—”

“Er, excuse me, Harry?”

Harry turned in his seat, and blinked bemusedly at the sight before him. Of all the breakfast time scenes he'd ever expected to witness, Justin Finch-Fletchley holding out a long-stemmed rose hadn't been one of them. He felt a flush immediately begin to creep up his neck.

“I, er—I heard that you and I...well, we share more in common than I previously thought, and, well, I was wondering if you'd, er, like to come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, while Harry stared at him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water while he tried to work through his surprise.

“You're supposed to take the flower!” Ron hissed, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione elbow her boyfriend in an effort to shut him up.

“Don't interrupt!” Hermione whispered to Ron, while with his flush deepening, Harry reached out and accepted the rose, and Justin's expression immediately brightened.

“I—all right, I guess,” Harry said, and Justin's face split into a wide grin.

~*~

Severus ground his teeth as his eyes found Potter. It had been quite clear that his reaction to Amortentia the previous day had been the same as his, yet why was he accepting roses from blushing Hufflepuffs?

“Severus, are you all right?”

Minerva's voice drew Severus out of his cycle of angry thoughts, and he shook his head once. Was he really jealous of a student? It didn't matter that the student in question was a legal adult, he was still a student.

“I'm fine Minerva,” Severus muttered, “why do you ask?”

“Only that you look like you've sat upon a bed of nails,” she said simply, “are you quite certain that nothing's bothering you?”

“I'm certain,” Severus muttered as Potter looked up towards the Head Table, and promptly turned as red as a tomato as his eyes met Severus's. He quickly looked away and muttered something to Granger and Weasley, then left the rose behind as he hurried out of the hall, almost like he had completely forgotten Finch-Fletchley was even there. The Hufflepuss exchanged a few words with the Gryffindors, then with shoulders slumped, he shuffled back to his own house table.

Severus smirked, and hid the expression behind his coffee cup.

~*~

That evening, with his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him, Harry paced in the seventh floor corridor with the Marauder's Map in his trembling hands.

I need a place to think...I need someplace to help me work this out....I need to figure out why I can't stop thinking about him...

A simple wooden door appeared, and Harry hurried inside.

Harry did not know what he expected—perhaps a fireplace and a few chairs, maybe even incense for meditating, something.

Instead, resting upon a solitary table in the centre of the room was an old, battered book.

Blinking bemusedly, Harry stepped up to the table and swore, because he recognized it immediately.

Advanced Potion-Making

~*~

Following breakfast, Severus was quite pleased with how his Wednesday was going. He made a first-year Gryffindor cry, he awarded points to his own house, and that evening, sequestered away in his office, he was away from the acrid stench of Potter seeping from every Amortentia cauldron. At last, he had found some peace.

Provided he could get that infernal brat off his mind for more than thirty seconds at a time.

Of course, it had to be at that same moment that the aforementioned infernal brat burst into his office without knocking.

“Okay, I've had it,” Potter pronounced as the door swung shut behind him. “The potion reminds me of you, but I don't care. I don't fancy you.”

Severus stared, and blinked slowly at the seventeen-year-old. At that moment, Potter reminded Severus of a particularly agitated budgerigar, all puffed up and indignant, unaware how small it really was.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, dropping his voice to a low, sultry tone he'd never used in front of any of his students—not even Potter. The sound of it had the effect Severus had been aiming for, and Potter flushed a deep crimson.

“To...to tell you that I don't fancy you? Because I don't...and have now told you...” Potter trailed off as Severus stood fluidly, and seemed to freeze as the older man glided towards him.

Severus stopped mere inches from the younger man, and regarded him silently. His face was still slightly flushed, but his eyes told Severus all that he needed to know: the dilated pupils spoke of desire, not embarrassment or fear. He reached out and cradled Potter's chin in his hand, very gently forcing the young man to meet his eye.

“Are you certain of that...Harry?”

The sound of Potter's name on his lips thrilled him, but he allowed none of it to show on his face. He smirked a little as Potter's breath hitched, and his flush deepened further. Any more, and he could probably use the boy's face as a heat source.

“I—I...” Potter trailed off, he shivering a little as Severus's thumb brushed along the edge of Potter's jaw, from his chin to just below his ear.

“Something tells me that you sought me out with an ulterior motive in mind,” he purred, and Potter averted his gaze, though he didn't pull away.

