La la la…this one just kind of came to me one night. ^^; Neville screws up yet another potion, and someone stares at someone else. Slightly slashy, and generally yummy, ^^ its super-short, not even breaking 1000 words…but fun, all the same!

Rating: PG, for a bit of naughty thoughts

Disclaimer: Ah, I'll take "I don't own 'em" for $300, Alex…

Smooth as Sin

They were, decidedly, the most beautiful pair of legs he had ever seen. They were long and pale and silky-smooth, without an ounce of fat or an inch of hair. And for the first time in five years, he was glad that Neville was a klutz. Glad that Neville had not only botched his Healing Potion, but also had somehow made it explode all over the room, turning the usually-cold and damp Dungeons into a humid sub-tropical sauna. (Resulting in a grand total of thirty points taken from Gryffindor.)

And so, while his students baked in their own juices, Professor Snape continued with the lesson, leaving the unmerciful job of damage correction to the very person whom had created the problem.

The students wanted to cry from the heat, but knew better. Instead, they would roll up the sleeves of their robes, girls would tie their hair up, and small fans were Transfigured out of bits of parchment.

One student, however, opted for the highest amount of comfort one can get without becoming indecent. A pair of trousers had been wriggled out of underneath the concealment of the long black robes, hands were pulled into the billowing sleeves and proceeded to remove tie, vest and outer shirt, then the same sleeves were carefully pushed up and held perfectly in place by a simple charm. And then the hem of the robe lost a good two feet. The bottom of the school robes was pulled up to sit prissily in a lap, baring everything from mid-thigh down to the black dragon leather boots that laced halfway up each calf.

Less then he would see in the Quidditch changing rooms, but certainly more than he though ever to see of the person in question.

Not that he was objecting; those beautiful legs had never seen the light of the sun, and surely there must have been a hair-removal charm used…no one had legs so perfect. They were the perfect legs, really, aside from one minor flaw. As he followed the line of the legs up, up, past the bared flesh, the person attached to those legs was…not his favourite person on Earth. Not his least favourite, but certainly close down the list.

If his aunt and uncle had known his thoughts at that very moment they would screech at his that he was going to Hell, not only for looking at 'one of them' and being 'one of them,' but also because the 'one of them' happened to be male. If his Mum and Dad had known his thoughts, they would cry, for the father of the boy Harry was so intently looking at was the right-hand man of the man who had killed them both. If Hermione and Ron had known…

A sharp elbow collided with his ribs. Damn. Hermione did know. "Stop staring!" she hissed under her breath.

Emerald eyes tore themselves away from the mesmerizing flesh and looked straight ahead at the Potions Master who was watching them all, his customary scowl firmly in place. Well then, that's a sight. Harry shuddered, all effects of those pesky hormones that popped up on occasion gone. Snape usually had that effect on people.

It wasn't long before his eyes slowly gravitated back towards those lovely, creamy legs; he couldn't help himself. They were smooth as sin, and twice as tempting. He wondered what it would be like to touch them, just once, just for a bit. The thought of it sent a little electric tingle down his spine, and goosebumps magically appeared on his arms even though it was close to 100 degrees in the Potions classroom.

He closed his eyes, the imprint of those two long, indecently skewed legs burned onto his retinas. Vaguely he wondered who had had the pleasure before of touching those legs; anyone who had must die. They were not legs to be touched by normal human hands. No. They were meant to be placed in a museum, high upon a pedestal for everyone to see, yet not to touch. Never to touch.

They were beautiful legs, sinfully so, and it was a sin for him not to be able to touch them. But if he did… No, he could never touch. He could only sit, and stare, and think those lovely, inappropriate thoughts of sneaking underneath that table between those creamy white thighs and…

He shook his head. No, none of that; it was hot enough in the room as it was. Time to think of nice, innocent, clean things. Like his owl, or Quidditch, or…no, He played Quidditch, too. Something else then. Animals. Animals were safe; harry liked animals, especially small, cute ones that couldn't hurt him. Like kittens or puppies or ferrets. No. Damn! Ferrets made him think of Him, too.

This isn't working. Harry banged his forehead on the table. How much longer is this class? Not a double session today…should only be a few more minutes. He could last a few more minutes, he knew he could. Just a few minutes, then he would be free. Until then, he re-glued his eyes to The Legs.

Less than a minute…. A few seconds… Four…three...two… Harry was out of his seat the second Snape let the class go, and moved quickly to the other side of the room. He approached The Legs and placed a quick, harsh kiss on the lips of their owner before fleeing the dungeons.

Ron blinked at Hermione as their friend exited the room, "D'you think it was the heat that got to him?"

Ende. ^___^

Don't get me wrong, I love Neville. He's just so easy to pick on, and when I need a potion to explode or something of the sort, he's right there! ::huggles Nevvie:: Obviously Harry was staring at Draco. (who else could it have been?) ::waves a little Slytherin banner:: Didja like? Didja hate? You must tell me! ^-^ I can't write more if no one tells me what they think! T-T

Do I need a sequel? Yes? No? Maybe? I have no idea what I'd do…but if you want one, I'll think of something. ^.~

-=Keiran Shea=-

-Random Slytherin #1