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Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 9211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. No profit is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Snape’s eyes flew open. The wards in his storeroom were being activated again!
With a snarl, he threw off the bed covers and Summoned his clothes. He was still dressed in his under garments, a custom left over from his days as a spy for the Order. In mere minutes, he was completely gowned and striding out of his quarters, determined to punish the miscreant.
His stride sped up. If it was Potter in the act of theft, he would deduct 200 points from Gryffindor. What kind of detention would be fitting? Sorting flobberworms? Cutting up toads? Cleaning cauldrons? They were all too petty and hadn’t proved sufficient to deter the adolescent in the past. Never mind; he’d think of something suitably humiliating and exhausting by the time he caught him.
There was a hazy excitement adding an edge to his anticipation. He dearly wanted to catch Harry and part of it had nothing to do with taking points. Severus didn’t want to think about what that meant. He focused on the image of Harry scrubbing his cauldrons and tried not to picture him half naked while doing it…
The storeroom door flew open with a bang. He closed it swiftly behind him, hoping to keep the wrong-doer from escaping.
Severus swept in, his eyes scanning the space. The room appeared empty. He tried the Summoning Charm. Nothing happened but if it was Harry hidden here that made sense. He’d never been able to Summon that dratted garment.
It was strange. He’d snatched other Invisibility Cloaks that way but Potter’s always resisted the spell, no matter how much force he put behind it. The garment defied convention--much like its pesky owner.
“Finite Incantatem!” No invisible figure was revealed so no one was hiding under a Disillusion Charm, either. This must be something else entirely.
He swept through the space, his arms outstretched. He heard no hurried pantings, no shuffling of someone avoiding his arms. No one brushed past his fingers or swept against his voluminous sleeves. Severus groped through the space twice before conceding that his prey had escaped him.
He began taking a quick inventory, his practiced glance sweeping over the shelves with their neatly arranged bottles and flasks. Everything appeared to be in its proper place. It seemed he had scared off the thief before he could make off with his prize and he gritted his teeth in annoyance.
Spinning around once more, he paused. There was a bright scrap of color lying face up in the corner. It was small, no bigger than his palm; he’d almost missed it. Had he kicked it aside without realizing it?
He bent and picked up the square. It was a miniature photograph but like none he’d ever seen. There was an area of white space all around the colored image, leaving enough room for him to hold the photograph without obscuring the picture in any way. His hand shook as he stared at it, the breath sucked from his lungs as though he’d been kicked in the gut.
It was a picture of himself, crouched over a naked Harry Potter. He was equally unclad and the picture had been granted motion, showing his figure as he…
He was fucking Potter, crouched between the man’s bent legs, while fisting the Gryffindor’s cock roughly. The look of abandon on his own face was incredible and a wave of heat flared in Severus’s trousers, flowing with rapidity up over his chest until his face was burning.
“Yes, yes, harder! Oh fuck me! Don’t stop!”
“Not stopping. Not stopping until you cum, you little brat,” breathed his miniature self and Severus swallowed hard.
Sweet Circe. Here was displayed all the glories of youth and the male flesh. The Gryffindor’s body was gorgeous. It was taut and firm in all the right places, the arms corded with muscle without being ropy, the jet-black mop flopping with even more-than-usual disarray until the emerald green eyes could barely be made out glittering from behind the messy fringe of hair. The toes curled with every wild thrust as Harry panted and writhed on the column of flesh spearing him.
His own body wasn’t bad, even if he was no object of beauty. In the throes of passion, he was clearly uncaring of this fact, thrusting into Harry as though nothing else in world were of any importance--not his advanced years, his hideousness compared to the beautiful youth in bed with him, their previous animosity, and the camera that must have been in plain sight to have captured this compelling moment.
Even as he was drawn into the erotic display, he looked over the little picture, trying to sort out the details. He didn’t recognize the bedding in the scene. Maybe he and Harry had found a secret little niche to hold their illicit trysts. And now he couldn’t remember because of foolishly tampering with his own memory. Hadn’t that been a bright thing to do?
The sounds from the square grew more frenzied, his face twisted in concentration as he pounded into his bed partner. He’d never seen himself like this even when going through a Pensieve memory. Had he truly sounded like that when taking the boy, so…wanton and lust-ridden? Did Harry’s body really flush in that delightful manner, his whole frame arching to meet Severus’s hips as he pumped into him?
