Harry Potter hated Potions class. He hated everything about it. Not only was it taught by his least favourite teacher at Hogwarts, Professor Snape, but he always had Potions with the Slytherins, and that included Draco Malfoy. If there was one person he hated more than Snape, it was Malfoy. Ever since the first time they met, they had been enemies. Also, he wasn't any good at it. So it was no surprise that Harry despised Potions. The only good thing about it was that it was the last class of the day.
As Harry sat at his normal table with his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, attempting to brew a seemingly simple potion, he began to drift off into a daydream.
Soft hands were slowly unbuttoning his shirt as even softer lips sucked on his neck, right under his ear. Those lips kissed and nipped lower as the shirt was slid off his shoulders. A tongue swirled around one of his nipples and he felt those hands begin to stroke him through his trousers. Kisses were trailed down his stomach, past his belly button, and even lower as hands unfastened and pulled down his trousers and boxers, exposing his rock hard cock to the cool air around it. Those sweet pink lips ever so slowly made their way down toward the one spot he wanted them to be. Beautiful lust-filled eyes they glanced up at him for only a moment before his prick was engulfed to the hilt by that succulent mouth -
"Mister Potter," said a deep, snarky voice, snapping Harry out of his reverie. "Please tell me, is there some reason you have not yet added the murtlap essence? Or would you rather not bore me yet another lame excuse for your lack of potion making skills?"
Harry's face turned bright red at Snape's brief attack at him, and even brighter red when he realized he had a very painful erection. He was very glad he was seated safely behind a table where no one could see the prominent bulge in his trousers.
"No, Sir," Harry said, looking Snape directly in the eye with a look of defiance on his face, "No lame excuse, I didn't think waiting a few extra seconds to add it would matter much."
"Five points from Gryffindor, and you will receive zero marks for today's assignment," said Professor Snape with a sneer.
Harry dropped his gaze from his Professor to the potion in front of him, and then gazed at a random spot on the wall, his mind still hazy with lingering thoughts of that daydream. Ron shared a troubled glance with Hermione before elbowing Harry to get his attention. "What were you staring at so hard that you forgot to add a simple ingredient to a simple potion?"
"No one, nothing," Harry answered quickly, snapping his gaze away from the object of his hidden desires. "I wasn't staring at anyone – err…thing. I just wasn't paying attention. Shut up, Ron," he said, as Ron began to laugh at his friend's nervous demeanour.
"You've got a crush on someone, don't you?" Ron said while nudging Harry in the ribs. "Who is she? C'mon, you can tell me, I'm your best mate! She's not in Slytherin, is she?" Ron's nose wrinkled with disgust.
"No one, Ron, I haven't got a crush on anyone, now shut it and leave me alone so I can clean up this stupid potion," Harry said angrily.
"Ok, fine," Ron said, still chuckling. "Clean up your potion then. Class is almost over, anyway…"
Harry began cleaning up the ruined potion, and started to stand up to put his remaining ingredients back in the supply closet, but quickly returned to his seat when he realized his erection was still pressing firmly and noticeably against the front of his trousers. "Oh, no!" Harry thought, "I am not going to get up and let everyone see me like this! Oh no, oh shite, oh FUCK, this is not good." Harry immediately began thinking of the most disturbing and unsexy things he could. "McGonagall skinny dipping in the lake on a hot summer day. Dumbledore ice skating naked." shudder "Snape." With that thought, Harry's erection was gone and he was able to continue cleaning up his potion.
After Potions class ended, Harry managed to sneak away from his friends by telling them he had a headache so he could have time to think before dinner. He ran upstairs to the room he shared with the other 6th year boys and quickly closed the door. He walked across the room and flung himself onto his bed. He allowed his mind to wander. He kept replaying over and over that glorious daydream he'd had during potions…and the events following it. Ron obviously suspected he had a crush on someone in their Potions class. "What's he talking about, a crush?" Harry thought. "I haven't even got a crush, what on Earth would make him think I do? He's slowly going mental...Oh well, I'll worry about him later" With that though, Harry allowed his mind to wander back to the daydream he started in Potions, and it wasn't long before his hand made its way into his pants and he began to stroke himself.
Harry went downstairs a while later to find an almost-empty common room. It was closer to dinnertime than he'd realized, so he set off at a jog toward the Great Hall. He burst through the doors and hurried over to join Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table just as the food appeared in front of them. They piled their plates with food and began to tuck in.
"How's your headache?" Hermione asked.
"Headache? Oh, err…yeah, it feels much better now, thanks," Harry replied, with a distracted air about him. "Much better." He began to engage the two in a heavy conversation about Quidditch in an attempt to convince them, and himself, that there was nothing out-of-the-ordinary on his mind. Not that there was…was there? No. Nothing at all. He thought.
After dinner, Harry and Ron sat at a table by the wall in the Gryffindor common room playing an intense game of Exploding Snap while Hermione sat nearby studying, irritated because she couldn't convince them to give up the game and do their homework. They were both doing a very sufficient job of ignoring her annoyed huffs directed towards them, as they were both engrossed in the game. Harry was trying hard to keep his concentration on his friends so they would stop with the questions. Not that he had anything to hide…
The next morning, Harry was awoken abruptly from a very nice dream by what felt like a baby elephant being dropped on top of him. He gasped for air as Ron rolled off of him and fell on the floor, laughing his arse off. "What in Merlin's name were you dreaming about, Harry??" Ron asked between body-racking bouts of laughter. "You were moaning in your sleep! Who the hell were you dreaming about, and do I even want to know what they were doing to you??"
Harry knew exactly what was being done to him in said dream (and he was quite enjoying it), but his mind fought to remember who was doing it to him. He vaguely remembered blonde hair, but that didn't really narrow it down that much, as there were many people with blonde hair attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry shrugged and started to crawl out of bed, only to realize that his pyjama bottoms were soaked. "Damn!! I must've been enjoying that dream more than I realized…" he thought, pulling the duvet back over himself. "I think I'll have a bit of a lie in this morning," he told Ron. "You go ahead and I'll meet up with you in the Great Hall later."
Ron snorted, "Suit yourself, but don't blame me if there's no bacon left for you!" With that, he bounded from the room, leaving Harry to himself.
"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!!" Harry thought, "Now not only do I have to take a shower, I'll probably miss breakfast too. Dammit!!"
Harry sneaked off to the showers in the hope that he didn't pass anyone on the way there. He was relieved when he stepped into the cool lavatory unseen. He was equally relieved to find the room completely empty, and he turned on the water in the nearest shower. He shed his sticky pyjamas and stepped under the warm torrent of water. Harry spent this alone-time pondering over who could possibly have been the one in his dream, but he was no closer to figuring it out when he finished his shower than when he began it.
Try as he might to finish his shower in time to make it to breakfast, the Great Hall was emptying when he arrived. Even though he was disappointed that he missed out on breakfast, he was determined not to let it show so his friends wouldn't become suspicious and start questioning why he'd really missed breakfast.