I Don\'t Think So

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Thanx to all who reviewed. Remember how I said sex would abound in chapter 3. Well, I lied. So sue me. Next chapter without a shadow of a doubt. If I\'m lying you can string me up.
There is still slash in the story, that hasn\'t changed. And hot boys wearing eyeliner.

Disclaimer: Nobody\'s mine except for Severus Snape. They all belong to JK Rowling and whoever she has given the rights to. *Takes Snape to bed before anyone notices.*

Thanx to Mega B, Serenitas and Faerie of Mischief.
I think I\'ll dedicate the hot boys in eyeliner to Serenitas. It was, after all, her idea.
Faerie, I don\'t think there\'s any room for electrical tape in this story. Sorry.

Please read, enjoy and review. Thanx...


Chapter three

Snape walked into the Great Hall. And very nearly turned around and walked straight back out again. The Great Hall had been deted.ted. Pink was the first word that came to mind. As he looked around him, Snape mentally berated himself for only being able to come up with that one adjective. Nauseatingly pink. That would have to do. His eyes hurt.
Bowls of colourful fruit punch were placed at intervals along a buffet table at the side of the room. He doubted that there was any alcohol in any of them at the moment but dropped a few drops of alcohol nullifying potion into each one. That would counteract any form of alcohol that may be surreptitiously added.
The lack of alcohol didn’t bother Snape. The drink he would be drinking would look the same as the fruit punches but have the alcohol content and taste of his favourite very old Scotch. Surely Albus didn’t mean for him to survive the evening sober.
“I’m glad you decided to dress up for the occasion Severus.”
Snape turned to see Professor McGonagall walking towards him. Her robes were crimson. He grimaced. She looked fine but clashed horribly with the decorations. At least his basic black went with all decors. He decided not to rise to her sarcasm.
She poured herself a glass of punch. “Ah, ensuring that no alcohol enters the bloodstreams of our students. Very commendable.” As soon as the glass was set down on the table it was whisked away by an unobtrusive house elf, cleaned and replaced. “I trust that you have a little something put aside for relief.”
The briefest of smiles. “Of course. I expect by the end of the evening for all this to be a…” He shuddered, “… pink blur.”
McGonagall smiled. “And no date I see. I thought Remus would…”
Snape’s glare froze the rest of her words. She wisely decided to leave the teasing for now. Maybe after a couple of drinks.

“How much more of that stuff are you going to pile on my face?” Hermione’s patience was running thin.
Parvati patted her shoulder soothingly. “Not much now. Just some powder, then we’ll put some mascara and eyeliner on your eyes. They really are a beautiful colour, you know. Like chocolate.” She straightened to survey her handiwork. “I wish you’d let me use this darker lipstick and a bit more blush. This is a party, after all.”
“No. I’ll look like some sort of harlot. This will be quite enough. This and that dress Lavender lent me.”
“That dress, as you put it, is beautiful. It fits you like a dream.”
Hermione permitted herself a moment of vanity. The dress in question did fit her well. It was just the style that was a bit troubling. Made of a sheer brilliant blue silk, it was backless and had a thigh high split up one side. She just hoped that, with her stiletto heels on, she’d have the height to carry off the dress. At least it wasn’t cut low in front as well. She didn’t need to worry about that.

“Well, look at you.” Harry shrugged the invisibility cloak from his person and faced Draco. The room of requirement had become a very useful meeting place for the both of them.
Draco smirked, he knew he looked good... the mirror had told him, repeatedly. The black dragon hide trousers were supple and accentuated his slim hips and legs as he moved. His torso was shown off to best advantage by a black string singlet. As always, black showed off his angelic beauty to perfection, especially since he’d stopped gelling his hair and let it grow longer.
Harry moved closer, raising his hand to push the fringe from his lover’s eyes, which he’d rimmed with black eyeliner. How did someone who looked that angelic manage to be so wanton? “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
Draco responded avidly to the kiss Harry initiated. “Mmmmm, you don’t deserve me.”
“That may be so, but I want you.” Harry’s hands slid down Draco’s chest, over the ribs and seemed intent on unfastening the laces that were holding the low slung trousers closed.
The blonde stepped away from those hands. “No love. It took way too long to get these trousers on. Once they come off, they’ll not be going on again.” He looked Harry up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Harry looked at himself in the mirror that Draco had reluctantly moved away from. At first he’d seen nothing wrong with his blue jeans and green silk shirt – a gift from Draco that the other boy had said matched his eyes. But upon seeing Draco’s ‘come-hither’ outfit, he’d revised his opinion.
“You look very nice dear.” The mirror sounded approving, rather like Mrs Weasley.
That clinched it. Harry was fed up with looking nice. He wanted a similar look to Draco’s. Wanton, wicked, debauched and downright sexy. If he was going to ‘come out’ to the whole school, he was going to do it in style. “What do you suggest?”
Those changeable grey eyes roamed over his body as Harry shifted uncomfortably, aware of a growing arousal. “All off, except this.” Draco indicated the diamond eyed platinum dragon hanging from a chain around Harry’s neck, his Valentines gift. “We should be able to find something suitably… well, suitable in here. After all this is the Room of Requirement.” He opened the wardrobe in the corner and smiled wickedly. “Oh yes. Perfect.”
Harry was suddenly apprehensive.