The figures were nearing the moment of release; he could recognize it, even given the limited range of the picture. Harry grabbed Severus’s buttocks, pulling him tightly against his body. Severus’s hand, visibly speeding up, swept over the pulsing prick.
Then Harry bucked with a final shrill scream, their bodies melded together, as he sprayed both of them with his seed. Severus’s photographic counterpart came only moments after, his deeper voice muffled in the nape of Harry’s neck.
He lifted his head with a small smile and bent to kiss the recumbent figure. Severus stared in utter bewilderment at the commingled ardor and sweetness of that kiss. Harry wound his arms around Severus’s neck in utter trust as he gave himself over wholly to their embrace.
Severus shuddered from head to foot. Unconsciously, he had been kneading himself through his trousers, his aching cock hard against his hand. The warmth flooding his groin shocked him back to an awareness of his surroundings.
This was madness. He shouldn’t feel this way, not over a mere cheap portraiture. Had it been enchanted to attract him, to raise feelings of concupiscence?
He cast various revealing spells over it. But nothing changed except that the figures began moving through their routine again, their voices once more spurring each other on.
There was no spell at work here, nothing but his own pent-up emotions. He’d been completely caught up in the captured vignette in his hand. It hadn’t felt like that in years and all from this wretched square of photographic pornography.
But there was more to it than molten sex. That kiss afterwards had been filled with yielding warmth, carrying the unspoken hint that all this had been more than an illicit affair.
It was intolerable that this should have happened, that he should have become so vulnerable to the son of his enemy, James Potter. An ache bloomed in his heart as he realized he had condemned himself to forgetting this forever.
His fingers clenched, wrinkling the paper, as he prepared to cast the Burning Hex. Yet he hesitated. The details of the tiny figures, so intimately involved and entwined, tugged at him. And it was just a picture, wasn’t it? No need to fear any harm from it.
Tucking it deep within his pocket, he straightened. He became aware again of the dampness in his trousers, the coolness of the air causing the cloth to stick unpleasantly to his skin. Casting the Cleaning Charm by reflex, he exited his storeroom.
He was in no mood to linger or make his customary sweep through the halls. If he was hurrying to his bed, it was merely to sleep, not to think over what he had found and certainly not to engage in a lengthy session of masturbation.
Feeling the picture burning against his flesh through the cloth, he wasn’t so certain he could hold out against his baser intentions.
__________
Upon reaching the dungeons, he closed his private door behind him, activated the usual locking wards and added a few more for good measure and took several breaths.
There. Now that he’d walked off the worst of his arousal (and hadn’t that been painful, striding around with an erection the size of a Quidditch broom in his trousers?), Severus could face the task ahead of him with a measure of calm.
He levitated the photograph out of his pocket and let it rest on the table, careful not to touch it again. Lifting his wand, he intoned, “Incendio.”
The picture did not ignite. Instead, the paper seemed to flutter. Then…
Severus watched, stunned to the core, as a spell hidden in the picture activated. Like a pair of ghosts, the forms of the two men rose from the flat square. They appeared to take on a kind of solidity, getting larger until they were completely life sized. Splayed across his table, they resumed the motions of their torrid sexual bout.
The paper must have been jinxed somehow, made to respond to the predictable Flaming Hex. This was a most remarkable bit of spell work, worthy of the wretched departed Marauders.
“Yes, yes, harder! Oh fuck me! Don’t stop!”
“Not stopping. Not stopping until you cum, you little brat.”
At full size, all the beauties of Harry’s body became apparent. Every hair, every rippling muscle, every detail of that gorgeous figure manifested itself. This couldn’t have been more enthralling if Harry himself were in the room.
“Oh Merlin, Severus, fuck me hard! Harder!” Harry cried.
The image of himself, rampant as a rutting bull, leaned over Harry, fucking him almost brutally. “Take it! Take it! Merlin, you feel so good, your sweet little arse gripping my prick. You like it rough like this, don’t you?” he gasped.
The Harry did not answer. Instead he turned his head to the enraptured man watching them. “You want this, don’t you, Severus? You want me.” Green eyes glittered as the pink tongue swept over the top lip.
Severus gaped, shocked and aroused in equal measure. This was the first time since finding it that the picture had responded to him, the watcher, and his heart thudded wildly at the implications.
It wasn’t possible for him to join in with the other figures; they were only the products of a photograph and magic hadn’t found a way for the living to incorporate themselves into pictorial reproductions.
