"Twenty points from Gryffindor. Mister Potter, you will remain after class and clean up your mess."
Harry blinked back hot tears of anger, staring at the remains of his potions exam, sour green smoke still rising from the shards of iron and pottery. It was no good, he knew, to even bother protesting that Malfoy had slipped something into the cauldron when he'd passed Harry's table a few minutes ago. Even if Snape had seen it happen, he would still have taken points.
Hermione cast him a look of sympathy, and Ron was glaring daggers at Malfoy, all but shaking in his rage, fists clenched and face flushed. Ron opened his mouth, about to say something that would no doubt cost Gryffindor more points, but Hermione stayed him with a hand on his arm and a quick shake of her head. Subsiding with a huff of anger, Ron shot Malfoy a look that promised retribution, before turning his gaze to Harry. "Don't worry, mate," he whispered. "Malfoy'll get his later."
Harry glanced up to answer, and then quickly averted his gaze as Snape swept down on the trio once more, expression dark.
"Did you have something to share with the rest of the class, Mister Weasley?" he sneered, looking down his nose at Ron.
Ron quailed, looking down and shaking his head.
"As much as it would seem likely, I cannot hear your head rattle, Mister Weasley," Snape drawled, drawing snickers from the Slytherins.
"No, Sir, Professor," Ron forced out, his face nearly as red as his hair.
Snape smirked, and then turned away from Ron. "Class dismissed," he said, after a glance at the timepiece. "Mister Potter, I expect that mess to be cleared away quickly."
Waiting until the others had left, both Ron and Hermione glancing back at him after placing their bottled potions on Snape's desk, Harry pushed to his feet with a sigh. He moved to draw out his wand, only to find his wrist seized in a strong grip. Startled, he looked up into Snape's disdainful face.
"Stupid child," the Potions Master sneered. "The remains of the potion are unstable. Using magic on them could have unpredictable effects."
As the older man spoke, Harry found his gaze drawn to the strong, potion-stained fingers curled around his narrow wrist. He stared, trembling faintly, until Snape gave him a rough shake.
"Are you listening to me, boy? Merlin. Clean this mess up, and get out, Potter." Snape released the boy, and stalked off to the front of the room.
Harry's gaze followed his teacher across the room, and then he swallowed, shaking his head to clear it. Shifting to kneel beside his desk, he began the painstaking task of cleaning up the pieces of cauldron, before wiping up the remains of his potion. By the time he was finished, Snape was watching him impatiently from the front of the room. Casting nervous glances toward his professor, Harry gathered up his books and papers, and then headed towards the door. Snape said nothing to him, just watched him leave.
Harry hurried down the hallway, eager to rejoin his friends, and to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeons. So focused was he on his recent humiliation at Snape's hand that he didn't see the leather-shod foot suddenly thrust into his path from the shadows. He recognized Malfoy's vicious laughter, however, as he sprawled ass over teakettle on the floor.
"You... wanker," Harry hissed, scrambling to his feet with a wince and snatching up his books and papers. At thirteen, his vocabulary lacked truly fierce profanity.
Malfoy laughed again, arms crossed over his chest as he smirked at Harry, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him as always. "Aww, did ickle Harry hurt himself?" Malfoy sneered. "What are you going to do about it, Potter?"
Harry fumed, taking a step towards the other boy. "Afraid to fight fair, Malfoy?" he shot back. "You can't face me one on one, huh?"
"Like hell I'm afraid of you," Draco snapped in retort. "You want a one on one? Fine. Meet me under the dungeon stairs tonight at midnight. Unless you're the one too afraid."
Glowering at his rival, Harry nodded once, jerkily. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll be there. If you want a duel, you'll get one." Then he turned on his heel, and stormed off down the hallway, unaware of the cruel smile curling Malfoy's lips behind him.
Just as the clock in the Great Hall struck midnight, Draco stepped into the alcove under the dungeon stairs, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Smirking, Malfoy moved to lean against the stone wall, crossing his ankles and his arms, the picture of feigned calm. Goyle moved to drop a bundle of clothing in to the dark corner, then stepped back into the circle of light cast by the lantern in Crabbe's hand.