“That's not it,” Potter replied, though Severus found the quivering quality of his words hard to believe. “I...you...”

Potter looked back up as he trailed off again, and Severus saw that the desire was still present, but it was now intermingled with shame. Was Potter ashamed of his attraction to men, or was it shame of his attraction to him, Severus Snape, ex Death Eater and universally loathed potions professor?

“Are you planning to string those words together into a proper sentence, Mr Potter, or do you intend to simply stand there and stammer at me?”

Potter gaped, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly, and Severus inched closer to the young man.

“Harry,” Severus purred, and a soft noise escaped the young man, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and Severus took a leaf out of Godric Gryffindor's book, and boldly leant forward, sealing his lips over Harry's in a kiss.

~*~

Harry's mind was numb.

My professor is kissing me.

Everything else was dull static.

Everything that Severus Snape was enveloped him—he tasted of good wine and dark chocolate; he smelled of smoky sandalwood incense; and the sour, briny, pickling smell that came from preserving dozens and dozens of different potions ingredients. All combined together it should have been awful, but it was wonderful.

Harry threw his arms over Snape's shoulders, and pushed himself onto his toes as he kissed the older man back. A thin but strong arm coiled around his waist, drawing him even closer, and Harry shivered a little, caught between desire and fear.

As silent as his mind had been mere seconds before, now Harry felt as though his mind had been hit with a tidal wave of thoughts.

Why am I even attracted to him?

What does this kiss mean?

What am I doing?

What is he doing?

If Sirius gets wind of this I am so dead...

Harry was so caught up in his torrent of thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that Snape had stopped kissing him.

“I...er...”

“As eloquent as ever, Mr Potter,” Snape purred, and Harry felt his flush return. Pressed so close together, Harry could feel how much the Potions Master had enjoyed the kiss—by a distinctive hardness that was currently pressing into Harry's thigh. “Detention.”

“I—wait, what?”

Snape smirked. The dangerous look in his eye seemed to send an electric current through him that Harry felt all the way to his groin.

“Barging into my office, after hours, and being incredibly rude to a professor of my stature...all actions that would warrant a detention, wouldn't you say?” As Snape spoke, he lifted the arm that was not coiled around Harry's waist and pressed his hand against Harry's chest. He let it rest there for a moment before he began to trail it downwards. “Make no mistake, I intend to make you work off your insolence,” he said, emphasizing the point even further by giving Harry's straining cock a sharp squeeze.

Harry gripped more tightly to the older man as a soft hiss of a gasp escaped him, and he bucked weakly into Snape's hand.

“Though where to have you serve your detention?” Snape mused while he continued to massage the distinctive bulge at the front of Harry's trousers as he spoke. “Across my desk? In my classroom? In my quarters?” Harry's breath was quickly becoming ragged, and whimpered as he bucked into the older man's hand. “My quarters offer a number of places for you to serve your detention as well. My shower stall, or my settee, or my bed...”

At the last word, Harry lost what tenuous control he had maintained up to that point, and buried his face in the crook of Snape's neck as his release dampened the front of his trousers.

“Indeed, the bed.”

Harry walked stiffly back to Gryffindor tower, in part because he was sticky and uncomfortable, but also from the sheer shock at what had just transpired, and the conversation that had followed.

“You're not to touch yourself until your detention, Mr Potter,” Snape had said in that same soft, sinfully erotic tone of voice as he escorted Harry to the door of his office.“If you do, I shall know.”

Without another word, he shunted Harry out of his office without so much as a goodbye.

I don't even know if what just happened was technically legal, even if I am an adult, Harry thought as he walked, and immediately made a mental note to not tell Hermione. He didn't want her running to McGonagall or Sirius, especially when he had every intention of seeing his detention through.

Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak as he neared the Fat Lady's portrait, and hurried through the common room and up to the boys' showers unseen. The last thing that he needed was having to explain to one of his friends why he'd wanked without even bothering to take his trousers off.

Under the warm shower spray, Harry began to reflect back on what had just happened.

I don't even know how it happened so fast, Harry thought, and shivered as he remembered his professor's hands on him, but he couldn't deny that he'd liked it—more than liked it.

