Snape's Class
Friday
The wind whistled through his ebony hair. It was a Quidditch match against Slithern. Harry and Draco were flying neck and neck. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco's determined grin. His teeth were glinting in the sunshine, but his skin was even whiter. Then Draco said, "Potter! You put in too much wolfsbane!"
What?
Harry blinked and realized he was still in the dingy potion's lab. It was only Friday; the Quidditch match wasn't until Sunday. Draco was sneering at him from across the table. He looked down at his cauldron; the liquid was turning deep purple. It was supposed to be green!
Blast! Thought Harry.
Harry searched his brain for something clever to say. He found it, and with a grin, said: "At least I'm not sleeping with Snape to get a good grade!"
If that didn't make Draco spill a whole jar of rat skin extract into his potion, he didn't know what would.
Draco opened his mouth, but nothing came to him. Luckily Snape was browsing the isles of students, and at that moment, stopped beside Draco.
"What's going on here?" he said.
"Nothing!" Harry said hurriedly.
"Look what Potter did! He managed to get it a deep purple." Draco supplied.
"Yeh, well, nice hair!" Harry said to Draco, and immediately felt embarrassed. Hermione, who was standing beside him, shook her head in utter disapproval. Snape raised a finely arched eyebrow and Draco sneered again.
"Yeh, well, nice potion." Said Snape in a mocking voice.
"That's ten points from Gryffindor for failure to follow instruction."
"That's not fair!" Hermione burst out.
"Five more points for arguing with the professor's authority!" Snape boomed.
Harry grumbled, and Snape said, "I'll see you in detention!"
"Ha. Ha." Draco sneered once more, and Snape pretended not to hear.
Harry arrived a little early on Saturday. Snape wasn't there yet. Harry sat down in the front row and waited as patiently as he could. He put his head down on the desk. He hadn't got much sleep last night, because Hermione had kept him up to tell him how disappointed she was. And then Ginny had showed up and of course, Harry had to spend some with her. She was his girlfriend, after all! Suddenly he noticed a silvery glint of a silver watch embellished with fine jewels and knew it could only be that of his archenemy—Draco Malfoy! The lithe figure of Draco emerged from the shadows and said, "What are you doing here Potter?"
"I might ask you the same question, Malfoy."
Just then Snape entered with his cape swirling about him like the shadows that Malfoy had just emerged from. " Ah, good, you are both here." His lip curling with the satisfaction of his prey.
"Potter, I want you to get to work arranging these jars and bottles in alphabetical order." He pointed to a large collection of vessels filled with lovely tinctures worthy of any girl's thickly lashed orbs. There was even one that reminded Harry of Ginny's own fine hue. And only few really were able to appreciate that hue.
"Draco, I want you to work on transforming this tea pot into an armadillo." Snape said. "The magic words are yellishonovum! And don't forget the right wand stroke!" Snape went and sat at his desk.
Harry set to work arranging the bottles, while watching Draco attempt his transfiguration assignment. He realized how cute Draco was when he was frustrated.
The bones stuck out in his slender wrists as he flicked his wand. It flew around the room like a delicate butterfly and Harry's heart did the same. "Wait, what's happening to me? This is my arch nemesis, but yet…looking at him makes me feel like a just drank a mug of warm butterbeer." Harry thought.
"What are you looking at, Potter?" Draco snapped."I was just noticing how much you look like that armadillo." Harry quipped.
They both looked over at the feebish brown rat with scaly plates on its back. Harry's cheeks were turning red from his embarrassment, and Draco too looked a bit uncomfortable.
"Shut up both of you and get back to work." Snape yelled.
For the next ten minutes or so, Harry continued to rearrange the shelf, and felt Snape's eyes upon him, watching every movement Harry made. Harry knew that Snape liked everything organized well, but this attention was making him uncomfortable.
Harry was so fed up with Snape's peevish eyes upon him, that he devised a plan to remove Snape from the room. Harry slipped the last bottle of gillyweed into the pocket of his robe.