"What if he doesn't show up," Crabbe questioned, casting somewhat nervous glances towards the dark hallway.
Malfoy snorted inelegantly. "He'll show up. His bloody stupid Gryffindor pride won't let him back out." He flashed a cruel grin. "He wouldn't want to be humiliated like that." Somewhat amused, he had to wonder if Crabbe or Goyle were bright enough to get the joke he was implying.
Goyle gave a laugh, but his expression and the tone of the laughter left little doubt as to his lack of understanding, much the way a 4-year-old child laughs at an adult's joke without knowing in the least what they're laughing about. Crabbe just blinked at Malfoy, brow slightly furrowed. "Oh. Right." He peered towards the hallway again, shifting his feet and making the lantern in his hand swing, its flickering light casting darker and more sinister shadows along the walls.
Rolling his eyes, Draco re-crossed his ankles and gave a small sigh of impatience. Then he grinned again. "Either way, whether he shows up or not, he'll be the laughing stock of the school," he drawled, amused and pleased with himself.
"He will be?" Crabbe questioned, brow furrowed again, glancing aside at Goyle. Then he straightened up, the lantern swinging wildly again, as footsteps clattered on the stone stairs above. Goyle mimicked Malfoy's grin, then turned towards the sound of the footsteps as well, looking upwards.
Draco also glanced up, and his grin widened. "Here he comes. You two had better be ready." With a nod, Crabbe leaned to set the lantern down at Malfoy's feet before moving to lumber back deep into the shadows, where he wouldn't be seen. Goyle blinked in confusion, and then with a grunt of dawning realization - overcast, but dawning - followed Crabbe back into the shadows.
The footsteps paused a moment at the foot of the stairs, then continued to the entrance of the alcove. Potter was just a dark shadow in the opening, as he peered in at Malfoy, wand in hand. "I'm surprised you showed up, Malfoy," he whispered loudly.
Draco didn't move right away, maintaining his facade of nonchalant ease. Then he snickered and replied in a normal tone of voice, sounding loud in the comparative quiet under the stairs, "Why wouldn't I, Potter? I, unlike you, have no need to back out." Nodding to Harry's wand, his own wand still tucked away but easily within reach, he added. "Nor any need to be afraid."
Harry snorted in derision at that, and straightened his shoulders, stepping forward under the stairs. "So, what now? You're the one who called this duel, Malfoy. We doing it right here?"
Arching his brows, Draco eased casually away from the wall. "Duel? Oh, of course. You think we're here for a duel. Sorry to burst your bubble, Potter." Whipping his wand out from within the sleeve of his robe he pointed it at his rival. "Silencio! Now!"
Lunging forward from the side, Crabbe caught hold of Potter's right arm, wrenching the wand from his hand and sending it skittering out of the alcove and into the hallway. Right behind Crabbe, Goyle grabbed Potter's left arm, twisting it behind his back. With a wide grin, Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest again, watching with sadistic glee. "Not so special now, are you Potter?"
Shocked and rendered speechless - literally - it took Harry a moment before he started to struggle. But struggle he did, almost ripping his arm free of Crabbe's grasp. Not wasting effort on trying to speak, he tried to kick his way free of the larger boys holding him. With a grunt, Crabbe tightened his hold, jerking Harry's arm behind his back as well. Goyle widened his stance and yanked Harry's arm up higher, threatening to dislocate his shoulder.
Stepping forward, Draco smirked. "Oh, give it up, Potter. You've lost and you know it."
Harry would have yowled in pain if he could have; instead, his lips moved soundlessly. He still struggled, however, even as Goyle and Crabbe forced him down to the floor, pinning him on his back against the cold stone. "Okay, Draco," Crabbe grunted. "We've got him
Draco rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stepped forward, wand at the ready. "I'd tell you to cry Uncle, but... oh dear, you can't, can you?" He snickered again, amused at himself, but shot Goyle and Crabbe a narrow-eyed look when they, too, snickered. "Now then. Shall I still you with petrificus totalus, or shall I let these two hold you still while we finish up here, hmm?"