Snape watched The Great Hall fill up with giggling girls and swaggering boys, coy girls and shy boys. Oh, great. He and the other chaperones really had their work cut out for them this evening. And the clothes they were wearing. Some in dress robes, but most in an odd assortment of muggle clothing. In his day, no self respecting witch or wizard of any age would be seen dead in muggle clothing. He shook his head at the younger generation.
Mind you, muggle dresses were a lot more revealing than dress robes. There was a lot of female flesh on display tonight. Backs, curves of breasts, thighs and even midriffs. My God, was that a pierced navel? He looked closer at the student in question. Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin. Yes, it was a pierced navel, and with that girl, it probably wasn’t the only thing that was pierced.
He closed his eyes and shuddered when he noticed Millicent Bulstrode in a black strapless gown. That girl should stick to robes at all times. The more covered she was, the better.
Ah, here they come. Those popular Gryffindors. He had to admit that Lavender Brown looked good, in a dress that somehow gave the illusion of revealing a lot more than it actually did. And the Weasley girl. Who would have thought that gold silk would have complemented her red hair and fair skin? Who was that with them? Not Patil or Granger… hang on. He looked a little closer. Hermione Granger. What a surprise. While still not a raving beauty, she brushed up quite well.
There was Weasley and his girlfriend. Apart from the Slytherins, he was most likely to spike the punch. Snape looked around. Where was the other half of that particular duo? Running deliberately late to maximize the impact of his entrance? No doubt with his latest conquest on his arm. He smiled, secretly admiring the way Potter had slept his way through most of the female student body.

Hermione felt like the ugly sister. Well, not quite ugly. Perhaps the less beautiful one, the shorter one. Alistair Stone had been quite chivalrous, but she knew that she was not the one he would have chosen to escort tonight. As she watched established couples cuddling or standing together with arms around each other comfortably, she wondered what it would like to be ‘the one’ that someone would choose. Bloody Valentines Day! Flaunting her single status in her face.
She looked around. The Slytherins were sticking pretty much to themselves. Hufflepuffs tended to be circulating fairly well. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were slowly beginning to venture from the safety of their own groups. Most of the professors were looking alert, but relaxed. Snape especially. Was that a smile?
“Have you seen Harry lately? He is coming, isn’t he?” she asked Ron.
“Yeah, he’s coming. He went off to meet Malfoy about two hours ago.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to know what’s taking him so long.”
Hermione laughed. “I wonder if they’ll really turn up together.”
Ron nodded. “I’d say so. You know what Harry’s like when he sets his mind to something.” He gave in to Summer’s subtle tapping on his arm and moved to the dance area with her.
Hermione glanced around for Alistair, finally spying him dancing with a shy, but pretty Hufflepuff girl. Oh great. That had to be a record, abandoned within ten minutes of being there.
“Where’s Harry?” Morgan, an attractive sixth year girl asked from behind Hermione.
Hermione turned. God this girl was rude. Just because she was pretty. “I beg your pardon. Were you talking to me?” She deliberately kept her voice cold.
Morgan glared at her. “Yes. Where’s Harry?” Haughty bitch.
“What makes you think I’d know? I’m not his keeper.”
“Well, we just thought that, being as he hadn’t asked any of us, he was probably coming with you.” Morgan giggled and looked around at her circle of friends. “Because you couldn’t get a date.”
Hermione flushed with anger. “Get fucked.” She turned her back on the girls.
“Oh, I intend to. I’m just waiting for Harry to get here.”
Oh for… As she listened to the inane giggling of Morgan and her silly friends it was on the tip of her tongue to let them know of Harry’s sexual orientation.
No, she thought, it would be a lot sweeter when both the boys walked in together. She was looking forward to seeing disappointment and confusion on a great many female faces. To get away from the giggling girls she made her way over to the refreshments table. God, she needed a drink… a real drink.
“Having a nice time, Miss Granger?”
Snapping out of her reverie, she looked up at Professor Snape. Even across the other side of the table, he was still a lot closer than she wanted him to be.
“I need a drink.” She muttered.
He gestured with his hand. “Plenty here.”
“I don’t suppose you… er… forgot to cancel out any alcohol in these drinks, did you?”
“No, Miss Granger, I didn’t.” He gave the mildest of smiles. “Why?”
“I don’t think I’m going to survive this. It’s way too…” She waved her arm generally in the direction of happy couples.
“Pink?\" Snape offered. “Happy?”
Hermione smiled. Was that a small witticism from the sour potions master? It was certainly two words that she’d never thought she’d hear him say in the same sentence. “Annoying.” She confirmed with a nod.
“I’m assuming you have an escort this evening, Miss Granger.”
“Why?”
He gestured an elegant hand at her. “You’re looking rather more pleasant than usual.”
What was that? A compliment? An insult? A little of both or just plain sarcasm?
“Well then, if that’s the case, we can assume you haven’t.” Whoa, where did that come from? She looked around wildly. It was such a long way to the exit. Her eyes met his…
Which were not nearly as murderous as she expected them to be. “Touché, Miss Granger.” He tapped a glass of fruit punch with his wand and handed it to her. “Drink?”
“What did you do to it?”
”Don’t be so suspicious girl. I’m not allowed to poison students. Just drink it.”
Hermione took a healthy mouthful from the glass. She swallowed it as her eyes watered, but she managed not to choke. “You could have at least warned me.” She managed to squeak, for the fruit punch in her glass, while still retaining the look of fruit punch, had become Snape’s favourite old Scotch. Which was not supposed to be guzzled.
Snape smiled. “Keep hold of that glass, Miss Granger. Anything that goes into it will become a very potent Scotch whisky.” His eyes held hers. “Do you think you can handle it?” His voice was soft and silky, almost a caress.
Hermione swallowed, blinked and took another mouthful, thought smaller than the last. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was being chatted up. By the feared potions master no less. “Ummm, yes sir.” Let the smart alec work out for himself how she could handle hard liquor at seventeen. After the drinking games the Gryffindors had indulged in with the Slytherins, she was becoming quite adept at holding her drink. She looked up at him again. Those dark eyes really were terribly hypnotic, and sexy. He was extremely elegant, for a man. She wondered if he were gay, hence the lack of female companionship tonight, and thought that sharing a few drinks with him might provide the answer to that question while making the evening more bearable.