Harry suddenly remembered his so-called detention scheduled for the following evening, and a small involuntary moan escaped past his lips. His cock twitched with interest, and he trembled a little as he tried to resist the order that had been issued to him.

“Fuck it,” Harry muttered, and after squeezing a measure of liquid soap onto his palm, he reached down and took hold of his half-hard cock.

~*~

It would seem that Potter is still wholly incapable of following simple instructions, Severus mused over breakfast the following morning as he watched the young man chat idly with his friends. He was far too content to have abstained, and Severus immediately began to muse as to what sorts of punishment he could mete out that evening.

A punishment that fits the crime...

Severus nibbled on his dry toast as he began to plan.

~*~

Harry passed the day by with his stomach in knots.

“Mate, what are you so worried about?” Ron asked at lunch, his mouth crammed full of potato, and Hermione wrinkled her nose as she was sprayed with tiny white flecks. “It's just detention with Snape, that's nothing new. He'll probably just have you skinning shrivelfigs or disembowelling horned toads or something.”

“I believe there is a phrase that goes, say it, don't spray it,” Harry said pointedly as Hermione cleaned herself up. “And yeah, I dunno, we'll see, I guess.” Ron ignored both Harry's comment and Hermione's glare and resumed eating.

“You know you've become a real priss every since you told us that you're a fairy,” Ron commented a moment later after he'd swallowed his food, and Harry stared.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ron, don't call Harry a fairy,” Hermione countered, and the ginger promptly snorted.

“Harry Fairy,” he joked, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Not funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

“Whatever,” Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he turned back to his food. He knew Ron wasn't serious with the queer epithets, and thus was not bothered in the least by them. “Anyway I'm not a priss—”

“—metrosexual, then,” Ron cut in, and this time Hermione took her turn in rolling her eyes.

“I'm not even going to ask how you know that word,” she said, and both boys snorted.

“I just mean, the old Harry would never have commented on my table manners,” he continued while he pointed at Harry with his fork.

“Call it looking out for your best interests,” Harry countered, “I just don't think the key to a lasting relationship is covering your significant other with mash.”

“I was eating roasted potatoes.”

“They were mashed by the time they hit Hermione.”

“As much fun as it is listening to the pair of you debate potato semiotics,” Hermione interrupted, “I need to get to the library. See you two in Transfiguration?”

“What?” Ron turned to her, but her mouth was quirked into a small half-smile, indicating to both of them that she wasn't actually that annoyed at being the topic of their debate. “Oh, all right.” He shared a kiss with her, and she darted off. The sight of the kiss reminded Harry of a certain kiss he'd experienced the night before, and his stomach turned over.

“Anyway, Harry,” Ron said as he turned back to the last dregs of his lunch, “it's just Snape, you've got nothing to worry about.”

Harry didn't answer, but his eyes strayed to the Head Table, and he picked out the Potions professor in an instant. He smirked at Harry and lifted his goblet slightly in silent toast. Something in his expression caused Harry to shiver.

That man is going to eat me alive, Harry thought, and quickly averted his gaze to try and dampen his budding arousal, but it didn't help very much.

~*~

Severus spent the day with his mind in a fog of desire, and he was so distracted that he'd even forgotten to berate the Gryffindors in his lessons that day. His focus was on one Gryffindor in particular, and how he planned to make him squirm that night.

I haven't employed the use of my toy box in quite some time, but it's very likely that Potter is a virgin, he may not appreciate such a thing yet...No, I don't want to scare him off...Perhaps a little charm is the way to go...Or I could...

The train of thought continued, and by the early evening he was fairly certain that he'd come up with at least half a dozen potential 'punishments' for him.

At eight o'clock exactly, a soft, almost uncertain knock sounded upon the door of his private quarters. Severus hid his excitement for the evening ahead behind a neutral mask as he swept towards the door. He pulled it open; at once he could see that Potter's hair was a little damp, and he smelt of cedarwood—that same intoxicating smell he'd first smelt in that infernal potion.

“Mr Potter,” he said, “do come in.”

Severus stepped aside and Harry stepped inside; though Severus couldn't help but notice that his walk did not carry its usual confidence, and his eyes were wide, not with arousal, but with nervousness.

Unwilling to scare the young man off, the moment he'd shut the door he swept in and rested a hand at the back of Potter's neck, and brushed his lips over the young man's in a chaste kiss.