What Harry was saying couldn't be heard, but from the look on his face it was pretty clear he was cursing Malfoy, and most likely insulting his parentage. When Malfoy stepped closer, Harry went still a moment, and then lashed out with a Seeker’s reflexes, his heel connecting sharply with Draco's shin.
It's true what they say about a bully - fight back and they turn into cowards. Malfoy attempted to jump back, but wasn't quick enough. Yowling in pain and hopping on one foot, he clutched at his shin and cursed a blue streak. Blinking at the kick, Crabbe winced and shifted to pin Harry down more firmly, grabbing hold of his leg. Goyle put more of his not inconsiderable weight on Harry, but even as he put more effort into holding Potter in place, he couldn't help but snicker at the sight of Draco Malfoy hopping about on one foot like a git.
Harry grinned in gleeful triumph, watching Draco hop. At least he got some back. Sneering at his rival, he struggled futilely against Crabbe and Goyle's hold on him, well and truly pinned.
Rounding on Goyle with a snarl, and setting both feet on the ground again, Draco restrained himself only barely from kicking Potter in the balls. "You'll pay for that, Potter," he spat, pointing his wand at Harry's face from only a few inches away. "You'll pay. Hold his feet still, you lumbering behemoths."
As Crabbe leaned to pin Harry's arms more securely, Goyle lay across Potter's legs at the knees, effectively pinning him. Then he shrugged and yanked off the other boy's shoes and socks while he was down there. Cursing soundlessly and helplessly, Harry kept struggling, unable to move the much larger boys.
"Don't let him move," Draco ordered, as he stepped closer. Crabbe nodded, and shifted to pin Harry's arms to the ground with a knee and his right hand, laying his left forearm across the other boy's throat to hold him in place. Goyle kept his place across Harry's legs, managing somehow to stay out of Draco's way. Once the pair had Potter held firmly, Malfoy bent to unbuckle Harry's belt, giving him another grin. "Do hold still, now, won't you, Gryffindork?"
Harry's eyes flew wide when Draco unbuckled his belt, and he gave a silent shout, trying to kick his way free and shaking his head wildly.
Malfoy rolled his eyes again. "Oh, give it up, Potter. I have no intentions of sullying your pristine virginity." Nevertheless, he continued to unfasten Harry's pants.
Crabbe snickered at that, amused, as he pressed harder against Harry's throat to keep him still for Draco. Harry gagged from the pressure against his throat, seeing spots for a moment as he struggled. Even knowing it was useless, he couldn't stop himself from trying to fight Draco off, as the other boy pulled Harry's trousers open, revealing red and gold boxers.
Draco blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. "How disgustingly typical!" he crowed. "Bloody hell, Potter." Still snickering, he pulled Harry's slacks down over his hips, snapping, "Goyle, shift your carcass so I can get these off of him."
Gathering himself, Harry waited until Goyle shifted, then kicked wildly again in an attempt to nail Draco. He only managed to clip Goyle in the jaw, making the larger boy fall back with a curse. Even though he missed his main target, a coil of vicious triumph burned in Harry's belly.
Draco sprang back, hissing, "Hold him still, you idiots!" Teeth bared in a snarl, Goyle grabbed hold of Harry's legs again, slamming his ankles together painfully and pinning them to the stone floor. Letting up on Harry's throat, Crabbe shifted his grasp to the smaller boy's narrow wrists, dragging his arms over his head to pin them to the floor. Arching his back off the floor, Harry strained against the painful hold, fighting back tears of anger and pain.
"Enough of this," Draco muttered, drawing out his wand. "Vestis amotio!"
The chill in the dark alcove raised goose bumps along Harry's skin, as he abruptly found himself pinned to the floor naked. Alone, and naked, with a group of junior Death Eaters. Panic replaced his anger for a moment, clawing through him and leaving him nauseated and shaking wildly.
"As much as I'd love to see you explain this, Potter, I have other plans for you," Draco gloated gleefully. Shifting to kick a bundle of clothing from the shadows closer to Harry, Malfoy once again waved his wand, almost lazily. "Vestis adicio."