But, oh, how he wanted to. How he wanted to shove aside his doppelganger and fall upon the lithe figure being pinned to the desk. It was sheer agony to watch this and know himself to be excluded through his own actions.
Harry was still staring at him, although his body remained glued to the other figure atop him. His look held challenge and desire. Without another word, he stretched out his hand towards Severus.
The Slytherin couldn’t stand it any longer. He lunged forward, his arms outstretched, striving to seize the younger man. Immediately, the figures shrank back into the photo and it became quiescent once more.
Severus stood motionless, his astonishment turning to absolute fury. Another spell, doubtless meant to respond to this very movement. He could only watch the copulating pair; he could not join them.
“You miserable little…BASTARD!” he roared, mentally reviewing all the tortures he knew to inflict them on that boy once he got his hands on him.
His erection had returned with a vengeance, mindlessly responding to the erotic display. He shouldn’t be ready again so soon. He was a man nearing his forties, for Circe’s sake, not a randy adolescent who couldn’t keep his mind off sex for more than a minute. His cock had other ideas and the heat of it pulsed urgently within his confining garments.
Groaning, he tugged opened his trousers with unseemly haste, causing a few buttons to go flying across the room. He spat into his hand, too excited to Summon salve, and jerked at his throbbing flesh.
It didn’t take long. In an embarrassingly short time, he came hard enough to splatter the pristine table where the two figures had lately lain. Deeply spent, Severus staggered backwards and collapsed against the wall.
Twice in one evening. When was the last time that had happened, with or without a partner? He sighed and then stiffened.
There had been a sharp intake of breath just now, not his own. Where had it come from? He opened his mouth to speak when he felt air blow across his throat. Then a kiss was pressed there and his eyes widened.
“Have you never studied incubi, Severus?”
Incubi, indeed. He knew that voice. It was none other than the perpetual thorn in his side, the pesky Gryffindor himself.
But how could it be? How could Potter have gotten past his wards?
Wait. The boy had been to his quarters before for the sake of their forbidden sexual encounters; the paper had stated that. He had taken that potion to rob him of his memory and his desires but had forgotten to change his wards. Damn! How stupid could he be?
While he was inwardly berating himself, the voice continued. “Lustful thoughts bring demons of lust.” Breath fluttered over his throat, causing him to shiver. In stupefaction, he watched as his shirt was opened by an unseen hand.
His shirt and robes were shoved off, calloused fingers rubbing in slow circles over his shoulders, back and nipples. The air continued to brush down his now-exposed chest to his belly. Even as he started to push Harry away, a mouth latched tightly on to his wilted cock.
Instantly, he was erect again, something that should have been impossible. But the heat, the pressure, the slurping sounds that came from the invisible entity between his thighs roused him into an undeniable torrent of need.
Unable to control himself, he slumped down the wall to lie flat on the floor. Cushioned by his disheveled clothing, he thrust with mindless abandon into the mouth encircling him.
“Oh, fuck. Merlin, yes,” he gasped as the suction grew tighter. His searching hands found the head at his groin, felt the mess of tussled hair under his fingers. As he thrust, he was shocked to feel a prodding at his anus.
Slickened by perspiration or saliva, the intruding finger pushed and breeched his hole. Severus let out a loud screech as Harry searched for and found the closeted flesh couched therein. The digit curled and rubbed in precise counterpoint to the sucking of his member and Severus shrieked.
Oh god, where had the boy learned to do that? His fellatio technique was superb; coupled with the reaming his finger was giving him, Severus was in serious danger of losing his mind.
The jolts of excitement arching through him with each unerring touch were drawing the most embarrassing noises out of him. Harry was giving him no time to catch his breath or mount a defense. Severus could only pant and thrust blindly, at the mercy of the invisible imp ravishing him.
Then the stimuli stopped. The mouth and finger withdrew, causing him to glare at the empty space between his legs. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “Finish what you’ve started or I’ll--”
“Hex me? It does not do to threaten Dark creatures, Severus Snape.” Before he could tell him what he thought of his incubus impersonation, Severus felt the body between his legs shifting, lifting upwards.
His cock was fumbled with and hoisted higher--a truly bizarre sight. There was the prodding of an unseen sphincter. The parting of moist flesh around the tip of his member. Tension. Heat.
