Snape had at last done something. He had used his free hand to slap Harry on the arse, rather strongly. As that was not part of their usual routine –if you could call it routine, with all the hindrances Snape put up every time – Harry tried to turn around and protest, but the hand held him in place, the fingers caressing the spot which they had just turned a flaming red, Harry was sure of it.

"What was that for?", he asked and couldn't prevent his voice from sounding hurt. He was. He had never been beaten. The Dursleys had treated him bad, Voldemort had done unmentionable things, but beaten he had never been. And then again – he could feel his interest renew itself, against his mental uproar. That was – interesting.

The silky voice came – at last. "I was under the impression that you wanted me to do something, Potter". It made Harry shiver and squirm, the way the voice found its way through the whole of his body, adding to the feeling of the fingers that were still in him, and the hand that was stroking his arse and his prick hardening against the robed stone floor. It was – too much. He ground out a noise of frustration.

"And I decided that you could use a little – lecture in patience after you so nicely reminded me of my profession. I am your teacher after all, Mr. Potter, thank you very much for mentioning it." "Don't mention it", Harry wriggled and wanted to die. He was so dead, he was such an idiot, Snape was right to punish him. How could he do that? He knew that Snape had some misgivings about their relationship beyond the classroom. Very bloody brilliant to remind him of it, when all he wanted from him, really, was screw him through the floor. Now!

Another slap to his arse. Harry moaned again. It hurt nicely. It reminded him of something. Oh yeah, he knew. It reminded him of what he was so eager for Snape to do. Red heat, a little pain, and a growing warmth that needed to be fulfilled, filled, handled, anything. It seemed, Snape had inadvertently found another dark spot on the hero of the light.

Well, inadvertently? Perhaps Snape had been knowing all along? If he thought he knew the man, Harry was sure that Snape knew him even better. He knew that Harry liked to be humiliated by his voice. Liked it? So that. He loved it, and especially his prick. And said bodily part did react as much to the slapping. The man was a insufferable know it all and Harry hated him with all his heart. Would luckily hate him again, if only he did what he was dying to be done to.

"Oh I won't", said the Potions master in that dreamy voice. "It seems I have found a way to make you obey, at last". Another slap, and Harry cried out loud and tried to wriggle into the punishing hand and at the same time ground into the floor. It was impossible, it was torture, it was heavenly hell. "Pity I can't use that in the classroom. Would have made my life so much easier from the beginning. But I fear Albus would object". Another slap. Harry was squirming hopelessly. The man was a prick, no wait, he was a sadist, well, whatever, how could he be so calm and cool? Harry had never been one to be too certain of his looks, or his appeal, but in the past Snape had rather fallen for him. Every time. How could he stay away from him so long, with even his fingers playing him? All of them?

"Please", he moaned. He had no breath for more, no breath, no pride, no anything. Only an arse that was waiting to be filled, beaten, anything, and a cock that was dribbling already, weeping in despair.

Another hard slap, followed by the fingers soothing the spot. Harry felt tears coming to his eyes, from frustration, he thought, but a little from the shock and the feeling of humiliation. Yes, he could understand Snape –the man had wanted to do him in from their first class. Now he had found a way. Finally, in seventh year.

And Harry liked it, oh he liked it, he loved it, really, but please ... Please, now. He sobbed with a mixture of relief and anxiety, when the fingers retreated from his inside. His feelings roared when the fingers were replaced by something else. "Good, Mr. Potter", the infuriating and much too calm voice said, while the man pushed into his waiting weeping hole. "I am satisfied with your obedience for once."

Harry still felt humiliated, but what was that against the other feelings that flooded him? Feelings that came and went like the tides, rolling and rolling and rolling up into just one emotion, one very strong, overwhelming, while he was thrashed into the ground with meticulous care. He could just see Snape, in his mind's eye, mouth set in determination, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes coal-black, aimed at his backside, hands holding him, tight, so tight, and cock driving into and out of him, stroking his prostate with every push.

Harry yelled, when one hand slapped his arse again, and he was nearly there, oh so very close, and then another hand grabbed him and squeezed and the next push did it. He screamed himself hoarse and was nearly blinded by the uproar of feelings. "Good boy". Snape had held completely still during Harry's orgasm, but now he started in earnest, without restraint, and Harry shivered in sympathy, if not in renewed arousal, when the other man slammed into him and grunted like someone possessed.

It didn't take long.

Harry smiled beatifically and nuzzled the other man's neck, damp hair clinging to it, with his nose. Snape was breathing loudly. Harry fondled the spent organ of his teacher and slapped his thigh. Hard.

Snape nearly jumped, it was very satisfying. "What on earth was that for?", he asked, voice still not as it used to be. Harry smiled again, like a beautiful and innocent child. "For teaching me, Professor. Thank you very much indeed."

Snape stared at him for a long while, then sighed. "You're welcome Mr. Potter, you know you are." "Yes", said Harry with delight, "but it is so much more gratifying to feel it." Snape stared again and sighed again, then put out his arm. "Come here, you insufferable brat. I know you like to cuddle, and don't take pains to deny it. And I am just now in the mood to reward you for your learning skills."

"Okidoki", said Harry and set himself to rest in the arms of Severus Snape, teacher and lover extraordinaire.