Draco prowled around Harry, looking at him critically from all angles. He licked his lips with anticipation at the beautiful sight his boyfriend presented. Having only just dressed Harry in the tight black leather pants and black, strategically ripped sleeveless t-shirt, he felt like stripping the boy and ravaging his naked body. Pushing its way to the front of his thoughts was the question of how long they had to stay this evening, or even if they had to go at all.
“Do we have to go?” Harry unknowingly echoed the blonde’s thoughts.
Draco sniggered and let his fingers skim fleetingly over Harry’s crotch. “Down boy.” His lips brushed those in front of him with a sensual promise. “Besides, I have a surprise for you.” He removed Harry’s glasses, pointed his wand and said, “Optica.”
Harry blinked as Draco slowly came into focus. He rubbed his eyes. “What did…? How…?”
“Just a small charm I’ve been working on. It’s not permanent or anything. It’ll probably give you a couple of hours.” Draco sounded extremely pleased with himself. He watched Harry studying his new reflection in the mirror and wrapped his arms around the slim waist in front of him, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “A simple ‘Thanks Draco.’ will suffice, you vain bastard.”
Harry turned in the circle of Draco’s arms. “Thanks love.”
Draco smiled. It was nice to be looking into Harry’s eyes knowing that Harry could see him, not just a fuzzy blonde blur. His hands slid over the leather clad hips and pulled them closer to him, while he initiated a soul searing kiss.
Harry shifted uncomfoly ily in the trousers. They were way too tight and left very little to the imagination. Couple that with what Draco had just done to him and he didn’t feel like going to this Valentines Ball at all. He ground his pelvis against Draco’s and let his hands caress the tight arse, determined to make the other boy as aroused as he now was.
Draco groaned. The dragon hide trousers were softer than the leather that Harry wore, but still tight and just as constricting. He wanted nothing more than to rip the damn things off of both of them and fuck like animals right now. But he also wanted to walk into the Great Hall with Harry and see the looks on the faces of all those simpering Gryffindor girls, especially the hypocritical ones who denounced him one minute for his attitude to their beloved hero and wanted to fuck him the next. Shallow half-wits!
Harry bit Draco’s neck and moved away from him. “We either go to this thing right now or fuck.”
“Language Potter.” Draco drawled. “First the eyes, then we go.”
Harry sighed. He was a bit worried that Draco’s eyeliner fetish was getting out of hand, but submitted anyway. All in all, the look was pretty damn hot.

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