The Taming of the Snape
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
9,427
Reviews:
29
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
9,427
Reviews:
29
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.
Homework
A full minute passed before Snape realised that …
1. He was still staring dumbly at the door,
2. There was nothing left to stare at **sauntered!!!** and
3. His hand was still raised and holding that infernal scroll.
He sniffed. He sniffed again in blatant disgust. It was even bloody scented.
Snape mentally listed the perfume ingredients, a ‘Potion Master’ habit he called it. He guessed that chefs did the same thing when they ate out … pulling the meal mentally apart and analysing its constituent parts.
It hit him. It was his aftershave. The one he created for a friend who had settled in France and branched out into the muggle field of perfumes.
(Yes he does have them you know, friends that is. Although the list is somewhat shorter than the one that starts … People who want to kill me err him)
He dropped the scroll onto his desk as if it might bite him. It was even tied with a deep Slytherin green ribbon. Glaring at it all the while through narrowed eyes he vainly hoped it might burst into flames and save him the trouble of reading the bloody thing.
Snape often thought that he must actually enjoy the more subtle forms of torture. Once he tried vainly to not read any of the homework passed in, then he tried to just read the first and last page. Then he endeavoured to just read snatches. But he had to admit if it was given to him he felt strangely compelled to read every last blasted misspelt word.
He was going to have to read that wretched perfumed parchment. He poked it with his wand. It was definitely more than the requested two feet. He went back to sorting the books into respective reading order.
His eyes kept wandering across the desk to the blasted parchment. It was still there, not that he really expected it to not be, but half of him rather hoped that the perfumed ribbon wrapped roll might just be a delusion. **sauntered** his mind tried to suggest it might be safe to read. *sexy*.
No he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to do this without his best friend Ogden’s help.
He made four tidy piles out of the homework. Piles one and two were of the best students from both houses. Where piles three and four would no doubt have to be read with three vital items to hand, being
1. A grain of proverbial salt,
2. A headache potion. A good one … his own naturally
3. Copious amounts of red ink
Once he was absolutely certain it wasn’t going to rip off his arm and beat him to death with the wet end. He rose from his chair and snatched up the parchment.
Almost as an after thought he dug Harry’s … He mentally reprimanded himself **Potter**, Potter’s book out of the pile, grabbed a headache potion for good measure and left for his Private rooms.
1. He was still staring dumbly at the door,
2. There was nothing left to stare at **sauntered!!!** and
3. His hand was still raised and holding that infernal scroll.
He sniffed. He sniffed again in blatant disgust. It was even bloody scented.
Snape mentally listed the perfume ingredients, a ‘Potion Master’ habit he called it. He guessed that chefs did the same thing when they ate out … pulling the meal mentally apart and analysing its constituent parts.
It hit him. It was his aftershave. The one he created for a friend who had settled in France and branched out into the muggle field of perfumes.
(Yes he does have them you know, friends that is. Although the list is somewhat shorter than the one that starts … People who want to kill me err him)
He dropped the scroll onto his desk as if it might bite him. It was even tied with a deep Slytherin green ribbon. Glaring at it all the while through narrowed eyes he vainly hoped it might burst into flames and save him the trouble of reading the bloody thing.
Snape often thought that he must actually enjoy the more subtle forms of torture. Once he tried vainly to not read any of the homework passed in, then he tried to just read the first and last page. Then he endeavoured to just read snatches. But he had to admit if it was given to him he felt strangely compelled to read every last blasted misspelt word.
He was going to have to read that wretched perfumed parchment. He poked it with his wand. It was definitely more than the requested two feet. He went back to sorting the books into respective reading order.
His eyes kept wandering across the desk to the blasted parchment. It was still there, not that he really expected it to not be, but half of him rather hoped that the perfumed ribbon wrapped roll might just be a delusion. **sauntered** his mind tried to suggest it might be safe to read. *sexy*.
No he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to do this without his best friend Ogden’s help.
He made four tidy piles out of the homework. Piles one and two were of the best students from both houses. Where piles three and four would no doubt have to be read with three vital items to hand, being
1. A grain of proverbial salt,
2. A headache potion. A good one … his own naturally
3. Copious amounts of red ink
Once he was absolutely certain it wasn’t going to rip off his arm and beat him to death with the wet end. He rose from his chair and snatched up the parchment.
Almost as an after thought he dug Harry’s … He mentally reprimanded himself **Potter**, Potter’s book out of the pile, grabbed a headache potion for good measure and left for his Private rooms.