"Sir," Harry said, turning to face Snape, "It seems we have run out of gillyweed."
"Are you sure? You are blind, aren't you?" Snape said, pointing to Harry's glasses.
"I am sure. There is none left." Harry replied.
Snape poked his greasy nose into the cupboard to look around.
"It seems you were right for once." He said. "Well, I'll take care of it now. I'm sure you two boys can manage yourselves for five minutes."
And he swept out of the room, his cloak swirling about him.
There was silence for a few minutes, and then Draco spoke up, his silvery tones rising from the darkness and gloom of the dungeon. "I saw you swipe that gillyweed Potter! What do you think you're doing?"
"I didn't do that," Harry said, lamely.
"Yes you did. I saw you!" Draco insisted, and in three quick strides he had crossed the room. Before Harry knew it, Draco was feeling around Harry's robe for the jar.
"What..!" Harry said, again lamely. He was in a state of shock – Draco!
Draco's fingers came across something that he thought was the jar. Suddenly there was a crash and gillyweed spewed across the floor, but the mysterious bulge remained in Draco's fingertips. There was a sweetly nervous feeling growing in Harry's stomach. And his lower lip started to quiver. Draco, however, was looking thoroughly embarrassed.
Noise in the corridor prevented an awkward moment.
"Bloody hell!" Harry said, "It's Snape! Here, help me pick up this mess!"
Draco rushed to help him, and Harry was sure it was because he wanted to occupy his mind, and keep it away form the embarrassment.
"Throw it in the cauldron!" Harry says. He looked inside and found some hot water; apparently, Snape had been planning a potion. But he couldn't worry about that now. He threw the gillyweed into the cauldron.
"You get the glass!" He said, frantically scooping up more slimy gillyweed.
"Ow!" Draco said, "I've cut myself!"
As he stood up, he slipped on the slimy floor. Harry threw out a hand to support him, and Draco grabbed it. The gillyweed smooshed into his blood, turning his palm an ugly brownish color.
Just then they noticed there was no Snape. They heard a crash and Peeve's maniacal cackle receding down the corridor.
"We're safe," breathed Harry, and turned around. There was a strange glow in Draco's eyes. They went to the sink to wash their dirty hands. What they did not know, because they had not been paying attention in Snape's potion class, that gillyweed was an afrodiasiac. It had gotten into Draco's blood stream through the cuts in his palm. That is why Harry did not understand, when Draco turned to Harry with an even stronger glow in his silver eyes.
"You've cut your hand, Potter." Draco caressed Harry's fingertips, then lifted them up to his lips and kissed them.
"There, all better." He said, a little bit of Harry's blood still on his lips.
Unexpectedly, Harry had the strangest urge to reclaim his blood.
Harry moved closer and licked the warm, red liquid off of Draco's two blushing pilgrims.
Harry was dismayed to realize that he was wearing his smallest pair of pants. He had not gotten to the seamstress this year and his pants were too tight. Ron had dragged him away from the seamstress to look at new racing brooms, and then Hermione had wanted him to look at outfits for Crookshanks. His small pants could not conceal his growing excitement!
Draco's hair started coming out of its mold. It stuck up in all directions and was very sexy. It flopped in his cold grey eyes – which were now alight with passion! His hair could not conceal his growing excitement!
Running through Harry's brain were all Hermione's sex ed lectures! But he was too distracted by Draco's spidery fingers, which were crawling all over Harry's body.
"Your hair's in your face, Potter." He said in a wicked, but oh so delicious voice. Draco ran his fingers through Harry's jet-black hair and sent a shiver down his spin. Harry had dated many girls, but none moved with the grace that Draco had. The hand that had caught the snitch for Slithern so elegantly was now grasping the back of Harry's head and pulling him closer. Meanwhile Draco's other hand was fumbling with the zipper on Harry's pants. Harry could feel his blood heating up and rushing to his cheeks.