“Come,” he said softly, “I believe a drink first is an order.”

“O-okay.”

~*~

Harry allowed Snape to steer him from the entryway of his quarters to a modest little sitting room, where upon a coffee table before a comfortable-looking settee was a carafe of some sort of amber liquid and two glasses.

Snape sat down next to Harry, close enough that he could feel the older man's body heat, and he bent forward to pour a measure of the drink in each of the glasses, and offered one to Harry. He accepted it mechanically, and the faintest of smirks played at the corner of Snape's mouth as he clinked his glass against Harry's.

Harry mirrored Snape and took a tiny sip of the drink, figuring it wasn't something you chugged. He started slightly at the warmth that seemed to spread through him as he swallowed the scant mouthful. It was strong, but Harry liked it—much better than firewhisky, at any rate.

“I take it Famous Harry Potter has never tried bourbon before?” Snape asked, and as Harry shifted his gaze to him he felt himself flush.

“Er, no. But it's good...I—I like it.”

Snape nodded in what could have been approval, and they lapsed into silence while they drank. As they sat there, Snape's hand moved to rest on Harry's knee, and he felt his skin break out in gooseflesh at the light contact.

“I must ask you a personal question, Po—Harry,” Snape said, and Harry shivered at the sound of his name on Snape's lips and in that voice.

“Yeah?” Harry prompted, his hold on the glass tightening a little when Snape offered his knee a soft squeeze.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Er...not exactly,” Harry replied, unable to meet Snape's eye as he said it, and took another sip of the drink as he thought of how to best answer the question. “I was with Ginny, then I fooled around with...” Harry trailed off and felt his face grow very warm.

“With...?” Snape prompted.

“Er...Romilda Vane, I just liked her long black hair,” Harry cast an embarrassed glance towards Snape, and his mouth quirked into a faint smirk. Harry swallowed thickly as he prepared to drop the proverbial bomb, “andthenMalfoy,” he finished in a rush.

“I certainly hope you mean your classmate and not his father,” Snape replied dryly, and Harry choked on air.

“O-of course I mean—Lucius is—” Harry sputtered, but stopped short when he saw the glittering amusement in the older man's eyes. Was Snape teasing him? Harry didn't know the man was even capable of such a thing.

“So in sum, you desire men with dark hair?” Severus asked as he arched a brow, and Harry felt himself turn, if possible, even redder. “Well, that certainly tips the odds in my favour, wouldn't you say?”

“You could say that...” Harry mumbled, and took another sip of his drink.

“Potter,” Snape prompted, drawing his attention back to the older man, “I am quite aware that I gave you little room to...decline last night. I am many things, Mr Potter, but I am not in the habit of forcing people into my bed who genuinely do not want to be there. If you are uncertain, you may take your leave.”

Harry stared.

Of all the things Harry had expected when he'd come here tonight, Snape being beyond accommodating but courteous was not something Harry could have foreseen. For a moment, he didn't answer, but stared up at him with slightly widened eyes. He thought over what Snape had said, but though he still had his reservations, the idea of letting Snape fuck him through the mattress (hadn't he also said something about getting fucked on his sofa and in his shower too?) was far too appealing to decline.

“No, I don't want to leave,” Harry said at last, and flushed again as his voice shook a little. “I...you...I mean, all this is thanks to a stupid love potion, I don't think I'd be here otherwise. And, erm, I mean to say, I'm glad it pointed me to you. I've never felt like this with anyone else.”

“And how do you feel, Mr Potter?”

“Like...like I might break apart if you rejected me, or...or...like a thousand butterflies in my stomach, I...I don't know, I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but despite certain...taboos, I guess, this feels right, like it should happen.”

“My, my, you're much more of a romantic than I took you for,” Snape mused, and Harry felt himself flush again. Snape set his glass down and gently pried Harry's from him, and he gave it up willingly. After he set the glass down he turned back to Harry, and drew him into another dizzying kiss.

~*~

All thoughts of pseudo-punishments flew out the window as Severus drew the young man to him. He realized in that moment that any of his initial plans would likely scare Potter off with little effort.

If tonight goes well, I'm certain that there will be plenty of time for that in the future... he thought, swallowing a chuckle as he pulled Potter into his lap, a move which caused the younger man to squeak in surprise. Severus chuckled, but did not break the kiss as he shifted the young man so that he was more or less straddling him, ensuring that Potter's straining erection was pressing into his stomach.

