Madame Scarlet's

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel, who despite her reluctance to read a SS pairing is still working on this for me. Hopefully that's a good sign. This fic is going to move fast because there is a lot of ground to cover, so buckle up. And now on to the smut!

Chapter 3 Resistance is Futile

Draco spent what felt like ages tracking the scent he had been so entirely attracted to in Potions three days ago. Every moment he wasn’t in classes he spent roaming the halls trying to pick up even a whiff of the intoxicating aroma, but had very little luck. He’d discovered the fragrance several times, but never the owner of it. Once he had followed it into the boy’s bathroom and it was so potent there that Draco knew he had been within moments of finally capturing his prize. It was terribly frustrating and painfully distracting.

He had failed to complete every single homework assignment given to him since he first discovered that there was someone out there that could diminish the beast within him and hoped his father’s pull would be enough to allow him to graduate on time. Though the pain that burned within him made the idea of schoolwork and even graduating at all seem quite trivial. Draco knew in his heart that what he suspected was true –the owner of that scent was the mate his mother had told him about. Narcissa was a full-blooded Succubus, not a half-breed like himself, so she never needed a mate. Her blood was true enough to give her the lasting life her kind were known for, but for Draco that life would be cut short if he was to go without his pre-determined mate for too long.

Given their long lifespan, too long could be anywhere from years to decades to even centuries; it was different with each pair, but Draco had no want to leave these things to chance. He wanted to find his mate and take them for his own, knowing it would finally quench the thirst that flowed deep inside him. He didn’t know how so many of his kind went for years without the peace a mate would bring –Draco had only been afflicted for a few months and already the beast was driving him mad.

So far he knew it was a male, unless girls frequented the boy’s loo as well. The revelation caught him a bit by surprise but Draco gave little thought to it; he’d been with his fair share of boy Slytherin’s and enjoyed himself. The other thing he was certain of was that his mate was a student and not one of the staff. He could hardly believe he’d nearly let Snape have his way with him when he wasn’t even ‘the one’; now that he knew his mate was no near, no other would do.

The only thing that worried him was his suspicion that his mate might be a Gryffindor, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure on this, so he tried not to dwell on it too much and let it ruin his day. It sounded preposterous to him at first, but the more he thought on it the more plausible it became, which he hated. First, there was the fact that he only caught the telltale scent in the classes that he shared with the Gryffindors, and he had already defiled nearly every other seventh year in Slytherin. Secondly, he often felt inexplicably drawn to the Gryffindor tower; he could sense his mate’s presence strongly there. He knew that it would be just his luck to be sidled with an over-emotional lion the rest of his nearly immortal life.

Still, Draco could only deal with one thing at a time, and his priority right now was finding his mate to begin with, afterward he could deal with the repercussions of who it was.

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The Great Hall was intolerable. Harry had a headache far worse than any of the pains he used to get through his scar and his veins felt as though they were being plucked from his body, lit on fire, and then crammed back into his flesh as singed up ashes only to be lit ablaze once more. His stomach churned, his ears were constantly assaulted with a shrill buzz, and every inch of his skin from his scalp to the tips of his toes yearned to be touched. Most days Harry attempted to simply grit his teeth and bare the aches so as to not draw additional attention to himself, but lately he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to do even that.

Nothing seemed to help, not even masturbation abated it any longer; his climax would dull the pain slightly, but Harry no longer achieved that moment of true peace anymore. His mind was fatigued from the pain and lack of sleep, while his body craved release in any way he could get it. He knew it wouldn’t be long until his urges overwhelmed him and he did something unforgivable.

This thought kept Harry very isolated. Unless he was in class he tried to keep away from people at all times. He frequently opted to avoid high traffic corridors during peak times between classes and meals. Harry’s roommates seemed oblivious to the fact that he tended to roam the halls at night instead of pretending to sleep.

Aside from the excruciating pain and the irrational arousal, the scariest thing was that Harry still had no explanation for what was causing any of it. He’d talked Hermione into doing some research, even though she was fairly convinced that it was just hormones, but so far his friend had found nothing of note. There were a few articles on accelerated libidos but always through the use of potions like Viagra, a drug that was somehow leaked to muggles in the form of a little blue pill. Harry assured her that he was taking neither incarnation so the information helped him very little.

