Just a reminder, this is a slash story, and if you don't like this concept or dislike the pairing then either hit the back button or click here.

‘I wonder what it would take to get him to say ‘ten points to Gryffindor’,’ Harry mused as yet another new insult was added to the long list of adjectives Professor Snape used to describe Harry’s potion making skills.

"Potter, are you in there?" Snape’s voice had taken on a mocking tone now. It wasn’t far from his usual dangerous purr, but it jolted Harry from wherever his mind had decided to wander. ‘It does that rather a lot’, thought Harry, as Snape ordered him to serve detention at 8pm that evening and moved on to terrorise Neville. ‘Especially when I’m around Snape’, and that thought sobered him up better than a bucket of cold water. Surreptitiously he looked around to see if anyone else had noticed him mooning over Snape, not that he had been mooning over Snape that was just ridiculous.

Fortunately Ron was having even more difficulty than he was with the deodorant potion they were supposed to be making, and so was frowning at his cauldron. Hermione, also, was too busy whispering words of comfort and instructions to Neville to notice her friend’s predicament. Harry heaved a silent sigh of relief, and put it down as his seventeen year old hormones getting the better of him. Again. He turned to his overly runny potion and carefully added extra flobberworm extract.

The bell for the end of class wasn’t that far away and when it sounded Harry was one of the first out of the door and heading up to lunch. All thoughts of Snape, potions, and the hard on he’d got when Snape had stood behind him, banished by the thought of food.

~*~*~*~*~

8pm duly arrived, bringing Harry to the door of the Potions’ classroom and the brief fleeting thought maybe, just maybe, he’d get lucky. The sight of Snape opening the dungeon door and waving him inside impatiently quickly dispelled that thought, however.

Harry was given the task of scrubbing out the cauldrons used by Snape’s third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They had been making Shrinking solution and several students had managed to let it burn so Harry had to scrub rather hard to get rid of the burnt on gunk. It also meant that with the unusual late September heat that lingered in the dungeons he was sweating profusely after only a few minutes.

Concentrating on a particularly stubborn bit of grime, it took a few moments for Harry to realise that Professor Snape was standing behind him again. Harry froze, the small puff of air that indicated Snape was pretty much breathing down his neck gave him an instant hard on. Which, stood as close to the sink as he was, was rather inconvenient not to say rather painful too. He hastily took a small step backwards to relieve the pressure, and let out a small gasp. Either Snape kept his wand in a rather funny place, or he too was similarly aroused. Harry wasn’t the only one to find the contact surprising, but neither of them moved.

Over the last few years Harry had gained several inches in height and now stood almost as tall as the Potions Master, and so his prick was at just the right height to rub along Harry’s crevice. Something that wasn’t all together as unpleasant as Harry might have imagined it to be.

The two men stood frozen for a moment longer and then Snape moved away hastily, his cheeks turning an amusing shade of red. But he didn’t move far enough and it was the work of a moment for Harry to re-close the distance between them and plant a rather demanding kiss on the stunned professor’s lips.

Snape returned the kiss as hungrily as Harry gave it, and very soon Harry’s fingers found the buttons of Snape’s robes and began undoing them, drawing on all his previous experience to prevent his hands shaking or doing a rush job and just ripping them off. When no resistance was met Harry began to slide the robes off of the professor’s shoulders and let them pool on the floor.

Draco hadn’t been lying when he’d informed Harry that professors rarely wore anything underneath their robes, for Snape was as naked as the day he was born. The voluminous black material had been concealing more than just Snape’s arousal too, he was revealed to be possessed of a very well kept physique. Something that Harry had always appreciated in his previous partners, and so stood back to admire the view.

Running a well versed hand over the delicious curves of Snape’s chest, he was delighted when Snape gasped whenever he so much as brushed across his nipples. His hands strayed lower with his eyes, and he slowly sank to his knees in front of Snape.

The old adage about men with big noses was certainly true in Snape’s case, but it was nothing that Harry couldn’t handle. With one hand holding the base at first and the other steadying Snape’s hips Harry started to take in Snape’s length. Running his tongue slowly round the sensitive head Harry moved his hand to caress Snape’s scrotum, massaging gently he drew more gasps and moans from the professor who was now sweating as badly as Harry had moments before.

Emboldened Harry took more of Snape in, until he had swallowed him up to the curls. Snape’s gasp of surprise told Harry that that didn’t happen often. Harry hummed with pleasure making the gasps turn to ragged pleas for mercy. Swallowing almost lazily Harry began to bob up and down, varying the suction and pressure on Snape’s sac. The hand on Snape’s hip prevented the older wizard from taking a more active part, for which Harry was grateful, as he didn’t think he could take him fucking his mouth. Not without a little practice first anyway.

When Harry felt Snape’s sac begin to contract he gently pulled down so he could prolong his torment. After all Snape had tormented him for six years so why couldn’t Harry torment him for a few more minutes?

When Snape finally came he did so with surprising force, and he sagged back against the bench behind him. Harry sat back on his heals and wiped a stray trickle of white from the corner of his mouth with obvious relish, he grinned up Snape who was still suffering from the after shocks of his intense orgasm.

"T-ten points t-to Gryffindor."

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