Though once more clothed, Harry's shaking only increased as he realized what Malfoy had just dressed him in. Though he couldn't see himself, pinned as he was, he could feel the hem of the skirt brushing against his thighs, the knee socks snug around his calves, and the utterly alien feeling of snug panties pressing his balls and cock firmly against his skin.
Smirking with vicious glee, Draco stepped back to admire his handiwork, crossing his arms over his chest again. Cocking his head to the side, Goyle arched a brow, looking Harry over with amusement. "He looks pretty good as a Slytherin."
Refusing to admit to himself he was thinking pretty much the same thing, Draco narrowed his eyes furiously at Goyle. "Oh, shut it. Hold him, and stay out of the way." From within his robes he produced a wizarding camera - a fine one, no less, certainly expensive - and began to take pictures of Harry. "Wait until the Prophet gets a load of these pictures, Potter!" he laughed. "The Girl Who Lived!" Then to Crabbe and Goyle, "Get him up and against the wall, so I can get some better shots."
Crabbe stifled a sigh, not wanting to draw Malfoy's ire his way, and let go of Harry's feet, helping Goyle drag the struggling boy to standing. Each took an arm, using it to pin Potter firmly against the wall. In between flashes of the camera, Goyle idly slid a hand along one of Harry's pale thighs, causing the other boy to thrash and kick wildly, and drawing a peal of laughter from Draco. "Look at him flip out," he snickered. "Feel him up some more, Goyle."
Just as Draco finished speaking, a black-robed figure appeared at the alcove entrance. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Snape bit out, anger flashing in his dark eyes.
It took Goyle a moment, but Snape's voice penetrated the arousal trickling through him, and fright made him jerk his hands away from Harry, eyes wide. Oh shit! Panicking, Crabbe let Potter go, as well, shooting a terrified look at Draco.
Freed, Harry staggered forward, almost falling. Then a soundless shout of anger strained his throat, and he lunged at Draco.
Draco stared wide-eyed at Snape, mind working franticly to come up with a response, excuses and blame. Then Potter slammed into him and he went down in a tangle of robes with a yowl of surprise and pain, his camera skittering across the floor.
Pausing long enough to stoop and retrieve the camera, tucking it away into his robes, Snape then stepped into the fray with a scowl, grabbing Potter by the back of the neck, hauling him back off Draco. "Enough!" he bellowed. "Both of you, enough!"
Giving a soundless screech, Harry struggled against Snape's hold, trying to kick and punch Draco, so livid that he didn't even realize who had hold of him.
Fear knotting their stomachs, Crabbe and Goyle sidled towards the hallway, considering the wisdom of making a run for it. Draco scrambled back until he was against the wall, staring at Harry with wide, panicked eyes. "He attacked me!" he squealed. "You saw him! He attacked me! He could have killed me!"
Snape pinned Malfoy's goons with a glare, and then gave Harry a hard shake, fingers biting into the boy's nape. "Mister Potter! Stop it this instant or I shall immobilize you myself! And you, Mister Malfoy, would do well to keep silent."
Realization sunk in suddenly, and Harry went still, staring up at Snape as fear settled into his stomach like lead. Of all the people to find them, it had to be Snape! Even Filch would have been better! Shaking, Harry stood still other then trying to yank the hem of his skirt down lower.
Draco blinked up at Snape, putting on his best 'wounded innocent' expression. "But Professor, sir..."
Snape pinned Draco with the same glare he used on Goyle and Crabbe. Merlin spare him from stupid children. "Shut up, Mister Malfoy. Mister Potter, do stand still. Mister Crabbe, Mister Goyle, you will return to your dorm. I will speak to you about your punishment in the morning." Not needing to be told twice, Goyle and Crabbe cast one last look at Draco, and then beat a hasty retreat back to the dorm.
Panting in anger and fear, his chest heaving as he glowered at Draco, Harry tried to speak, and failed, looking up at Snape in frustration. The Potions Master arched a brow, and then flicked his wand idly, freeing Harry from the silencio. As soon as he could speak again, he spit out, "They attacked me! Look what they did to me!"
Draco flicked a furious glance after his cronies, and then gave Harry an incredulous look. "Attacked you? You're nutters! You attacked me!"
