The evening came quicker than expected. It seemed as though he'd lifted his head up from that shaky hand, had gone through a quick few minutes of his other courses, eaten dinner, and returned to Snape's classroom in a matter of an hour. He wasn't doing any better, either. He was much paler than what he normally was, his hands were sweating, and his hair hadn't been brushed all day. He was a wreck, he had to admit.

He knocked gently on the Professor's door, hoping idly that he had forgotten or perhaps wouldn't hear it. But none of that happened; the door opened quite quickly instead, and Snape stood there looking as if he'd gone completely nutters.

The hair that he had was pulled back in a short ponytail, something that Draco hadn't seen in the history of his life at Hogwarts, and the man was dressed in a pair of casual black slacks and a matching long-sleeved satin shirt. The pale boy cringed, and his eyes darted toward the floor. He preferred the greasy, terribly menacing version of the man.

"Come in, Mr. Malfoy. I'm glad that you're on time."

"For a detention that was pointless and unfair." Draco hadn't looked up, and his voice was bitter. This was all Snape's fault. He hated his life at the moment, and with the way the Professor looked, he was sure he'd be wishing it to end soon enough.

Snape's eyes flashed at his comment, and before Draco knew what was happening, Snape snatched his upper arm and began to drag him inside. The door was shut behind them as they proceeded all the way to the front of the classroom. Draco's eyes were closed again; his heart felt ready to burst out of his chest.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, leering at him. He'd finally let go of his arm when they reached his desk. Draco looked up at him, forcing himself not to act scared. He didn't know what that would do if the Professor noticed his fear.

"I interrupted your work without cause," he replied softly.

"Good boy," Snape drawled. Something in the way he said it made Draco shiver. "And might you tell me why you feigned sickness in the first place? Were you having trouble on your essay?"

"No, Professor. I was..." Growing uncomfortable with your bloody eyes checking me out the entire time. "... getting a bit dizzy, but it passed."

"I highly doubt that excuse is true, but it'll do for now. Your punishment is in order. I want you to correct all of the students' work for me." Snape motioned to a large pile of parchment sitting on his desk, and Draco snuck a glance behind him to look at it. It was almost two feet tall. "You won't be leaving until it's done." Snape gave a pleased sneer, something that probably only himself was capable of.

Draco turned back to him, looking sullen. "But how do I know what's correct or not?"

"I trust that you'll know what's right and wrong, Mr. Malfoy. You received top marks."

"Why?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Why?" Snape appeared confused for that short moment. "Why not? You wrote everything perfectly."

"Granger probably got a better score than me. You could've had her do this instead of me." Draco was looking up at Snape with a stubborn expression, momentarily lost in finding out why he always got perfect scores in this class.

"Granger is an insufferable know-it-all," Snape scoffed irritably.

"So am I!" Draco said hotly.

"You are far from one."

"Am not." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. He was glaring by this point, surprised at how they seemed to be having an argument that would happen between two students.

"Are you saying that I'm wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well..." The Professor's glare seemed to make his own weaken. "... I... no." Draco's arms uncrossed and fell at his sides. His broken gaze fell with them. "I'm not an insufferable know-it-all."

"Good boy again, Draco." Snape smirked. In a sudden swift movement, the man had leant forward, his hands planting on the front of his desk. Draco found himself trapped in the middle, where there was no space at all. His eyes darted forward, staring nervously into Snape's own, dark pair. He backed up just barely before feeling his backside hit the desk.

"P-professor, I'm feeling a bit uneasy with you this close," Draco whispered faintly.

Snape seemed to ignore him. "Tell me, Draco, did you move your hand on purpose, or were you really that fortunate?" Eyes ran over the length of Draco's body in a very noticeable manner before returning to wait for an answer.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Draco said. He felt like screaming for help, but nothing loud enough was coming out. He was only closer to suffocating in the short distance between them both. He very much wished that his terror would make him fall unconscious right about now. He knew that he should've taken his notice of Snape's attraction toward him more seriously; Snape was making moves on him now.

"Yes, you do."

Draco drew in a long, calming breath, but it didn't help.

"What's wrong?"

"I said that I... I don't like you this close." Draco bit his lip, moving back another inch. He succeeded in lifting himself onto the edge of the desk. He could hear the paper rustling behind him, and could see that Snape was only moving closer.

"I see." Snape frowned. "Answer my question."

Draco stayed silent, not wanting to. This was starting to make him panic; he'd never been in a situation like this before. How was he supposed to act?