The body over his shivered. Then there was an abrupt gasp as the weight slid farther down his prick. Severus drew in a tight breath as the anus clenched around his meat with a tightness belied by the ease in which the teenager had mounted him.
His hands reached out searchingly. There was no silkiness from the Cloak. Only heated flesh met his probing fingers. Somehow Harry had finally learned Disillusion Charms. Severus would have been impressed if his body hadn’t been caught up in other things.
Merlin. This was better than anything he could have fantasized, this exquisite delight coming out of nowhere. The loud pants and cries coming from the man above him testified to the Gryffindor’s own ecstasy, causing Severus to groan Harry’s name.
Then there was nothing but pleasure as Harry began to move. His fingers clutched Severus’s shoulders, holding him close, running through his hair and trailing over his neck.
There could be no doubt that Harry had known him intimately. He touched all the places on Severus’s body that made him yelp, scream and quiver. Those motions he was making with his lower hand as he rubbed Severus’s balls--Circe, he was certain he was seeing stars.
He bucked up wildly, driving into his partner with a carelessness that made the Gryffindor scream. He stopped, although it was more than he could bear, terrified that he’d hurt his partner. But Harry whispered in reassurance, a hand stroking Severus’s face. The motions resumed, grew wilder, more ardent as Harry cried out again, a quite different note in his voice.
The explosion when it came was fiercer than Severus had any right to expect, given his previous orgasms. His head fell back, striking the floor almost hard enough to hurt. Vaguely, he made out Harry crying his name before feeling splashes of cum splatter his chest and belly.
Severus struggled to regain his equilibrium; it was proving curiously difficult to do so. Having Harry’s warmth and pounding heart on his torso wasn’t helping. He wound his arm around the heaving body and stroked down the back.
“Mmmm. Quite…fleshy for an incubus, aren’t you?” he murmured. Well, it wasn’t on par with his usual biting wit but what could you expect, considering that he’d had three powerful releases in as little as one hour?
There was a soft muttering and Severus felt the brush of the Cleaning Charm sweep over both of their bodies. Then Harry chuckled. “Fleshy? No one else’s ever complained about that before.”
No one else? There had been others? The paper hadn’t stated that. Then again, he had thrown Harry over; the lad wasn’t to be blamed if he’d found solace elsewhere in Severus’s absence. Nevertheless, he stiffened and tried to shove Harry off.
“Severus? What’s wrong now?” Harry sounded exasperated and Severus instantly went on the attack.
“I’m surprised you could bring yourself to see me when there are so many of your little sycophants queuing up at your door,” Severus snapped icily. Blast, he could hear the hurt beneath the haughtiness in his own voice and hoped Harry didn’t pick up on it.
“Oh, for--Look, I’m not going to take jealousy from you, not when you decided to throw me off after fucking me a few times.”
“Language, Mr. Potter.”
“It’s ‘Mr. Potter’ again? Not ‘Harry, oh my god, Harry, more!’? You’re awfully mealy-mouthed for someone who’s been screwing one of his students.”
Damn the man’s cheek. Well, Harry had a point there. He had been the one to initiate matters in the beginning; that letter to himself had stated it so he couldn’t deny that.
The unseen weight shifted off him and Severus mourned silently as it left, the chill of the dungeon closing in once more. He fought to grab control of the situation and seized on the only thing he could think of. “You had been stealing from me, Mr. Potter.”
“We’ve been through that, Severus,” Harry stressed.
“If I succumbed to lust, I was hardly to be blamed, seeing you masturbating in bed with my salve and my Slytherin tie. Quite the thieving little bugger, aren’t you?”
“Quite the randy old Professor, aren’t you?” Harry shot back. There was a sigh somewhere above him. Harry must have stood up. Abruptly aware of how vulnerable he was, lying in a heap among his rumpled clothing, Severus surged to his feet as well.
“Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Obviously. For someone complaining about my sexual habits, you are quite the slut, Mr. Potter.”
“Who said I was complaining? And it’s Harry. You called me Harry before. Calling me Mr. Potter now doesn’t change what’s happened between us.”
Severus quickly buttoned up his clothes, fumbling at the holes where buttons had gone flying. “And what has happened between us, other than a pleasant little shag?” he murmured in a bored tone, acting as though getting dressed were the only thing occupying his thoughts.
“You tell me. Was it just a pleasant little shag when you came to my rooms over and over again? You said it was unethical. But that didn’t stop you. You wanted me. Then you decide you’re going to call it quits, without so much as telling me.”