Snape sighed in exasperation. "Mister Malfoy, shut up! Fifty points from Slytherin. If you speak again, it will be one hundred points. Am I understood?"
Even as his knees shook from the yell, Harry goggled up at Snape. He took points from Slytherin! Equally stunned, Draco opened his mouth to say more, and then wisely clamped his lips shut and nodded. His pale, pointed face was blotchy with anger as he glared furiously at Harry.
Turning his attention to Harry again, Snape fought back a twitch of his lips. "Now, Mister Potter. One finds it difficult to believe that Gryffindor's Favourite Son willingly dressed up in a Slytherin girls' uniform. Would you care to explain, calmly, how you came to be so fetchingly attired?" Letting go of Harry's nape, he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down his prominent nose at the boy, his expression clearly unamused.
Harry's face turned nearly Weasley red, and he yanked on the hem of his skirt again. "They did this!" he replied. "Malfoy and Goyle and Crabbe! You're a sick fuck, Malfoy!" he added, as he twisted to glare at the other boy again.
Draco just barely managed to keep hold on his tongue, looking somewhat like he was strangling, as he shot a furious glare at Harry.
Snape sighed again. "You cannot follow even the simplest directions, can you, Mister Potter? Twenty points from Gryffindor for language and ten for failure to follow instructions. Now, explain to me, calmly, how you came to be dressed in a Slytherin girls' uniform."
Calm? How the hell could he be calm? Harry thought wildly. He was wearing girls clothing! "Malfoy jumped me, and stripped me!" he yelled. "He took pictures!"
Unable to contain himself any longer, Draco pointed at Harry, shouting, "He's lying! He's trying to get me in trouble!"
Snape arched a brow at Harry, and then pointed at Draco without looking at him. "One hundred points, Mister Malfoy. Care to try for two hundred?"
Harry reached up to yank at the green and silver tie around his neck, almost choking himself as he tore it free. Balling it up, he hurled it at Draco, yelling again. "You're sick!"
Eyes wide in shock Draco stared at Snape, speechless. One hundred points from Slytherin?!
Snape sighed yet again when Harry threw the tie and hollered at Draco. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter. Now. Shall we try once more? Calmly?"
Harry covered his face, reaction setting in more firmly, his shaking growing harder. God, stripped and humiliated like this. "Draco challenged me to a duel. When I got here, they jumped me, and stripped me, and put this on me." Well, it was mostly calm.
Snape's brows went up and he glanced at Draco. "Indeed. Mister Malfoy, have you an explanation?"
Draco snarled in fury. "He's lying. He's just trying to get me in trouble!"
"I'm not lying!" Harry shot back. "Why else would I be dressed like this!?"
Snape arched a brow again. "An interesting question, Mister Potter. Unfortunately, it seems I must take your word in this, as I can find no other reasonable explanation to contradict yours. Mister Malfoy, return to your dorm. You and your accomplices will be serving detention with me tomorrow evening. And... two hundred points from Slytherin." The look in his dark eyes clearly stated the punishment was being rendered because they got caught.
Draco stared, and then shoved past Harry, jostling the other boy sharply without even trying to hide that it was deliberate. "You'll pay, Potter," he muttered in passing.
Harry stumbled back against the wall, pain flaring through his shoulder as he banged it against the stone. Then he just covered his face again and sagged against the cold wall, still shaking from anger, fear and embarrassment.
Impassive, Snape watched Draco stalk off, and then reached to take Harry by the arm. "Come along, Mister Potter."
Harry lifted his head, face pale. "My clothes..."
Snape rolled his eyes. "Gather them up and come with me, Mister Potter," he said slowly, as if to a dimwit or a frightened animal.
Harry nodded jerkily, and then leaned down to gather up his clothing, unaware of how the skirt rode up his thighs. He held his clothing to his chest, including the tie he threw at Malfoy, and picked up his shoes.
Snape watched the boy, eyes darkening, and then gestured for Harry to follow him once again. "Come along," he ordered, not saying to where.
Harry swallowed hard, then ducked his head and followed. Shock beginning to settle in, it didn't really occur to him to question Snape's orders.
