Severus Snape had been spitting furious and just a little bit scared when Black had dragged him into the showers. He was still riled about Potter's Lily of the Valley scented shampoo and especially, especially, being scrubbed on the head and laughed at like some sort of ridiculous house pet. The shampoo had run in his eyes stinging and blinding him, the bubbles were still crackling in his ears, and all he could smell was the overpowering stench of Lily of the Valley, and then –

Snape felt a light tickle down his side, and most of the laughter suddenly hushed. All he could hear was Potter pissing himself laughing, and water pouring from the showers, nothing else.

What the fuck was going on?

The tickle returned. Snape felt a tingle go up his spine. It scared him, yet it also felt rather…nice.

Potter's laugh died away, he yelled his friend's name, and Snape felt something touch him on the lips. Bloody Hell…was that a tongue…? He squinted through the pouring water and saw a face close to his.

And then with a sudden lunge Black took his bottom lip in his teeth. Snape could feel Black's breath on his cheek, hear his shudders of desire, feel his warm hands slide over his wet body.

As Black pressed his body against his, the Slytherin felt hot fire lick at his insides, and also a kind of terrible, twisted satisfaction that Potter's best friend was kissing him, and that Potter was jealous. The showers roared.

If only someone would unpetrify him…!


James was too shocked to speak – all he could do was gawp like a fish, and…well…gawp like a fish. He took a step back and felt someone gently stroke the back of his head. James jolted with horror and span round.

"What the…!"

The boy smiled bashfully up at him. "Do you know how many years I've wanted to touch your hair? To see how spiky it is?" he giggled like a schoolgirl with her first crush. "And now I have – Tee hee!"

"Spiky? It's wet at the moment, Wormtail – it's plastered flat to my skull!" Snapped James.

Peter giggled mischievously, his little eyes agleam. "So what? Wet and wild's even better…"

James stared aghast at his little friend and felt a sudden inexplicable flame of desire. Dear Merlin…did he just get aroused by Wormtail's laugh?

And then…with a certain thrill of dread and excitement he felt Peter's eyes travelling down his naked body, and pausing halfway…


While Goyle and Black were quite happy with wet passionate kissing in the showers, Wilkes was busy beating his broomstick, and a heavily panting Beezley was just one thrust away from deflowering a very red-legged Yaxley over one of the changing room benches.

"Mmmmm…hmm…"

"Ah..!"

"oh…!"

"Oh yes…oh yes…!"

"OH YES!"

"WHAT…IN THE SACRED NAME OF SALAZAR!"

Slytherin's Quidditch captain, Maximus Montgomery-Threepgood – a tall, blue eyed, aristocratic teenager who never showered in the changing rooms because he was petrified of getting a verucca - stood frozen in the doorway, a fluffy white towel round his neck and a look of pure horror on his face. His eyes scanned the scene once again. Black was with…was with… Maximus felt himself gag. This had to be the work of a potion or charm!

He charged into the room and pushed Beezley to the floor, stupefying him. Yaxley gave a needy moan.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded.

Yaxley moaned and rolled over, breathing huskily. "Oh, my savior, oh. Finish me off, Max, please Maximus, you're so posh and unbelievably sexy! Please…."

Montgomery-Threepgood turned to the boy in the corner and barked at him. "Wilkes, stop polishing your broomstick and get yourself over here - immediately!"

Wilkes didn't even twitch a muscle; apart from the one he was holding, of course.

"Goyle! BLACK!"

Montgomery-Threepgood snarled in frustration when everyone continued to ignore him. This had to be the work of the Gryffindors. It had their foolish audacity written all over it.

In desperation, he jumped up onto one of the benches and raised his voice in a bid to get over all the passionate moans, grunts and wet smacking noises.

"Now listen up, team!" He bellowed. "I think it's a jolly good chance you have all been rumbled by a fiendish plot in revenge for us winning; a love potion most likely – and I'll bet ten Galleons those darn rotten Gryffindors have a hand in it!"

The moaning and smacking stopped and five heads snapped round.

"The Gryffindors?" growled Beezley, a hint of interest in his voice.

"Precisely! Exactly!" exclaimed the Quidditch team Captain, jumping down from the bench and storming to the door. "And do you know what, I'm in a bloody good mind to go right over there now and give those scoundrels a jolly good piece of my wand!"

Merely ten seconds later, and rather dizzy from being squashed against the wall by five sex-mad teammates, Maxiumus Montgomery-Threepgood desperately chased after his team, bitterly regretting his unfortunate choice of words.


Several flashes of fast-moving white near the castle caught a certain half-giant's attention. He turned and squinted from where he was standing on his vegetable patch, raising his bushy eyebrows as he finally realised that they were actually totally naked students, one jumping and whooping madly and whirling a green and silver striped towel over his head.

"Streakin' after a match? Bloomin' outrageous if yer ask me, wha's the school comin' to, I don' know…" he grumbled to himself, pulling up one of his prize turnips.


Kissing Wormtail, as Sirius had always joked when he'd been out of earshot, would probably be about as sexually arousing as kissing a farting beaver's backside. James had agreed. (He'd never kissed beaver's arse before, of course, just a black dog's accidentally at a party once, and that had been embarrassing)

And how right Sirius was, thought James dryly. Peter had the most horrible pizza breath, which was probably enough to knock a blast-ended skrewt out. And then there was that scratty patch of whiskerish bumfluff…

James rubbed his itchy top lip in irritation. This was why after only thirty seconds of kissing, he had set the boy to work on his trouser area. And even there the boy wasn't managing much, his grip was useless.

No bloody wonder Wormtail was crap at riding broomsticks.

Just as he was contemplating Wormtail having a go with his mouth instead, there was a sudden patter and mad scramble of feet. James glanced round to see a crowd of naked, wet, flushed and panting Slytherins watching hungrily from the doorway. Wormtail gave an excited girly squeal and ran back into the shower as a crooning Wilkes advanced on him, loofah in hand.

Graham Silvers cocked his eyebrow as the Slytherin Chaser's eyes darted his way and locked on. Graham took in the leanness of the teenage boy, his angular shoulders, his more than ample trouser area... "You can catch my Snitch any time, Yaxley," he purred.

Beesley lost no time in prowling toward James Potter, muscles rippling, wet towel held at the ready, his voice dropping to a seductive growl. "What do you use on your hair to make it so sexy, you four-eyed bastard?"

James smirked sweetly, his eyes roving. "Why, do you want a piece of me Beesley?"

A hungry grin spread across the kinky Slytherin's lips. "You could say that…But…before I do, have I ever told you, Potter, how your hair is as darkly sensual as a midnight broom ride, how your lips…"


XD
Hi everyone - I think there's going to be about 2 more chapters of this fic. Please review - or just say hi -it lets me know all you cool ppl are out there! Thanks so much!