Severus’s eyes narrowed as he sneered. “Is that why you’re here, Mr. Potter? You were feeling an itch? Or is it just a case of petty revenge? And reveal yourself! I refuse to carry on a conversation with empty air!”
“Why not? I had to.”
There was that insufferable impertinence again. The fact that he couldn’t remember what Harry was even talking about stung him with his own culpability. Angrily, Severus grabbed his wand and snapped, “Finite Incantatem!”
There was a shimmer in the air. Then, like a picture forming out of blank paper, Potter came into view.
Severus couldn’t help it. He glanced over the nude form, noting the smattering of hair barely covering the brown nipples and leading down the ridged stomach to the softened cock. There was growth at the groin, too, sweetly outlining flesh that he suddenly ached to grasp. There wasn’t a lot, just enough to indicate this was a man he was facing and not a boy.
Harry Potter would never be tall but he was nicely muscled where it counted, with firm shoulders, a torso just a few pounds shy of scrawniness and slender legs. The boy’s face was handsome, too, combining James and Lily’s features until it was a pleasing amalgam of the two--delicate without being feminine.
Here was the lithe Adonis seen in the picture, brought to glorious life. The reality was even better than the portrait had been. For several precious seconds, Severus couldn’t understand why he’d denied himself this or made himself forget.
Realizing he was staring, his gaze snapped back to Harry’s face. Instead of the smirking triumph he expected to see there, he caught those eldritch eyes sweeping over his own body. Emerald eyes lifted to meet his own and Harry smiled.
“I’ve missed you, Severus.”
“I haven’t missed you, Mr. Potter,” he replied haughtily even as every part of him screamed its denial.
Harry stepped closer, undaunted by Severus’s denial or his own nudity. To his dismay, Severus felt himself retreating until the wall met his back. Unable to move farther, he found the Gryffindor standing mere inches away, those green eyes looming to fill his vision.
“Is that why you were applauding my win at the game the other day?”
“You were seeing things, Potter.”
Harry ignored this as though he hadn’t spoken. “Is that why you jerked off in the prefects’ room calling my name?”
Severus was stunned though he was certain his expression gave away nothing. How in the hell did the man know that?! He was about to refute it when the other man spoke again.
“If you haven’t missed me, why did you masturbate to that picture just now?”
“I’m not made of stone, Mr. Potter. Naturally, that bit of amateur pornography affected me. Any naked body in that cheap representation would have had the same effect,” he said dismissively.
Harry’s eyebrow lifted. “Are you saying you would have beaten off if it had been Neville you were fucking in that snapshot? Or Professor Sprout?” He must have shuddered because that cheeky grin manifested itself again. “Didn’t think so.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t think, Potter,” he snapped, “because you have no clothes and you’ll be forced to make your way out of here naked.”
Harry shrugged. “No problem. Accio clothes!” From somewhere his trousers, Muggle shirt, robes and trainers came flying in a bundle and Harry caught them easily.
“How were those…when did you disrobe?” Severus couldn’t recall hearing Harry undress; even if he had been caught up in that damnable portrait, he should have heard that.
“After I left that picture for you to find, I came to your quarters to wait. At first I was afraid you’d changed your wards. But you didn’t.” His voice softened and he leaned closer. “Now why would you leave them unchanged if you didn’t want me back?”
“I forgot to change them after I wiped my memory clean of our affair.” There, he’d revealed his actions, just as he was instructed. He waited for the shame and rage to sweep across Potter’s face.
There was that gob-smacked look that seemed characteristic of Gryffindors. “You…Obliviated yourself?”
He shrugged. Obliviation, a potion, it made no difference. Let Potter think what he liked as long as he was humiliated enough to leave.
Incredibly, Harry smiled. “You were really scared, weren’t you?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not scared of you, Potter,” he sneered.
“No, of course not. You were scared of your feelings.”
“I had no feelings other than that this was a sleazy little affair that had wound down to its inevitable conclusion,” he replied haughtily. He made to push the interloper out of the way only to have his arm caught by a shockingly firm grip.
Harry’s hand seemed to burn right through his clothes. But it was nothing compared to the heat from the sudden kiss that followed.
The man’s mouth was demanding, possessive. The tongue thrust through his lips to caress his own and he found himself unconsciously responding. In spite of the potion, it was hauntingly familiar.