“Sn—Se...” Potter trailed off, the soft whisper barely audible as his insecurity began to bleed through and into his words, and Severus pulled back a little to regard the young man. In this position, they came to almost eye-level, with Potter an inch or two above him.

“Severus,” Severus said. “Say it,” he added when Potter merely stared blankly at him.

“Severus,” Potter breathed, and Severus smirked as he watched an attractive flush colour the young man's neck and cheeks.

“Now you.”

“Excuse me?” Severus asked, arching a brow when Potter grinned at him.

“Call me Harry, like before. I don't fancy being called Mr Potter all evening.”

“Demanding, aren't you, Mr Po—Harry,” Severus amended, and chuckled when his words were met with a cheeky grin. Before he could speak on it further, Harry leant in and kissed him.

Severus found himself mildly startled by the young man, merely because up to that point he had been playing the part of blushing virgin rather well. However, he had a feeling that Harry's common sense was no longer driving his actions.

~*~

Harry felt dizzy, though he couldn't figure out whether that was from the bourbon, or it was simply the effect that Severus had on him. He shivered as Severus's hand snaked under his jumper and T-shirt, playing across his abdomen as it slowly inched upward, pulling the garments with it.

“Tell me,” Severus purred against Harry's mouth, while his wayward fingers reached up and tweaked Harry's left nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. “You bedded one of my Slytherins. How did he do it? Did he pin you to the bed, fuck you so hard and fast it was over before it began? Or was he slow, did he take his time with you, showing you the true meaning of passion...as much as a seventeen-year-old could, at any rate.”

“What—what does that say about you, then?” Harry asked, trying desperately to stay focused through Severus's practised ministrations, “given that you're about to bed a seventeen-year-old yourself.”

“You didn't answer the question,” Severus replied as he grabbed the hem of Harry's T-shirt and jumper, yanking them off a little too roughly, and it nearly caused Harry to lose his glasses. This time however, Harry grinned.

“You have it a bit backwards, Professor,” Harry replied with a faint grin, “I fucked him.” Harry paused and watched the mild surprise flicker across Severus's expression before it dissolved behind his neutral mask. “And you should have seen him take it like a man.”

“My, my,” Severus said with a dark chuckle, “you really do have a filthy mouth, I really must do something about that.” Harry grinned but didn't answer. He could feel the effect his so-called filthy words were having on the older man, and instead he merely rotated his hips, grinding into the prominent bulge in the front of Severus's trousers.

The result was a low hiss, and he yelped as Severus scooped him up and carried him out to the bedroom without another word.

~*~

Severus dropped Harry unceremoniously upon the bedspread, and had moved his hand to the top button of his robes, but stopped short when he took note of the look of surprise upon Harry's face, in particular the way he was regarding the bedding he currently sat upon.

“What were you expecting, black and green?” He asked with a arched brow, and Harry shrugged a little.

“Well, yeah. I certainly didn't expect blue,” Harry replied with a note of sarcasm in his voice as he looked from the simple navy blue bedspread and up to his lover, a very familiar smirk crossing his features. Severus had to swallow a laugh as he pictured Granger and Weasley's reactions to Harry Potter beginning to emulate the mannerisms of one Severus Snape.

“Once more my reputation precedes me,” he replied dryly, and Harry answered his comment with a grin.

“There's also rumours that your Animagus form is a bat, and that you're actually a vampire too,” Harry added, and this time Severus rolled his eyes.

“Those rumours are nothing new, I can assure you. Though if that is a roundabout way of saying you like it rough, I would be more than happy to oblige,” Severus replied, dropping to the bed and crawling towards Harry as he spoke, and bit down upon the young man's bottom lip, not hard enough to break the skin, but certainly enough to hurt. Harry yelped and pulled back, and Severus immediately let go.

“That's quite all right, I don't need to be marked up like that, thank you,” he replied, though the way a flush had begun to creep up his neck made Severus suspect that Harry might not be telling the whole truth.

“Then tell me what you want, Harry,” Severus replied smoothly while a hand trailed up Harry's deliciously toned jean-encased thigh, and he stopped at Harry's bare hip. At the same time, Severus began to thumb open the buttons of his own robes. “Fast, slow? Rough, tender? I can already tell you that I want you on your knees with my cock in your mouth, would you like that, Harry?”

