Thank you for all of your kind words! I love Snarry fans. You guys are so nice, and YOU ROCK! Please also note that I am not plagiarizing or ANYTHING like that. The plot is COMPLETELY different from the fic that inspired me to write this.


"What is this stuff?" asked Malfoy.

"Chili," Hermione answered. "It has beans and barbecue sauce and meat in it."

"What kind of meat?"

"I don't know, but it tastes good. Come on, Draco, just try a bowl."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at Hermione and took the bowl from her. "Granger, if this makes me sick, you will have to do one homework assignment of my choosing."

"And if you like it, you have to help tutor Ron in Charms."

"Fine," Malfoy took a bite, chewed a bit, and then swallowed. He paused, took another bite, and turned away. "Sod off, Granger."

"Next Tuesday is when Ron and I will start studying!" Hermione called to his retreating back.

The camping group snickered as they sat around the fire. It was dark now, and getting colder by the minute. Several students covered up with their sleeping bags as they ate their dinner. Parvati and Padma, both vegetarians, ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Light conversation was going on between the students.

Harry glanced at Snape. He was silently stirring his chili, taking a small bite, swallowing, then stirring some more. How he longed to be that spoon, to get the chance to have his professor's tongue sliding up and down his body, wrapping his lips around –

"Harry? Harry?" Ron asked, waving his hand in front of his face.

Harry nearly dropped his bowl. "Oh yes. Hello," he answered, completely unaware of where the conversation had turned to.

"We were just talking about where we wanted to hike tomorrow. Dean wants to go further into the forest, but Malfoy said that there is a section of the forest that has trees thicker than a car."

Harry shrugged, glancing at Snape again. "Whatever you want to do. You know I've been in the forest too many times to care," he responded absentmindedly, taking a bite of his chili.

"Right then, we go to the trees," Draco announced happily. "I think there is also water to swim there too."

Most of the students looked pleased. Harry continued moping, hearing snippets of the conversation taking place. Something about NEWTS, Pansy was applying to go to mediwitch training, Malfoy appeared to be thoroughly enjoying putting more wood in the fire. "But HOW does it work without magic?" he kept asking in genuine amazement. Justin recently won a Gobstones tournament, which nobody seemed to find interesting.

In the middle of Parvati telling the group about her new moon chart (which gave personalized horoscopes), Snape stood up. "Right. I am going to bed. I have placed a charm on each of your tents."

"What does the –" Ron started.

"It is personalized to the tent's occupants. If someone who is not assigned to that tent chooses to enter in the tent for longer than five minutes, that someone will be given acne twice as bad as Eloise Midgen's has ever been," Snape responded nastily.

"That's fucked up," Dean muttered. "That's not even enough time for a blow job."

The circle went silent, as Dean had said that a little too loudly. Snape looked directly into Dean's eyes. "Mr. Thomas, while I cannot help but wonder in what can only be describes as astonishment as to what girl in her right mind would give you a – hem – blow job, that would be the reason for the charm," Snape smirked at Dean, who turned scarlet as the girls began to giggle.

Harry shrugged. He didn't particularly care about his friends getting in a shag this weekend. This trip was not supposed to be about sex. Plus, the only person he wanted was already in his tent.

"Before I was interrupted –" Snape started again, glaring daggers at the muttering seventh years, "I was saying that while you do not have a curfew, you need to stay within 150 square meters of this fire. That means you cannot go past that tree and that tree," he pointed to the boundary. "Am I clear?"

"Yes," mumbled the group of campers resentfully.

"Good. Potter, try not to wake me up changing into your nightgown," Snape's eyes moved over to Harry's with a wicked grin.

It was Harry's turn to turn the color of a beet. He bit his lip as Snape turned around and did his near-patented swish of black robes as he walked away to the tent.

"Snape really seems to hate you, doesn't he, Harry?" Justin commented.

"Welcome to the past seven years of my life, Justin," Harry said dully.

Hermione patted Harry on the back sympathetically. "Just think, we have one more month and we are out of here, ready to start on our careers."

"Right."

Harry turned around and watched his professor unzip the tent, climb in, light a lantern, and slide into his sleeping bag. His stomach pounded with lust as it fully sunk in that he would be sleeping next to the literal man of his dreams. A fresh bout of fear hit him. Those dreams were extremely – well, rousing would be the best word for it. What if he had one of those dreams and -

"So," Ron started. "How about we play some Truth or Dare?" he grinned wickedly at Harry.

"No thank you," Harry croaked out. "I'm going to bed."

Hermione glanced at him. "Really?"

"Really," he responded and walked to the tent. It felt like he was walking to his funeral or at least, his death. Killing Voldemort wasn't even this hard. He took in a deep breath and unzipped the tent.

There he was, curled up in a navy blue sleeping bag. Harry eyed him up and down. The outline of his body was clear in the sleeping bag. Snape was tall and skinny. Sure, he already knew this, but seeing the gentle curves of his Potions professor made it so much more real. Harry drank in the calm face of Severus Snape, his nose sticking out of the sleeping bag, and lower, soft pink lips just slightly open.

Harry was mortified. There was no way he could lay down next to Snape and be able to sleep. He moved slowly to his own rolled up sleeping bag, and unraveled it. He slid out of his Muggle clothing and realized how warm it was. He had brought flannel pajamas, which was definitely not a good match for the climate.

A quick decision was made. He would sleep in his boxers. Snape would never know the difference. He would wake up before Harry and leave the tent to terrorize his classmates. Harry climbed into his sleeping bag and zipped it up carefully.

He was within a foot of Snape's face. He could reach out and touch that soft hair. He could practically taste his Potion Master's lips, which were mere inches away.

Harry then realized he was tenting his sleeping bag. Willing his erection to go away, he thought of Aunt Petunia stripping. There. He rolled over and quickly succumbed to sleep.


"Potter. Potter. POTTER!"

Harry snapped awake as he was rolled over rather harshly. It was light out already. Had he been sleeping that long? Suddenly, a wave of horror struck him. Had he been moaning in his sleep? He had dreamt of nothing but fantasies involving him and the other occupant of this tent for the past month.

"You're sitting on my wand," Snape said with a slight pout to his face.

Oh Merlin, that lower lip could do wonders to him. Snape looked positively scrumptious for having just woken up. Harry was swept away into a brief fantasy of Snape suckling at his nipple, slowly making his way down and –

"POTTER. My wand?"

Harry blushed and removed the wand from under his sleeping bag. He said up. "Sorry Professor," he said, handing it to him.

Their fingers briefly touched as the wand passed from Harry to Snape. Harry tried not to throw his head back into a moan. He ended up falling over on his pillow.

"How you managed to defeat the Dark Lord when you can't even sit up correctly baffles me time and time again," Snape said drily. "Oh, and wearing nothing but Snitch boxers makes you particularly fetching. I'm sure the ladies are lining up at your dormitory for a look at those," he added sarcastically, and walked out of the tent.

Mortified, Harry slid back into his sleeping bag and wished he never had to come out of it. Two more nights, Harry thought to himself. Two more nights.

END OF CHAPTER 2