Just as the sex had, Severus realized. Potter’s body merging with his hadn’t been an invasion of privacy but had held the joy of someone coming back to his proper place.
Someone coming home.
Even as his mind staggered under the implications of that, his arms reached out, seized the body curving against his and brought it tightly against his own. Harry was hunching eagerly against him and he was following suit, helpless to deny the urgency of his own yearning.
Harry stopped to rest his forehead against Severus’s. Again, the gesture was oddly familiar and even more welcome than the turbulent sex.
“I’ve missed you. And you must have been spooked about what you’re feeling. Otherwise, you would have just told me to sod off. You wouldn’t have bothered with some spell to erase what we did together.”
“This is wrong, Potter, and--”
“And that’s just an excuse. The Severus I know doesn’t hide behind self-serving lies or run from the truth. You wanted me and that terrified you. You thought wiping your memories would help. But it hasn’t. Has it?”
Blast and damn. It sounded exactly like what he’d been telling himself for the past few days. Curiosity over what he and Harry had known between them had begun to outweigh any satisfaction in ending the memories of their torrid affair. And what they’d done just now had carried more than the satisfaction of mere sex.
Yes, he’d been a coward and a fool, not that he’d admit it to this man. He still wanted Harry and it was more than mere lust, not that he’d admit that either. So he shifted his ground a bit.
“Are you saying you still want me?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Harry retorted. “You’re the one in denial.” He stepped back, breaking Severus’s grasp. “So it’s up to you, Severus. Do you want me still? Do you want us to be together, to make this work?”
His expression lapsing into impassivity, Severus strove for composure. “You are still my student.” When Harry opened his mouth to retort, Severus glared at him not to interrupt. “But you will not be for much longer. You will pass your N.E.W.T.s. What happens after that will be up to you.”
“No. It’s up to both of us. And you still haven’t answered the question.”
Harry was so calm. It was baffling how he could be so self-possessed while completely naked. On the other hand, Severus was in torment. He struggled to give an answer, one that wouldn’t compromise his pride.
“As I said, you are still my student. This…cannot continue.”
“Do you want it to?” Harry asked steadily.
The silence seemed to stretch out forever. It was clear Harry was willing to wait as long as it took until he responded.
“Yes,” he finally ground out. “Is that what you want to hear? Are you satisfied? Do you wish me to beg? You’ll not get that out of me, Mr. Potter,” he snarled.
“I’m hoping to get something else out of you,” Harry replied and those bewitching eyes swept down Severus’s front with a smoldering stare.
He’d erupted three times already this night; another exertion simply couldn’t happen for a man of his advanced years. But Severus swore he could feel another stirring in his trousers. “Mr. Pot--”
“You know, calling me ‘Potter’ just emphasizes that I’m your student. If you don’t want to keep thinking about how wrong this is, you should start calling me ‘Harry’.”
Hmmm. When he put it that way, calling him by his proper name did make more sense. “Harry.”
“Much better.” Harry stepped back into his arms and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “I know you can’t have a student in your rooms,” he continued.
Dammit, was the brat changing his mind?
“But how about if a certain incubus comes to visit you?”
An… “Ah, yes, that would certainly be acceptable,” Severus answered with mock thoughtfulness.
“Brilliant. I can bring the tapes next time.”
“Tapes?”
“Oh, that’s right. You forgot. Merlin, it’s going to be fun introducing you to that all over again,” Harry said, a wicked grin making his eyes sparkle.
He moved away and dressed quickly. “And if you think the tapes are hot, you should see the other photos.”
Others? There were more like the one lying on the table? This time Severus didn’t imagine it. Blood rushed to his cock until he was rock hard once more. Even as he itched to draw Harry back, the Gryffindor was at the door to his quarters.
“See you soon, Severus. Maybe I’ll re-acquaint you with my little rubber friend.” With a wink, the Disillusion Charm flowed over him and he was invisible once more. The door slid open and shut without a sound.
Rubber friend? Clearly he had underestimated Harry again. In spite of his attempts to wipe the man from his mind and his personal life, the Gryffindor had managed to outfox him.
He wondered about those pictures. He wondered about those mysterious tapes. He wondered when Harry would come to visit him again.
Severus glanced at the picture still lying on his table. He smirked. Then he waved his wand at it and murmured, “Incendio.”

Finis
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Extra Lessons Are Always Appreciated