Parts Will Form A Whole
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
5,129
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
5,129
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Voice
Voice
Snape was snarling at me again, for what I couldn’t be bothered to recall. We had been working in threes, Hermione, Ron, and I, on some potion that I’d never heard of, never mind recalled reading about. Ron had been chopping some plant, I was slicing something I couldn’t even begin to identify and Hermione had been mixing it all together at the right time. The potion had just turned a strange shade of opaque teal when that… man had decided it was time to take points.
“…incompetence astounds me yet again Mister Potter. Is it so difficult a task for the golden boy of the wizerding world to properly slice tongue of newt or is…”
I tuned out again, digging my fingers into the table, and absurdly grateful that the student robes fell forward as they did. It wouldn’t do to have anyone know what he did to me, what that voice did… gods, I couldn’t even think about it. I locked my eyes with his and all I saw was smugness. I couldn’t tell if he knew but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. My trousers were decidedly tight and I wondered if that dull feeling around my jaw was because I’d been clenching it too hard.
I felt Hermione’s hand at my elbow but I didn’t look to her, in fact, my defiant stare intensified at the contact even as that blasted man uttered something about the squashed remnants of my diced herbs and snail shell. I couldn’t make out the words, haven’t been able to for quite some time in favor of holding back that incense rush of heat and need. I can’t understand how he does that, smirking just enough to rouse my anger and yet still manage to keep up a litany of insults in that deliciously black voice of his. I wanted to drown in it, to let it consume me entirely and then burn me away in dark heat.
Then I could feel Ron’s hand and I get the impression they think I’m angry. They think I’m pissed off and going to do something stupid. I probably was if he kept talking.
And that chocolate sound wasn’t letting up but moving on to Ron’s horrid mangling of his ingredients and Hermione’s ridiculous brewing tactics despite the fact that the potion had been perfectly made. It didn’t make any difference who that voice was directed at so long as it kept going. I was trembling, I knew, and Ron’s fingers dug into my elbow as I fiercely controlled my impending orgasm. I couldn’t. I’d be suicide. And something else for Snape to snarl about. Gods that voice.
My whole body seized up and I stood impossibly straight, my unblinking stare fixed on that imposing man. He paused in his litany to slide his black gaze to mine. That lip curled away and that bloody eyebrow rose and that blessedly wonderful voice finally got to the point. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter”
I came.
--
AN: This is a possible WIP if people want to see more.
Snape was snarling at me again, for what I couldn’t be bothered to recall. We had been working in threes, Hermione, Ron, and I, on some potion that I’d never heard of, never mind recalled reading about. Ron had been chopping some plant, I was slicing something I couldn’t even begin to identify and Hermione had been mixing it all together at the right time. The potion had just turned a strange shade of opaque teal when that… man had decided it was time to take points.
“…incompetence astounds me yet again Mister Potter. Is it so difficult a task for the golden boy of the wizerding world to properly slice tongue of newt or is…”
I tuned out again, digging my fingers into the table, and absurdly grateful that the student robes fell forward as they did. It wouldn’t do to have anyone know what he did to me, what that voice did… gods, I couldn’t even think about it. I locked my eyes with his and all I saw was smugness. I couldn’t tell if he knew but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. My trousers were decidedly tight and I wondered if that dull feeling around my jaw was because I’d been clenching it too hard.
I felt Hermione’s hand at my elbow but I didn’t look to her, in fact, my defiant stare intensified at the contact even as that blasted man uttered something about the squashed remnants of my diced herbs and snail shell. I couldn’t make out the words, haven’t been able to for quite some time in favor of holding back that incense rush of heat and need. I can’t understand how he does that, smirking just enough to rouse my anger and yet still manage to keep up a litany of insults in that deliciously black voice of his. I wanted to drown in it, to let it consume me entirely and then burn me away in dark heat.
Then I could feel Ron’s hand and I get the impression they think I’m angry. They think I’m pissed off and going to do something stupid. I probably was if he kept talking.
And that chocolate sound wasn’t letting up but moving on to Ron’s horrid mangling of his ingredients and Hermione’s ridiculous brewing tactics despite the fact that the potion had been perfectly made. It didn’t make any difference who that voice was directed at so long as it kept going. I was trembling, I knew, and Ron’s fingers dug into my elbow as I fiercely controlled my impending orgasm. I couldn’t. I’d be suicide. And something else for Snape to snarl about. Gods that voice.
My whole body seized up and I stood impossibly straight, my unblinking stare fixed on that imposing man. He paused in his litany to slide his black gaze to mine. That lip curled away and that bloody eyebrow rose and that blessedly wonderful voice finally got to the point. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter”
I came.
--
AN: This is a possible WIP if people want to see more.