Hermione’s justifications that it was natural hormone changes caused him even more worry, because what he was feeling couldn’t possibly be normal. He’d never heard Ron complain of excruciating, mind-numbing pain every moment of every day, and he was quite certain he would have overheard if one of the other boy’s had the compulsion to fuck everything in sight.

Hermione and Ron just couldn’t seem to understand why Harry was avoiding everyone, even them somewhat. While his two friends exhibited no flashes of odd behavior around him, Harry still felt as though he might snap and violate one –or both- of them if presented with an opportunity to do so. So it was with relief that Harry made his way to the Potions classroom for his detention that Friday. It made certain that he wouldn’t have to fall into long drawn out explanations of his whereabouts or have to slink through the castle trying to hide from all human contact.

Harry’s relief was short lived however, the minute he stepped into the dank dungeon classroom and was met with Snape’s winning sneer. Normally the man’s scathing hatred of him rankled Harry to the core but tonight it was different. As Harry took his usual seat, his entire body responded to the professor as if he were a magnet and Snape was a thick sheet of steel. Clearly denying himself relief from a more preferable partner had its downfall and Harry felt he would be lucky to leave the classroom with his sanity in tact. His own Gryffindor pride was merely assuring that he was going to lose himself to someone he had hated for seven long years.

Snape glided over and handed Harry a massive scroll. “Tonight you’ll be writing an essay on the reasons why its important to follow school rules, followed by the reasons you need to obey your superiors,” he ordered, his voice slithering over Harry like a silken blanket.

Harry only allowed himself to nod dumbly. He was terrified that if he opened his mouth something like ‘take me now’ might squeak out. Harry took the parchment while carefully avoiding contact with Snape’s fingers and unrolled it in front of him to begin writing out his detention assignment. He did his best to keep his eyes on the parchment and not let his gaze follow the Potion Master’s arse as he walked back to his desk.

“Focus, Harry,” he whispered to himself and began scratching out his first paragraph. He worked for nearly twenty minutes before he stopped to read over what he had written; his words had him blushing furiously. There on the page he had scrawled out every suggestive fantasy that had run unbidden through his mind during the span of his detention so far. He didn’t know how these words ended up written by his hand without his permission, but as he read them over he realized it eliminated any possibility of making it through the night without humiliation. His arousal seemed to grow ever more potent with each new word or phrase that his eyes swept over.

His gaze flicked up to Snape, who was deftly ignoring Harry while he graded papers, and then down to his own yearning cock; it was practically bursting through his trousers and, without much thought, he decided to take a chance. He’d wanked off in Potions class three days prior when the need arose and he wasn’t caught then, and that time he had been surrounded by students. Normally Harry wasn’t so bold, but the urge was so strong he couldn’t resist it.

Carefully he positioned himself so that the scroll covered part of his face and he pretended to keep writing while his left hand snaked down and silently undid the zip of his trousers. He nearly hissed when his cool fingers wrapped around his achingly hot flesh but he managed to disguise it by clearing his throat instead. Up and down he pumped his shaft, biting deeply into his bottom lip to keep from making any sound and trying desperately to keep his eyes open in case Snape looked up. The last thing he needed was for the Potions Master to catch him in the act and have him expelled. Wouldn’t that be one for the papers! ‘Pervert Potter caught with his dick in his hand’, yeah, that would be just perfect.

“Potter!” Snape called out. Harry froze. He nervously glanced up at the Potions Master with guilt clearly written across his face.

He watched as his professor glided up the aisle to where he now sat, his fist still wrapped around his erection, and leaned over him with a sneer. “Care to tell me why you’re back here jerking yourself whilst in my detention?” he asked. His voice was calm and level with only a tinge of a growl, but it was enough to make the Gryffindor blanch.

Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth and throat went dry, but no explanation, either plausible or farfetched, reached his lips before Snape pulled him up by the back of his robes to face him directly. He tried desperately to cover himself with his robes but with a flick of Snape’s wand Harry felt his clothing fall away, torn roughly form his body by a spell he’d never even known existed, and the Gryffindor immediately moved to cover his genitalia from the Potion Master’s narrow gaze.

The professor merely chuckled at the vain attempt at modesty and, with another flick of his wand, he had Harry hovering in the air, legs splayed and arms held out at his sides. Harry began to see the room spin, and realized that Snape was rotating him like a sideshow freak, gawking at him from every imaginable angle.