Snape led the way through the dungeon corridors to a patch of bare wall between two flickering sconces. Flicking his wand at the wall, he murmured something in Latin that Harry couldn't catch, and a door opened in the smooth stone. Stepping back, he waved Harry in ahead of him.
Without thinking, Harry stepped forward obediently into the room, then blinked and looked around himself as Snape stepped in close behind him, the wall resealing itself soundlessly.
The room was small and barren, holding only a single chair and a coat stand. "Leave your clothing on the chair, and follow me," Snape ordered briskly, moving past Harry and opening the door on the other side of the room, stepping through.
Harry stared after Snape, and then looked around the small anteroom again before stepping over to drop the bundle of his clothing on the chair and setting his shoes on the floor. What was he doing here? He'd assumed Snape was taking him to Dumbledore. Nervously, he stepped towards the doorway, hovering in the opening and peering into the room beyond.
He was surprised to see a fairly cozy room, with numerous bookshelves and a comfortable looking sofa facing a fireplace. Harry stepped further into the room, looking about for Snape, and then went still as he spotted the man. Snape was standing beside a desk that was set against left wall, watching him intently, a glass of some pale liquid in his right hand.
"S-sir?" Harry braved, and to his amazement, the corner of Snape's mouth curled into an altogether unpleasant smile.
Tossing back whatever the liquid was, Snape set the glass aside, and advanced on Harry, his eyes intent enough to make Harry squirm under that dark gaze. Feeling horridly exposed, Harry gripped the hem of his skirt again, tugging downwards on it. His breath hitched slightly in fear as Snape loomed over him, gazing down at him with that same frightening curl of a smile on his lips. "Well, Mister Potter... Or should that be Miss Potter?" Snape drawled. "You have gotten yourself into quite the predicament it would seem."
Uneasy, Harry shifted from one foot to the next, swallowing hard. "Are... are you going to call Dumbledore?" he got out, his voice cracking slightly.
"You wish the Headmaster to see you so attired?" Snape replied, tone sardonic, with a hint of amusement.
Blinking, Harry quickly shook his head, paling more. "Uh... no. I hadn't thought of that."
A snort answered that statement. "How surprising," Snape drawled, taking a step forward, crowding Harry. "When do you ever think, Mister Potter?"
Swallowing again, Harry backed away from the Potions Master, his unease blooming into fear. "I... That is, I..." He broke off, startled, as his back hit the stone wall, and he lifted his head to stare at Snape with wide eyes.
That slight smile turned darker, something unpleasant flashing through Snape's eyes as he shifted to pin Harry to the wall with his body. "Don't think, Potter," he sneered. "You might do yourself irreparable harm."
Harry startled, trying to shrink away as strong, yellowed fingers closed tightly around his wrists, yanking his arms up above his head and pressing them to the cold wall behind him. "P-professor..." he stammered, heart hammering in his chest. "What are you...?"
The rest of what Harry was trying to say was cut off as Snape's mouth came down hard on his, Snape's fingers tightening around Harry's wrists. Eyes flying wide, Harry attempted to jerk away, but was easily held in place by the much larger man. Snape's kiss was hard and demanding, and Harry trembled wildly as Snape's tongue plundered his mouth.
Raising his head after a moment, Snape smirked down at Harry, seemingly unruffled other than the heat in his dark eyes. For his part, Harry was panting raggedly, shocked, and trying to wriggle away from the hands holding him.
"Not bad, Potter," Snape chuckled mirthlessly. He shifted back just enough that he could sweep Harry with his gaze, the corner of his mouth curling again. "Not bad at all. Silver and Green suits you, as does the skirt. You really are an uncommonly pretty boy."
Harry could do nothing but stare up at Snape in astonishment, at both the kiss and the seeming complement. "Let me go," he rasped out, finding his voice at last.
"No, I think not," Snape replied, baring a brief flash of teeth. "Not until I'm finished with you." Ducking his head, Snape claimed Harry's mouth once more, lips demanding and punishing. Transferring his hold on Harry's wrists to one hand and keeping them pinned to the wall, Snape drew the other in a sweeping caress down Harry's side, chuckling inwardly as the boy squirmed against him.
