Three days. It had been three days since that night. Harry had analyzed every single detail of the time he had spent with the man who was now ignoring him. Today was the first day he had potions, the first time he would be forced to spend two hours with his professor.
Harry was laying on his bed watching the first rays of sun stream in though the dorm windows. Sighing as he ran his hand over his stomach. Noting that his ribs were a bit more visible than they were a week ago. It felt like Snape had been playing with him, he had kept his promise not to speak a word of their encounter. Maybe Snape was testing him, trying to drive him mad. Maybe he was waiting to see how long it would take before Harry spoke of that night. No, he wouldn't speak of it. He would not let Snape win and most of all he wouldn't give Snape any reason to not play with him again. He wanted nothing more than to feel the Potion's master's firm hands upon him once more.
Harry carried on like a good little boy, attending his classes and keeping up with all of his homework. And not speaking a whisper of the potions masters' firm grip or the feel of his massive length sliding in and out of him. Shaking himself Harry tried to regather his thoughts. This was becoming an issue, every single day he would end up thinking about the feel of the rope wrapped around his body, being suspended over his Professor's bed. He would zone out in the middle of conversations, his pants would grow tight and chills would run through his body. He was getting more and more desperate by the day.
He went from being desperate to relieve himself, to being conflicted with emotions. He didn't know what to think half of the time. He wanted Snape to care about him, he wanted him to need him as Harry did. Then again he thought the Professor simply used him for a good shag after a bad night. But the way Snape had looked at him made him think that just maybe he cared, that just maybe he actually enjoyed Harry's company. Growling Harry flung open the curtains and got out of bed.
Splashing his face with cold water he tried unsuccessfully to clear his thoughts. If Snape didn't need him then he would not let himself go on like this. He didn't want him either. It was just a one off. Nothing more, nothing less.
However as Harry was walking down the steps to breakfast he knew he was lying to himself. That little annoying voice in the back of his mind kept whispering "You want him, you need him" But he was refusing to acknowledge it. He wanted to enjoy his breakfast without thoughts of the Potion's Master invading his mind.
Making it most the way through his porridge before his eyes drifted to the head table felt like somewhat of an accomplishment. His willpower had lasted longer than any other day that week. Snape was gazing over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy was making a show of himself. Idiot Harry thought turning away. He felt a bit of jealousy at the way Snape was looking upon his enemy. Ha enemy, not so long ago Snape had been considered his enemy. Now the only rise the man conjured within him was firmly located in his trousers.
It was beginning to drive Harry mad! He was so frustrated, and guh! Every other emotion known to man, all at the same time! He couldn't determine what he was feeling most of the time. He felt like a big ball of wibbly wobbly emotion-y …stuff! And he couldn't make sense of the lot!
Rubbing his face Harry resolved, potions was going to be hell.
Peering at the Potion's Master through lowered eyes Harry was beginning to get desperate. Snape hadn't even spared him a glace, a scathing remark, nothing! Harry felt invisible! Why won't he look at me! Harry narrowed his eyes…grinning.
The look Hermione was giving him was enough to make him certain that his soul had been damned to hell. Her hair was pink. The classroom covered in goo. They were making a simple spots potion. The simplest of medical potions available. Calling for only four ingredients and taking a whole 34 minutes to prepare, Neville had even managed to not muck it up.
Snape was looking down at his desk as the pink goo dripped off of his hair. He was debating whether or not to murder the brat, or give him what he so obviously wanted. The boy was practically begging for a spanking! Taking a deep breath and gathering himself, he decided the best punishment would be a bit more torture. You see, Snape wanted Harry just as badly as Harry so pitifully wanted him. He was simply playing with the boy, and he was making him prove himself. Prove himself worthy of his Masterful touch. Thankfully Snape was a master of disguise and simple glamour charms were nothing to cast…and keep up for hours at a time. The hours bit was getting old, Snape wasn't used to his pants being snug for such long periods.
He flicked his wand, the goo disappeared…all but the bit covering Miss Granger. Snape smirked to himself. "Miss Granger, 15 points from Gryffindor. Now all of you get out of my sight!" Hermione looked furious. How dare he!
"Harry James Potter! How dare you!" Hermione whispered in the most furious voice as they filed out of the classroom. "I'm sorry, how was I to know he'd blame you?" Harry shot back, more frustrated than ever. He had tried everything, if blowing up a potion wasn't enough to even get points taken off, he would never get the man's attention. I'm doomed, Harry thought. "That's not the point! Why did you drop the extra bean in your cauldron? I've seen you make the potion before, you know how! Even Neville didn't mess up!" Hermione was still dripping pink slime "I've got to agree with her Harry" Neville said from behind them "Sorry Neville" Hermione said, looking a bit embarrassed. "It's fine. Really, Hermione." Neville replied with a smile. "Thanks Neville" Hermione said with a tiny smile.
Hermione's wrath was distracted by Neville now, thankfully. Harry was steaming. How could that not have gotten even the slightest acknowledgement of his existence?! Snape was trying to drive him mad. He knew it! There was no other reason why that cruel bastard wouldn't even give him detention with filch! Slipping into the boy's toilet, Harry looked at himself in the cracked mirror. Gazing into his eyes, he shook his head. What am I doing? He thought. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't followed, and making sure the room was empty he locked himself in a cubical. "Muffliato" He whispered as he pulled his robes aside.
Running his hand across his firm cock through his pants he sighed. God how that felt good. Unzipping his fly, he released his red, swollen cock. He had been so hard for extended periods of time over the past few days his cock was sore. The pain in his cock mixed with the pleasure of his hand stroking his length only made him think of Snape more. Letting his head fall back as his pace quickened, visions of the Potion's Master floating behind his eye lids. He was moaning now, his Professor's name slipping through his lips the closer he got. The faster his hand moved, the more the name was spoken. He was oblivious to the world as his orgasm ripped through him. "Fucking Snape" Harry said as he let go of his spent cock. Opening his eyes he froze. There, standing in the doorway of the stall, leaning casually against the frame stood Professor Snape. A smirk firmly planted on his face, Snape said "Perhaps a locking charm Potter? I trust Colloportus is in your vocabulary?" Turning on his heel and striding away. The look on the boy's face was priceless!
Harry stood there stunned. "Bastard" He said tucking himself back into his pants "10 points from Gryffindor for foul language" Shape shot back as he strode away.
Snape was striding down the corridor, his robes billowing more than usual. He felt very successful. The look on the boy's face was worth the tightness in his trousers that he felt sure wouldn't be going away anytime soon.