His entire body flushed with a mixture of poorly hidden lust and embarrassment as Snape tapped his wand against Harry’s painful erection. “Very impressive specimen for a student,” he noted with a smirk. “Who would have known that such a large and perfect member lurked beneath those frumpy robes?”

Another jab to Harry’s arse cheeks made him jump, but there was nowhere he could go. Horrifyingly, with every rotation he caught his professor’s deep black eyes and a wave of heat washed over him again. Harry had expended so much effort trying not to molest any of his innocent friends that he was now entirely spent. He knew he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to, and at the moment he didn’t. Finally, as he accepted his fate, the tension he felt at resisting his urges began to melt away while the hated professor ogled and prodded him.

“Quidditch has been good to you,” Snape mused out loud, running the tip of his wand along Harry’s abdomen and down his inner thighs, causing the boy to shiver.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re enjoying this,” Snape chuckled after clucking his tongue sharply teasing him.

Harry whimpered in response, not wanting to give the loathsome man the satisfaction of an articulate answer. He wasn’t sure he could find the words needed to beg the Potions Master for release, whether he be permitted to leave the classroom, or through fucking him then and there, he was to the point where it didn’t matter which.

The whimper seemed to do more than Harry expected though, as he found himself suddenly on his feet, and with his own free will of movement once more. He wanted nothing more than to flee the room, but he knew that the punishment for trying to escape would be worse than what he had just been put through; though how that could be possible, he did not know.

“Have you been feeling particularly aroused of late, Potter?” Snape asked him seriously. Harry was so humiliated all he could do was nod weakly. “Wanting release, craving it, needing it from anywhere you can find it?” he continued, and Harry nodded again. He finally felt a flicker of hope that someone in this confounded castle might know what was wrong with him.

“And have you been indulging in your wicked fantasies, Potter?” Snape asked him with a sneer. “Fucking your poor oblivious housemates to feed your beast?”

“No!” Harry shouted, finally finding an answer he could give firmly and truthfully. Although his voice still broke under the combination of arousal and embarrassment he felt at the while situation.

Snape chuckled and ran the fingertips of his bare hand along Harry’s jaw. “So you have only masturbated to relieve the ache?”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry replied, feeling his courage return in light of having withheld from debauching another classmate. He was proud of himself for holding out as long as he had, Merlin knew it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

But Snape didn’t seem to agree that Harry holding back was a good thing at all as he shook his head and clicked his tongue once more. “Well that certainly explains why you can’t seem to control your impulses in my classroom.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me sir, I just-“ Harry began, but Snape promptly cut him off by griping Harry’s cock firmly in his fist. Harry gasped, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch; he resisted moaning, but just barely.

“Just can’t help yourself?” Snape finished for him. “Yes, I know all about your kind, Mr. Potter, though I never in a million years suspected you would be among their numbers. I take it you have yet to figure out what you are?”

“Please, professor,” Harry begged, unsure what he was even begging for. The truth surely, he wanted more than anything to know what was wrong with him and, more importantly, how to fix it, but he also wanted release. He wanted to feel another’s touch so that he could sate the thirst that drove him to this madness at the start.

“What a pity Albus failed to tell you of your lineage before he passed,” Snape mused.

“Before you killed him you mean?” Harry hissed, his faculties returning enough to counter any insult toward his old mentor and friend.

“You already know why I did what I did, boy,” the professor snarled. His grip on Harry’s cock tightened and, instead of protesting, all Harry could do was groan his contentment into the dank air of the classroom. “I’ll spare you from expulsion and I may even tell you what you are if you do exactly as I say. Do we have an accord?”

Harry nodded dumbly, ready to agree to anything so long at the professor didn’t let go of his cock. The feel of his tight grasp made some of the encroaching pain softly fade around the edges. He could think a little clearer and he knew what he needed in that moment was to let the professor have his way with him.

“Undress me,” Snape ordered, but as Harry lifted trembling hands to Snape’s shirt button to obey he found them forcibly back at his side after a silent spell. “With your teeth,” the Potions Master amended with a smirk, his black eyebrows rising until they disappeared behind the shadowy fringe of his hair.

Fumbling and cursing at himself for his clumsiness, Harry reached for the buttons one at a time, slowly with tongue and teeth removing each one from its hole and then moving to the next until the professor’s shirt hung loose around him. The Potions Master shook the garment off and gestured for Harry to continue the undressing with his trousers.