The answering moan was enough, and Harry crawled off the bed as Severus stood back up. There was something quite titillating about having The Boy Who Lived on his knees before him, but such thoughts fled from his mind as Harry's small, nimble fingers snuck beneath his robe, and found the catch upon his trousers.

Harry made quick work of freeing the buttons from their confines, and Severus just barely managed to stifle a shiver as those hands slipped into his undergarments and at last freed his aching cock.

Severus dropped his gaze to the young man before him. He was staring at Severus's erection like Dumbledore would have gazed at a dessert table. His lower lip caught between his teeth, first Harry simply gazed at the cock before him, holding it in his hands, caressing it, one hand dropping to feel Severus's balls. Each small touch elicited a soft shiver from the older man, and after licking his lips once, Harry finally descended upon his cock.

It was a truly delicious sight for Severus to watch Harry's lips stretch over his considerable girth; to feel his throat spasm around the head; that distinct brush of the head to the back of Harry's throat, and it was enough that Severus's iron self-control immediately began to crack. A soft groan escaped him as Harry coiled a hand around the base and began to bob his head, and though his technique wasn't perfect, there was something strangely endearing in his inexperience. However, he could not help but feel marginally disappointed that he would not be the one to take his virginity.

Still...Severus thought hazily, there is plenty I can teach him. Perhaps this time he'll actually listen, too. Though knowing who Harry was, he seriously doubted it.

~*~

If his mouth hadn't been full, Harry was certain that he would have moaned out loud. Severus was much bigger than Harry would have expected, and in the back of his mind he vaguely recalled Ron bitterly stating that Severus's foul temper must mean he was compensating for something. Boy had he been off the mark.

The heady, musky, distinctly male scent of the older man overwhelmed his senses, and Harry revelled in the soft, velvet texture of the cock in his hand and down his throat.

Harry was drawn from his focus on the cock in his mouth by the sound of a soft rustle above him, and he glanced up to see that Severus had discarded his outer robe. He now stood before him in solid black button-down shirt and trousers. They were fitted and clearly tailored to him, and without the voluminous robes concealing him, it was like looking upon a completely different man.

Harry refocused his attention on the task at hand, but as he swallowed the considerable girth again, he felt a hand lightly rest on his shoulder, and he looked up. Harry pulled back and eyed Severus curiously.

Instead of answering, he slowly pulled Harry to his feet and kissed him once.

“I don't want to find my release until I am buried inside your arse, Harry,” Severus murmured against Harry's mouth, and a soft whine of desire escaped him at the older man's words.

“Please,” Harry whispered as he shifted closer to Severus. The older man chuckled softly, and led Harry back to the bed. He sat down and shifted to the centre, then pulled Harry down with him. His elegant movements were hindered somewhat by the fact that his erect cock was still protruding out of the front of his trousers, though he seemed to be completely unbothered by this.

Severus urged Harry closer, and he pulled the younger man between his legs, facing him. The blind arousal seemed to dim a little, and there was a softening in Severus's expression as he gazed at Harry. Harry caught his lower lip between his teeth, uncertain what had happened. He could see and feel that something had changed in that instant, but he couldn't work out exactly what.

A large hand moved to cradle Harry's cheek, and he drew him forward to kiss him gently. It lacked some of the fire from earlier, and was almost tender. Harry felt slightly overwhelmed, and he pulled back a little to look at Severus, confusion knitting his brow together.

“Is something wrong?” Severus asked, and Harry's mouth quirked into a small frown.

“I...I don't know...” Harry replied softly, and began to chew on his lower lip again. Severus reached out and gently pulled the lip out from between his teeth. There was a knowledge in Severus's eyes that told Harry that he understood what had happened much better than he did, but he didn't explain it. Instead, Severus drew Harry into another kiss, while his free hand moved to loose the buttons on his shirt. Harry reached out and swatted his hands out of the way, and took to the task himself.

~*~

Severus chuckled at Harry's silent insistence that he disrobe him, and dropped his hands to let Harry go to it. Instead of the impatience he normally would have felt at the way Harry's fingers stumbled inexpertly over the buttons, instead he found it strangely endearing.

