Warning: Contains sex scene, underage drinking and God knows what else some people may find offensive.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the characters or original storyline of Harry Potter and I make no money from this fic.
Well, I know I should probably be working on My Dobe, but this came to mind as I sat through a rather interesting lecture on Creative Writing. Damn plot bunnies...
My Nomad friend wanted me to try at something I dislike or didn't do much. Well I dislike Ginny and I don't really do het f/m relationships, so here's my attempt. A guess what? No slash... I deserve a cookie for that at least I think, I controlled myself very well.
I hope you enjoy this oneshot, please let me know what you think.
Harry felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he stared at the sight before him. His eyes watched transfixed as her head was thrown back, long red hair parting to reveal the slightly tanned, naked back that arched in pleasure. Defined arms stretched above her head – one hand coming to clutch at the red hair against her scalp, her face a mask of pure bliss – lips parted. The muscles in her legs clenched on either side of the creamy pale body beneath her as she rose and fell in a rhythm that only they knew. Pale, agile fingers swept across the tensed muscles of her legs and up to the swell of her breast, encircling them before squeezing gentle.
Harry stood frozen as moans and cries of pleasure attacked his ears from the pair of lovers the partially opened door revealed. His startled eyes were wide, as he drank in the sight of his girlfriend arched in total rapture, his mouth opened in disbelief.
It wasn't everyday that one saw their girlfriend riding your enemy's hard cock. Willingly too if the heated clash of tongues, that followed a particularly hard thrust, was anything to go by.
Harry had been pretty sure that this only ever happened in those olden stories, where the King walks in to find his Queen and his right-hand man in an embrace. Like Guinevere and Lancelot. He now felt rather sympathetic towards King Arthur – even if they were in slightly different situations.
A sound startled the teen to turn from the door that led to the Room of Requirements and into the now lit third-floor hallway. (1) His eyes focused onto the looming form of his most dreaded professor, as the man held his lit wand high.
"And what are you doing out after curfew? Hmm..Mr Potter," the tall man said patronisingly as he sneered at the pale and slightly panicked student before him.
He noticed the slightly opened door to the Room of Requirements and raised an eyebrow, glaring at his most hated student, before moving towards the door.
"Y-you," Harry squeaked before clearing his throat and starting again,
"You don't want to look in there Professor."
Scoffing at the boy, he pushed him to the side and pushed the door slightly more opened before standing stock-still at the sight that left Harry standing in the same position moments before.
The two lovers had turned and now Ginny was laying on her back amidst the tangled sheets, legs raised to her chest as her pale, aristocratic lover slammed into her over and over. Wanton cries escaped the red-haired girls lips as Draco repeatedly hit her pleasure spot. His pale blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and his head tilted back – eyes clenched shut as the pleasure ran through his body.
Snape paled drastically – if that was even possible – as he watched his godson and the Weasley chit – Potter's girlfriend – in their embrace.
Getting his senses together, he quickly and quietly shut the door to the couple and turned his attention to his other student. He took in the pale complexion of the normally tanned boy, and his wide panicked eyes. Noticing the slightly quick breathing of the boy in shock and the trembling body looking as if he would collapse at any moment, he let out a soft sigh.
In a moment of sympathetic and rather uncharacteristic behaviour, he softly spoke to the trembling child,
"Follow me Potter."
Leading a totally unresisting and in-shock Boy-Who-Lived down the corridor to the dungeon and into his Private office. He sat the unseeing boy onto the soft, black leather lounge that was seated against the wall behind his desk. Retrieving and warming up a vial of calming potion he coaxed Harry to drink it before heading over to the cabinet on the opposite wall.
Harry, slowly calming down focused on his still trembling hands before looking up at his surroundings before landing on his Potions Professor. He watched slightly shocked as his most hated professor returned with two tumblers of reddish-brown liquid he knew to be Firewhisky, handing one over to him before sitting down in the comfortable chair behind his desk – facing Harry.
"Drink up, it will help warm you," Snape said shortly before knocking back his own shot.
With a hesitant shrug, he knocked his head back and sculled the drink – nearly chocking it back up as the fiery liquid ran a path of fire and heat down his throat. Looking up startled through his coughing fit, he bared witness to Snape laughing.
With a smirk towards the wide-eyed boy, Snape refilled his tumbler – and then in an afterthought, Harry's too. Sitting back, he sipped his drink and watched Harry pull himself upright to look him in the eye.
"I'm sure we didn't really need to see that," Snape murmured quietly as he watched the boy pale slightly.
"No, I'm sure we didn't," Harry replied before knocking back his second tumbler of Firewhisky.
Prepared this time for the burning sensation, he didn't end up coughing and spluttering as much as the first time.
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Snape simply refilled the boys tumbler and settled back to get smashed and burn the images from his mind with his most hated student.
(1) I wasn't sure what corridor the Room of Requirements was on, and I don't have my books with me to check. This is just a rough estimate, if it's wrong - tell me and I will fix it. This hasn't be beta'd yet.
