A/N: I had to do a Harry Potter slash. Everyone does a Harry Potter slash, and besides, I had a vague idea of what is laughingly known as a "plot".

Warning: Contains Yaoi (that's a man and another man having sex. Gasp. How sinful.) - don't like, don't read. Also contains rape in chapter 2.

Pairing: Severus and Draco.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, J.K.Rowling does. If I owned them, Draco would be the hero and Harry would be the villain.

You can rate if you want to, and flame away, I have a water spell to put out any fires.

The tip of a meticulously sharpened pencil lightly brushed the surface of the paper as Draco sketched the outline of a face. The object of his attention was speaking to the class, but Draco had no interest in Defence Against the Dark Arts. His father had taught him all he needed to know in the area of combat and there is no point in learning to defend yourself against something you do not need to fear.

Each strand of jet-black hair was drawn. Every contour of the face. He managed to capture the intelligence, the arrogance and the ghost of a sneer on the upturned corner of the mouth.

The cold gaze of his teacher swept the room until its rested on him.

"Malfoy, are you paying any attention to what I've been saying?"

He'd been caught out. Draco's entire body froze as he fixed his eyes on his teacher with what he hoped was a nonchalant expression. It wasn't detention that he feared; it was the possibility that his childish infatuation might be discovered.

"Of course, Professor. I was just making notes."

Two piercing eyes scrutinized him. He fought the urge to shiver. Those eyes violated him with their intensity.

"See me after class."

Draco let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. There wasn't going to be a confrontation in front of the entire class. Sev… Professor Snape was too discreet to embarrass him like that. It was even possible that he didn't know Draco's true feelings.

Those eyes held his gaze for a moment longer before turning back to the class, and Draco realised that he was deluding himself.

He dreaded the moment when they were alone together.

The last of the Gryffindors filed out, leaving Draco alone with his Professor. The boy sat nervously as his desk, unsure whether he was supposed to move. Snape seemed to have forgotten he was there; his entire attention appeared to be focused on paperwork. After a painful eternity, he spoke:

"A wise man does not presume to know everything."

Startled, Draco stared at the man, not knowing what to say. Snape looked up from his desk, giving Draco his full attention. Realising that he was supposed to respond, Draco said the only thing that came to mind.

"I-I don't presume anything, sir."

A thin eyebrow was raised, the only acknowledgement that he has spoken. Slowly, drawing the silence out in order to prolong Draco's suffering, Snape rose from his chair and crossed the room. He stopped when he reached Draco's desk, looming over the boy as he looked down on him from above.

"And yet you refuse to participate in my lessons," he said softly, planting his hands on the desk and leaning down to Draco's level. "Preferring instead to hone your skills as an artist."

Draco swallowed heavily. Had he seen the pictures? If he had, he must know about Draco's crush on him. He tried to avoid the professor's gaze, but Snape was so close that Draco had to physically turn his head away. A delicate hand reached up and grasped his chin, turning his head back to face Snape. Long, thin fingers stroked his cheek.

"You could be the greatest wizard who ever lived." Snape whispered in his ear. Draco's heart was beating so loudly that he almost didn't hear. "I can help you realise your potential. If you find it difficult to pay attention in my lessons, perhaps some… private tuition is necessary?"

Draco's chin was released from his grasp as the fingers slid away and the professor straightened up, crossing his arms to maintain some semblance of authority.

"Meet me here tomorrow night at eight o clock." He instructed. "Don't be late."

Draco nodded, grabbed his bag and escaped the classroom as quickly as possible without losing his composure. He pushed through the crowds of students thronging the hallways in the rush to get to their next lessons. Finally, he found his way out into the chill autumn air and leaned against the castle wall, panting heavily.

The rest of the day was spent in a waking dream. His thoughts travelled in circles, speculating about why Snape wanted to give him these private tuition sessions and what would happen tomorrow night. Did he really think that Draco had potential? In the past, he had shown a preference for Draco over other members of his class, but once he had become a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, this favouritism had ended and Draco had presumed that it was only because of his talent at Potions that Snape had taken an interest in the first place.

A wise man does not presume to know everything…

Tomorrow night could not come soon enough.

A/N: I repeat, the next chapter contains rape. But it's OK, Draco loves it, the little slut.