When at last the last button had been thumbed open, Severus immediately shrugged out of the garment and tossed it aside. Harry broke the kiss, and he felt a small swell of pride at the way Harry's breath caught, and his hands smoothed over the expanse of his pale chest. Severus had never taken much stock in his own appearance, but he always enjoyed the reaction his sex partners had in response to it.

“This is...” Harry began, his voice just barely above a whisper as he laid one of his hand on his left pectoral, and the muscle twitched under his light touch. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Potionmaking requires much more physical strength that people seem to realize,” Severus replied simply, though he could not stop the faint smirk that twitched at the corners of his mouth. He was skinny, to be sure, but there was more muscle definition than there had ever been present in his youth, and he was more proud of that than he probably should be.

“Clearly,” Harry whispered, and inched closer in order to plant a soft kiss to Severus's clavicle, and trailed his mouth down Severus's chest, pausing at the nipple to swirl around it with his tongue, while at the same time he began to lightly tug upon Severus's trousers. He let Harry finish undressing him, and as the young man crawled back to him for another kiss, Severus held up a finger, causing Harry to land the kiss upon the solitary digit, instead of his mouth.

“What do you want, Harry?” Severus asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“You,” Harry answered at once, his voice breathless in his haze of desire. “I—I want you.”

“Any why should I give myself to you, when you disobeyed me last night?” Severus arched a brow, and his mouth pulled into a small smirk when Harry blanched. “You touched yourself, when I specifically told you to abstain.”

“But I—I...I didn't think you were serious,” Harry pleaded, the first tendrils of panic beginning to bleed into his words.

“And when have I ever been one to bluff?” Severus asked as he arched a brow. “You should be punished for your disobedience, Harry. Perhaps I should just send you back to your dormitory right now...”

“You better be fucking kidding,” Harry hissed, his eyes blazing now not just with arousal, but with frustration as well. “After all that, you wouldn't dare...”

“Language, Mr Potter, unless you want another detention...”

“Fuck me, Professor.”

Harry was smirking most uncharacteristically, and at last Severus drew the young man back to him.

~*~

Harry let out a soft moan as Severus kissed him at last, and at the same time he roughly yanked at Harry's jeans, not even stopping to loose the belt as he went. The friction yanked down his pants as well, and the garments bunched up awkwardly at Harry's knees. Severus let out a low growl of frustration, and used his wand to banish the garments. Harry shuddered as his naked skin brushed against the older man's and suddenly what they were doing seemed to become much more real. Harry moaned softly, his arms coiling around Severus's neck to hold him in place, his stomach still knotted with worry that Severus might teasingly threaten to stop again.

A sharp tingling, almost burning sensation rushed through his bottom, which caused Harry to break the kiss as he gasped softly. He tensed, but immediately there was a hand at his back, rubbing at the muscles there in an attempt to soothe him.

“Merely a Cleansing Charm Harry, not to worry...” Severus murmured before he kissed Harry again, sucking Harry's slightly swollen lower lip into his mouth and coaxing his mouth open, allowing their tongues to tangle together. At the same time, Harry shivered as he felt a slick, solitary finger begin to work itself into his arse. Though he wasn't a virgin by any stretch of the word, he had never bottomed before, and Harry squirmed a little in the older man's embrace as he acclimated to the sensation.

“Just relax, Harry,” Severus whispered, “yes, that's it...”

Harry obeyed, and though it felt strange, it wasn't a wholly unpleasant sensation. He had only just begun to properly relax when Severus twitched his finger and brushed against something inside him that made him see stars.

“Oh!”

Harry broke the kiss abruptly as a shuddering moan escaped him, and he arched his back, bearing down much more firmly upon the digit.

“Now you know why some people enjoy bottoming,” Severus purred, and Harry felt himself flush, a little embarrassed at his eagerness.

Severus did not comment on Harry's apparent embarrassment, but instead worked a second finger into his arse, stretching him properly before he coaxed Harry onto all fours and shifted to line himself up with Harry's entrance. Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, while at the same time he arched his back, lifting his arse in the air invitingly.

~*~

Severus reached out and ran one hand over the right side of Harry's pert bottom, and smirked as he watched the muscle twitch as Harry arched immediately into the contact. He was tempted to continue teasing the young man, but Severus now longed for little more than to get off, and instead lined his cock up with Harry's hole, and very slowly breached the tight ring of muscle.