"That's a great color on you." Said Draco. Harry giggled, which was very unmanly, but Draco did not seem to notice. Harry's zipper was stuck! Draco's quick thinking solved the problem – he was cute, and had brains. He scooped some of the gillyweed from the cauldron and used it get the zipper open. Then suddenly the zipper broke free! Harry couldn't quite explain what was happening – all he could think of was an expression Ron would use when the two snuck into Fred and George's room to read dirty magazines. Quite simply: Harry's cow popped out of the barn door and mooed dangerously. And then, quite simply, Draco began milking the cow.
Harry moaned in pleasure. Draco ripped his shirt off. Harry could not help but notice the finely carved stomach of Draco Malfoy. Harry took in the rippling, creamy muscles of Draco's stomach. Harry worried that someone would walk in on them, but in the next moment he forgot all about it. Draco pulled Harry's robe off and swirled his tongue in the soft baby rolls of Harry's stomach. Harry's body lit up like a thousand fireflies, traveling through his heart and into his blood stream. Harry pushed Draco back lightly and said, "No Draco, let me touch you, it's my turn. You can't have all the fun," following it up with a giggle and a wink.
Draco stammered, his silvery moon drop eyes widening.
"No Draco, don't ruin this moment with words."
Harry pressed his face into Draco's abdomen, moaning all the while. He had never seen a body so exquisite. He inched his way down, licking every inch of Draco's body. Harry finally arrived at the button of Draco's pants, which could not quite conceal Draco's growing excitement. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned Draco's pants. The pants slid off, revealing his average, but excellent length. Draco breathed a sigh of exquisite relief to finally have released the strong manhood that had been suffering such a cruel imprisonment inside that barricade of cloth ever since he woke up that morning. The fine hairs on Draco's legs glistened in the soft candle light of the dungeon. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's broad shoulders. Draco's small body shivered with pleasure against Harry's nakedness. Crystal tears of joy snaked across increasingly flushed cheeks, which were blooming like roses. The sweat drops sparkled on his cheekbones like dewdrops in the garden. Draco's own creamy flesh had taken on color that could now only be described as milky rose. His perception lost in a perfumed erotic fantasy far better than the one his wet dreams could have ever created. Draco suddenly pulled him out of this dream world by grabbing him and lifting his heavy body with a strength Harry did not know the boy possessed. He felt his body be thrown against the table, and then felt the wood against his exposure and vulnerability.
"Draco!--" Harry's glasses slipped from his nose and fell to the floor. But it didn't matter now! The delights that were being visited upon Harry's body might have become too great if he could see them too. Harry was content to feel the boy's sacred, pureblood flesh. Draco tenderly cupped Harry's ruddy cheek.
"Don't speak," Draco whispered, stealing Harry's own words. The breathing started to increase rapidly, though now developing a sort of rhythm. They were now both on the table laying next to each other, Harry with only his pants around his ankles and Draco only his tie and kissing violently. Harry knew Draco wanted to go all the way, but Harry had never done this before, and didn't know quite what to do. He was afraid of making a terrible mistake, ruining a moment that might never happen again! Harry and Ginny had done some fooling around – but nothing like this, and anyway, she lacked the passion – the male vitality of Draco's strong arms and firm body. She lacked, too, his intoxicating scent, a mixture of musky and exotic perfumes, a perfume that was now caressing Harry's whole body in waves; he felt was on a cloud. What did Muggles call it? Cloud Nine? Suddenly they heard the thunderous sound of Snape's footsteps approaching. Though Harry was frightened, his passion was oh so incensed. Harry's cup was about to over flow when Draco urgently whispered, "Quick, get dressed!" The two boys leaped down from the table and scrambled for their clothing. The cold floor on Harry's feet was a shock after the intense press of Draco's warm body, even his cloak seem cold and empty. As the footsteps grew louder, so did the thoughts in Harry's head. What if Snape knows what happened? When is this gillyweed effect going to wear off? Why am I so madly in love with my loathed enemy?
To be continued….