"I moved it on purpose," he muttered.

"On purpose? Why was that?"

"I didn't want you touching me."

"Didn't?"

For a moment, Draco didn't know what Snape meant, but when he felt a larger hand move over his own, he instantly understood. He'd said it as if he hadn't wanted him touching him before, unlike now. But he didn't want it now either, and Snape didn't understand that. Draco swallowed heavily.

"I'm your student... you can't do this..." Draco breathed.

"Yes, but I am," Snape replied, eyes glittering dangerously. "You don't know how long I've wanted to. You just sit there, oblivious to the ways I try and show you, and it makes you so unbelievably cute." Snape's lips twitched upward to form another small smile, like the one in class.

Draco's throat seemed to close up then; he held his breath as he half stood, half sat there... frozen.

"Ever since you were in my second year class, really... and it's been nearly, what? Four years?" Snape stared at Draco, who's frozen state was slowly melting away to shivering. He didn't answer, but instead used his hands to pull himself further back on the desk, despite the hand over his own.

"You don't know how gorgeous you are, Draco," Snape continued, his voice suddenly gentle. It was very close to sounding menacing, however, and it made Draco draw in another sharp breath as he pushed himself backward.

"Don't move away from me. It isn't smart. You'll fall right off the desk." Snape's smile disappeared. He leaned forward a bit more to use his other hand to grab Draco's free arm. He pulled the boy quickly forward, unexpectedly. Draco fell against the man's chest, gasping as if he were winded.

"Professor... I...I.. can't... breathe," Draco whimpered.

"Of course you can. You're just a little scared, aren't you?" When Draco tried pulling away, Snape kept his grip on Draco's wrists and held him in front of him. It wasn't a painful grasp at all, but he could see that Draco was panicked and maybe ready to cry.

"I want you to let go of me," Draco pleaded. "I'll do the papers for you. And I'm sorry... that this can't work. You're an adult... and I don't l-like you like that." Draco bit his lip again, which only seemed to make him more tempting to fondle with, in Snape's opinion.

"It won't hurt," Snape said softly.

Draco's eyes widened, and before he was able to give a tug of escape, he was pushed gently backward. He felt himself being lifted and his back being pressed against the desk, and it was all done effortlessly, as if there was nothing he could do to stop the man. "Wait! Wait, don't!" Draco was starting to writhe around frantically, trying to get the man's hands off of him. "I want children!"

Snape chuckled. Draco wasn't sure it he was amused or irritated. "With me?"

"No, no, no..." Draco shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Don't worry then. Your chances of having children will remain the same."

"Just don't touch me, please?" Draco asked silently.

"I apologize, Draco, but I can't do that." Snape smirked down on him, which the boy couldn't even see but didn't really care to.

In the next moment, large hands made contact with pale skin and Draco gave a small jump. "Oh god... get off of me!" Snape's hands had moved beneath Draco's shirt, caressing the skin there. "Stop! Stop! My mother will hear of this!" Draco implored this with his voice shaking.

There was a sudden sound behind them, like a knock on the door. It made the Professor pull away abruptly and turn around, his hold on Draco withdrawing. Draco was much too stunned to do anything himself; he stayed lying on the desk, his shirt halfway up and his stare positioned toward the ceiling.

"Professor Snape...?" A voice called. The door peeked open slightly, and a head of dark hair snuck through.

"What is it?" Snape snapped. "Close the door!" The man turned back toward Draco in a split second, yanking him up and off the desk by one arm. He began to straighten Draco's robes out, even as the boy gripped the edge of the desk tightly behind him. His eyes were wide.

"Should I... come back tomorrow?"

A startled Snape whipped back around to see a confused Harry Potter standing with a piece of parchment in one hand. His expression was thoughtful and slightly taken aback by what he was seeing. "I can, really, if you want me to." Harry took a step back. He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place.

"I thought I told you to close the door, Potter!" Snape demanded.

"I did," he replied shortly. And he had. He had closed the door behind him.

"Leave! Now! Or points will be taken for your inability to follow directions properly!"

Harry didn't argue. It was unfair, but when was Snape fair? And he honestly didn't want to stay and find out what had been going on here. His gaze fell onto Draco for a moment, taking in the boy's ruffled appearance; the Slytherin was holding a hand over his mouth and his eyes were closed.

Then, Harry was out the door. And as he walked down the hallway back toward the Gryffindor common room, he wondered why in the bloody hell Snape was dressed like that.