Harry tried to protest, but Snape's mouth muffled him effectively, and all he could do was attempt to twist away from the older man, panic fluttering in his belly. This was far worse then Malfoy's laughter, or Goyle's hand on his thigh.
Lifting his head again, Snape licked his lips, then the corner of Harry's mouth, before smirking one more. Stepping back slightly, he gripped Harry's hip, turning him abruptly and then pinning him to the wall once again.
"Stop!" Harry choked out, his breath coming in sharp gasps, his back arching as he tried to twist away from Snape. The older man just laughed, a sound that sent chills down Harry's spine, and the boy closed his eyes tightly, unable to believe this was happening as he felt Snape's hand caress his hip, and then slide lower under his skirt.
Merlin, what a beautiful arse the boy had. Snape shook his head slightly, and then hooked his fingers in the flimsy panties Harry was wearing. He tore them free, enjoying both the sound of rending fabric and Harry's sharp cry of fear and distress. Tossing the fabric aside, Snape stroked his hand over the smooth skin, smiling to himself. The boy was so pale and soft. It would be such a pleasure to mark him, to leave marks to remind the boy who had had him, and to whom he now belonged.
Harry shuddered hard, eyes tightly closed, his fingertips curled against the stone. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Why would Snape, of all people, be doing this to him? A low cry spilled from him as Snape's fingers slipped between his cheeks, touching him intimately. His trembling grew harder, and even though a voice in his head shrieked at him to fight back, to kick, bite, anything, he was too shocked and shaken by the evenings events to gather himself enough to do anything but plead. "P-professor, sir, please..." he whimpered, and then almost sagged in relief when Snape's fingers left him. "Oh God, please. Let me go," he rasped out.
Smirking still, Snape slid his free hand into his pocket, taking out a small potion bottle. It would do as a lubricant. Gripping the bottle with his teeth, he pulled the cap out, and let some drizzle over his fingers, before capping it again. Careful not to bite down on the glass, he slid his hand under Harry's skirt once more, slick fingers stroking over his opening, before pressing one finger firmly forward.
Harry gave a startled cry, eyes going wide again, and tried to climb the wall in front of him to get away from Snape's invading finger. The Professor had him well pinned, however, and he couldn't do much other than squirm helplessly.
Snape chuckled darkly again, working a second finger into the boy, dark eyes fixed on the side of Harry's face, enjoying the shock and fear crawling over his features. He slicked Harry’s passage well and then pressed deeper, ignoring the panicked protests and curling his fingers forward, rubbing them firmly over Harry's prostate. He was rewarded by a sharp jerk and a keening cry as pleasure shot through Harry's nerves.
His cock beginning harden, Harry arched back against Snape's fingers, wanting to feel that, whatever that was, again. God, he'd never felt anything like that. Silent, fumbled wanking in his bed at night was nothing in comparison. When Snape's fingers pressed against that spot again, Harry tossed his head back, gasping loudly at the pleasure. "Uhhnn! Good..." he mumbled, as Snape's fingers soon had him trying to climb the wall again, but this time for other reasons, his cock throbbing.
Snape smirked around the bottle in his teeth, fingers thrusting inside the boy easily now. It was almost too easy. He rubbed his fingers firmly over Harry's prostate again, and again, listening to the telltale hitching of the boy's breathing. Then he withdrew his fingers, and eased back enough to open his robes, freeing his own hard cock. Then he took the bottle from his teeth, drizzling some of it over his cock and hissing out a breath. Recapping the bottle, he pocketed it and curled his fingers around himself, spreading the lubricant over his cock with a low groan.
Harry shifted restlessly against the wall, moaning softly as the sensitive tip of his cock rubbed against the fabric of his skirt. He whimpered in protest when Snape withdrew his fingers, then tensed as he felt something much larger press against him.
"Relax," Snape murmured into Harry's ear, and then pressed forward into the boy, slowly but firmly. He closed his eyes, lip curling at the sharp yelp of pain his entry wrenched from Harry. Short, sharp thrusts worked his cock slowly into the boy, and he groaned low in his throat as he buried himself fully in the tight heat.