The action was met with a high keen from his partner, and he slowed his movements and rubbed Harry's back at the same time. When he felt the tension begin to drain away, he pushed forward a little more, and Harry moaned again, this time beginning to bear down on Severus's cock. He could feel that Harry was still not wholly accustomed to the sensation, but the silent trust that Severus would not hurt him rang through his actions, and he felt mildly daunted by it. It had been a very long time since anyone had extended such trust to him.

Once he was fully sheathed inside the younger man, Severus paused to let Harry get used to the feeling. He was panting hard, his arse clenching around Severus's cock like a vice, and it was a genuine struggle to stave off his orgasm for Harry's sake.

When Harry was ready, he offered Severus a small nod, and he held tightly onto Harry as he drew out and thrust back in with a sharp snap of his hips.

The force of the thrust caused Harry to jerk forward slightly, but he did not seem to notice as he moaned, moving with Severus instead of against him.

The pair found a rhythm with one another quickly, almost as though they had done this a thousand times before. Severus continued to struggle with holding back his orgasm, determined to draw out Harry's first time on the bottom for as long as he could. However, it did not take long for Severus to note the way Harry was white-knuckling the duvet, or the way his breathing had become significantly more ragged. He let go.

~*~

Harry cried out as he felt Severus fill his arse with his hot seed, and a large hand coiled around his own cock, pulling him to orgasm mere seconds later. He spilled his release over the bedspread, and the moment Severus pulled out, Harry lost his balance and fell against the mattress, the cold come squishing uncomfortably against his stomach. Severus lay down on top of him, panting heavily, like a warm, sticky blanket.

Only after the organ had begun to soften did Severus withdraw from Harry, then with an arm coiled around his waist he rolled onto his side and pulled the younger man with him into a warm embrace. Harry felt a Cleaning Charm tickle across the skin of his abdomen, and settled into the embrace as Severus drew a blanket over the pair of them.

“That was...wow...” Harry breathed, and smiled faintly when he felt a long-fingered hand bury itself into his hair.

“Wow, indeed,” Severus replied softly, then planted a kiss against the side of his throat. “And to think I used to loathe making my students brew Amortentia...”

“It has its uses, apparently,” Harry replied with a soft laugh.

“You are beginning to sound like me,” Severus murmured, his tone approving and amused all at once. “I am certain your little friends will be thrilled by this development.”

“Provided Ron doesn't hex you or McGonagall doesn't fire you or Sirius doesn't murder you for this...” Harry muttered, and was surprised when his words were met with a most undignified snort.

“You are an adult. So long as it does not interfere with my teaching or your studies, what we have engaged in is perfectly legal,” Severus replied simply, and Harry's face split into a grin as he rolled over to face Severus.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Severus replied with another soft snort, and pulled Harry closer to brush his lips with a soft kiss. “We can do whatever we like, provided we stick to the aforementioned parameters. Though perhaps let your so-called guardian stay in the dark for the time being.” Harry laughed as he nodded a little. When Sirius found out, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he didn't murder Severus over this.

“I want this to happen again,” Harry said at once, then kissed Severus, “and again,” another kiss, “and again...”

“I believe that could be arranged...” Severus murmured, and once more drew Harry to him.

“Where have you been?!”

Harry looked up as he slipped into the Gryffindor common room, and saw Hermione and Ron at the base of the dormitory staircases. Hermione looked angry, while Ron looked concerned.

“Detention,” Harry replied innocently, raising his eyebrows.

“All night?”

“Er, yeah?”

“Why does that strike me as not all you were doing?” Hermione demanded, and Harry struggled to swallow a grin.

“Whatever makes you think that?” Harry asked, still maintaining the same innocent tone.

“Mate, you look like you went twelve rounds with the giant squid,” Ron filled in.

“I believe the usual turn of phrase is well shagged, Ronald,” Hermione added, glaring suspiciously at Harry. “And you stink.”

“Hermione, that is my best friend,” Harry began, smiling somewhat devilishly at her, “I was with Professor Snape all night, in detention. He really knows how to discipline students when they've been naughty.”

Laughing, Harry strode past the pair of them, their mouths hanging open in a remarkable dual impression of a pair of basking sharks, and without another word he headed upstairs to shower.

The End
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