After nearly puncturing his lip twice, Harry was finally able to remove the buckle, button and zip holding up Snape’s trousers; he watched as they fell from his waist and thighs to pool around his ankles. The professor moved out of them, taking a step back from the Gryffindor, and Harry swallowed thickly as he realized there were no further garments for him to remove, with his teeth or otherwise. His hated Potions Master stood naked and erect in front of him, and Harry found the sight to be more glorious than he had expected.

Harry studied the man’s pale physique, which probably rarely saw the light of day considering that, when he wasn’t locking himself away in the dungeons, he was wearing multiple layers of century old clothing. Snape was filled out, yet muscular, with slightly jutting hipbones and a flat stomach, both of which led Harry’s eyes to the part of the professor’s anatomy he was the most curious about.

The Potion Master’s prick was average in length, but extremely thick and decorated with throbbing purple veins; nothing like any of the other teenage boys he had seen in the locker room. Harry licked his lips at the sight, overwhelmed with thoughts of what he could do with something like that at his disposal.

Snape chuckled darkly and wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking once and then twice, making Harry nearly salivate to have the same pleasure. “On your knees, Potter,” he ordered, and Harry obeyed at once.

“Open your mouth,” Snape demanded, a subtle smirk playing at the edge of his own mouth as he watched Harry close his eyes and open wide, as if waiting for Snape to place a candied treat on his tongue.

Instead of a sugary sweet however, Harry got a mouthful of Snape’s cock, as the Professor fucked the Gryffindor’s perfect pink mouth. Its girth could barely fit, and Harry was swallowing around him while trying to breathe through his nose. After a moment however, the once embarrassed Gryffindor began to get used to the ache in his jaw and the lack of airflow, he started enjoying the task, licking and sucking at Snape’s prick in time with the man’s impatient thrusts.

The pain that had clouded his mind most of the time these days began to dissipate as he worked on his professor, but he could still feel the warmth build in his groin, begging to be released. He twice attempted to slip his hand down to stroke himself, and was both times warded off with a well placed stinging hex, making his frustration grow as hot as his lust.

Out of his peripheral vision he could see the Potions Master doing something with several flicks of his wand, but he couldn’t tell what until he felt a cold object breach his entrance and push its way inside his arse. Instant clarity crashed into him and for a second he wondered what in Merlin’s name he was doing, but he quickly regained his composure and started pushing back on the foreign object in order to maintain his faculties and keep the fog at bay. Never in his life had he felt so focused and full of purpose as he had in that moment; not when he was brought into Hogwarts, not when he had to defend his friends and the rest of the world from evil forces and not even on his march into the forest on his way to kill Voldemort once and for all. At last he felt peace, finally he felt as though his destiny was being fulfilled and all at the touch of the man he hated most –it was the worst kind of irony Harry could imagine.

“Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world indeed,” Snape teased harshly. “What would they think if they found out you were just a wanton whore, begging to be fucked?”

Harry wanted to dispute the fact, but it was rather hard to think of a witty comeback when his mouth was filled with the offending person’s cock and his arse was filled with Merlin only knew what. So instead he began to deep throat the professor in order to show him that Harry Potter might have some unknown talent yet, even if he was nothing more then a nerve ending, waiting to be rubbed off.

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Draco was on his way back from dinner, winding his way through the dungeon labyrinths when he caught whiff of that sweet and intoxicating aroma he had been chasing all week. He followed it blindly through the corridors, finally ending at the door of the potions classroom once more. He was about to turn away, frustrated once again at being led down the wrong path, when he heard muffled noises from inside and could smell the sweet fragrance intensify.

His prey was inside, someone that would pleasure him in such a way that his senses would return to normal, at least for longer than the average shag had gotten him so far. He was now a creature of want and desire, and nothing would change that, but inside that room was the person that would make it bearable, perhaps even preferable.

When Draco opened the door, however, he was met with the least likely of companions and the most awkward of situations.

On the floor, propped up on his knees, was none other than Harry Potter. At the hero’s mouth was Draco’s head of house, his fleshy wand thrusting deeply into the boy’s face. In the Professor’s hand, his magical wand was directing a glass vial used for potion ingredients in and out of Potter’s arse, and not a single article of clothing to speak of between them.

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Authors Note: Okay, so I think this is the first time that I've left a cliffhanger in the middle of smut....