Low mews of pain and shock spilled from Harry as he clutched at the wall, eyes impossibly wide. He shook wildly, breath hitching painfully in his chest, and then gave a louder cry of pain as Snape began to thrust, slowly but steadily. Fingers bit into his hip, Snape's other hand tightening around his wrists as the older man groaned low in pleasure, driving his cock deeply into Harry. Tears overflowed, slipping down flushed cheeks, as Harry pressed his brow to the wall, praying this would be over with soon.
Leaning forward, Snape lapped at the soft spot behind Harry's ear, and then trailed his lips down the boy's throat. Shifting his stance, he angled his thrusts to drive his cock against Harry's prostate, at the same time sinking his teeth into the boy's throat through the fabric of his shirt.
Harry's eyes flew wide again as first the pleasure and then the pain hit him. He shrieked loudly, his body bucking against Snape's, heat clawing its way through him. Shaking so hard now that he'd be on the floor without Snape holding him up, Harry moaned raggedly, his cock twitching and swelling to full hardness once again.
Snape smirked when he heard Harry moan, and let go of the boy's wrists at last, gripping the narrow hips with both hands. He groaned again, low, then his fingers bit sharply into Harry's skin as he thrust harder and faster into him, driving his cock against Harry's prostate each time and wringing shriek after shriek from the boy.
Harry clutched at the wall with both hands, fingers scrabbling against the stone as Snape's thrusts turned brutal, fucking him hard and fast, the man's nails scoring Harry's hips. Loud, urgent cries and wordless pleas fell from Harry's lips as he arched back against Snape, the pleasure and pain coiling in a knot at the base of his aching cock. Then all of a sudden, it tore loose, and Harry screamed, nails raking the stone as he came hard, spilling his seed against the fabric of his skirt.
Snape sucked in a sharp breath as the boy's inner muscled clamped down and fluttered around him, then he gave a ragged moan and tipped his head back, fucking Harry brutally until his own release slammed into him, and he drove deep into the boy, holding still as his cock jerked and pulsed out his seed.
Harry sobbed raggedly as Snape filled him. He made a choked sound, shuddering hard, when the older man withdrew and stepped back, feeling somehow empty. His knees buckled and he sagged to the floor, sliding down the wall and pressing his burning cheek to the cool stone.
Setting his robes to rights, Snape watched the boy, expression once again inscrutable. "Perhaps now you will keep to your curfew," he smirked, moving back over to his desk, and refilling his glass.
Unable to move, Harry just leaned against the wall for a long while, letting his heartbeat slow and his cock stop throbbing. Before long, however, the ache in his arse drove him to lift his head, looking at Snape with a shell-shocked expression.
Another dark half-smile curled the corner of Snape's mouth, as he swirled his drink in his glass. "You look quite well fucked, Mister Potter," he drawled. Then he jerked his head towards the entryway. "Change into your proper uniform, and get out. Leave that one on the chair."
Harry blinked, then flushed and pushed to his feet slowly, biting his lip hard against the pain. Once on his feet, he dashed a hand at his cheeks, and then gave Snape a defiant look. Under that dark gaze, however, his angry words of accusation froze on his tongue, and he quickly returned his gaze to the floor. Moving slowly, he edged away towards the door, keeping a wary eye on Snape from under his lashes. The professor simply smirked, making no move to pursue Harry.
Harry undressed and redressed as quickly as he could, and then startled when the wall slid open for him. He glanced back, but Snape wasn't in evidence so he slipped out before the door changed its mind. Making his way back to Gryffindor tower, he retrieved his invisibility cloak from the stairs, concealing himself under it to slip back into his dorm unseen.
Unable to sleep, Harry lay in bed, staring at the canopy of his bed, his body aching. He bit his lip, then shuddered and slid a hand under the covers, curling his fingers around his cock. Focusing on the ache in his arse, remembering how it felt as Snape fucked him, he brought himself to a second climax, biting his lip hard enough to break the skin as he came. Only then was his mind exhausted enough to let him sleep, though he didn't rest easy, his dreams full of pain that mingled with pleasure, and knowing black eyes.