An acceptable way to spend a Horrid Day

Severus had always hated this day, owed in no small part to associations of Lockhart, hideous pink décor and singing dwarves.

He loathed the sickeningly sweet mood that seemed to fill the castle, the continuous giggling of the female students, and how even his own colleagues seemed to degenerate to frivolous fools, indulging in gossip and speculation of who had sent whom a Valentine’s card. Of course the current favourite topic of speculation was none other than the star of the wizarding world Harry Potter-because Heaven Forbid that any topic be breached in the staff room without it leading to concern for their resident celebrity’s ‘fragile emotional state’.

He was too disgusted with the surge of adolescent hormones all around to summon the energy to do his rounds –let Filch have the pleasure of handing out detentions to flustered and disheveled teenagers engaging in acts he preferred not to contemplate, in spots they considered ‘private’. Only a fool would believe the Astronomy Tower an appropriate venue for such activity-he conveniently ignored his own recollection of being interrupted in the middle of a rather heated session with Bellatrix Black. Minerva, the old bat, still liked to give him meaningful looks whenever they decided on detentions for students engaging in the time-honoured Hogwarts tradition of defiling the Tower.

His plan had been to spend a quiet evening gradand and failing the Hufflepuff’s third year essays, currently spread out in front of him on the desk.

But as had become somewhat of a theme in Severus’ life, his plan had spectacularly been foiled.

And for once, he wasn’t complaining.

The truth is, he’d lost all ability to complain, or indeed do anything but clutch at the sides of his chair the moment warm lips wrapped themselves around his cock.

The owner of that increasingly skilled mouth was currently running their tongue alone une underside of the shaft, pushing his knees further apart to gain better access. One hand encircled the base of his cock in a firm grip, while the other methodically explored the area directly beneath, fingers lightly brushing the skin in a methodical exploration of that spot that…oh, yes. Just there.

The groan that he let out taken as an encouragement, a pliant mouth engulfed the head, sliding down his length at an agonisingly slow rhythm, the synchronised stroke of the hands adding to the exquisite torture.

Resisting the urge to reach out with his hand and control the movement, he instead gripped the armrest, his knuckles whitening from the pressure.

The deliberate scrape of teeth over the sensitised skin made him involuntarily jerk in pleasure, his knee knocking against the side of the desk in a loud and undignified way.

He felt, more than heard, his tormentor’s soft laughter, the effect of the vibration againss als already painful erection making him forget to be angry at the audacity.

He forgot everything but the feeling of a tongue tracing complicated patterns around his length, following the outline of the raised vein on the underside, and prodding it insistently until his hips buckled against his will, attempting to thrust despite the inconvenience of the angle.

As if sensing his frustration a paid of small hands came up and gripped his hips with surprising strength, effectively pining him to his chair.

His gaze locked with a pair of eyes that lately occupied his thoughts more often than he’d care to admit. Under Veritaserum or torture. His unspoken question was answered when the hand adjusted the angle of his cock, sliding down in a more controlled manner.

He watched in fascination as his cock disappeared until that swollen mouth, until the lips almost made contact with the base.

Still immobilised on the chair, he surrounded to the sensation of warm, and wet, and impossibly deep, and the armies of Voldemort storming the castle could not make him leave his chair right now.

His body tensed with, and the unexpected moan of pleasure around his cock sent him over the edge, coming hard enough to make the room momentarily out of focus, his seed being greedily swallowed.

He attempted to regain his bearings even as he became aware of a gentle suction action, before his softening member was reluctantly surrendered. He tucked himself into his clothes despite the shaking of his hands, the sense of overwhelming both new and not entirely unwelcome.

Moving his chair back he offered his hand, feeling to strange urge to express something he had no name for.

Whatever was at the tip of his tongue was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, breaking the spell, his own surprised reaction mirrored by a yelp of surprise underneath the desk.

Not Dumbledore. If some Higher Power existed at all in this word, please let it be anybody but Dumbledore.

‘Professor? It’s me, Draco, can I come in?’

A marginal improvement.

Attempting to draw on some of the self-composure that had kept him alive all those years as a spy, he pushed his chair as close as humanly possible to the desk without cutting off his circulation, his foot giving a not too subtle nudge to the occupier of the desk in warning.

‘Enter.’ He tried, testing his most authoritative tone.

Draco stormed into his office with all the confidence of familiarity, and a very vexed expression.

Severus hoped that he looked as composed as he manage to sound, and firmly repeated to himself that his intrusive protégé did not have the ability to see through solid wood, unlike certain all-knowing Headmasters.

‘Sorry to barge in like that sir.’ He sounded anything but. ‘But I needed to get away from the Slytherin Common Room.’

‘You know that my door is always open you you Draco.’

Except now.

The boy nodded in relief, and slumped down on the chair facing him in the manner of one who didn’t intend to go anywhere anytime soon.

That wouldn’t do at all. He briefly considered bodily tossing him out, mentor status and thoughts of Lucius be damned. Hell, the boy could go and get the Mark right now for all he cared.

Reigning that impulse in, he aimed for ‘casual interest’.

‘Is there any specific reason you’re avoiding your Housemates’ company?’

Spurred on by the breaching of one of his favourite subjects, himself, Draco enthusiastically launched into a tirade.

‘It’s this day sir! Seems to have all the girls acting worst than…than those blasted Lockhart fans! I’ve already been cornered by Pansy demanding explanations on why I hadn’t sent her a bloody card, going on and on about how we should get back together even if our one and only date was two bloody years ago, and Blaise has been dropping innuendo the whole day and practically pawing me, and don’t get me even started on Millicent…’

Draco shuddered at that last part, lng ang at Severus with the air of someone expecting sympathy.

Oh, yes, getting propositioned by three women in one day. What a tragic life the boy led-if only Severus had such problems at seventeen.

‘While I can appreciate your predicament,’ he turned on the sarcasm to full effect, ‘I’m really not the appropriate person to turn to for advice on the matter. I am utterly unconcerned by the whims and moods of women.’

The less than gentle bite on his inner thigh startled him, and suddenly getting Draco Malfoy out of his office became imperative.

‘But Sir,’ he whined, ‘they all seem to be obsessed with this stupid tradition, and keep expecting gifts, and cards, and probably some grand declaration. They’re impossibly shallow!’

The irony of the last statement was not lost on anyone in the room.

‘Since the company of girls is so tedious Draco, might I suggest you find some other way to focus your energy today?’

The emphasis seemed to get Draco’s attention; the boy looked at him questioningly, and left his chair, starting to go around the desk, where he would surely see…

‘Damnit Boy!’ He shouted, managing to effectively pass panic as blind rage. ‘I’ m too busy right now to deal with your insipid adolescent angst. Now unless you want to earn detention, take your identity crisis somewhere else.’ His lips curling into a sadistic smile, he delivered one last viscious blow. ‘Go bother Potter!’

Looking very much like he’d been slapped, Draco lingered uncertainly for a moment –though if that hurt expression was because of the unprecedented threat of detention or the inference was anyone’s guess- then quickly turned on his heel and ran out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

Severus promptly cast a loc spe spell on the door, his shoulders slumping sagging in relief.

The now howling laughter beneath the desk reminded him of the reason for his predicament, and in a swift motion he reached down, pulling a very entertained Hermione Granger into his lap.

‘I suppose you find this amusing, you impertinent girl.’ His hissing tones stopped her laughter short, though by the way she became suddenly fascinated by his mouth, he could tell the effect wasn’t the fear he usually went for.

Pursuing the thread, he ran a hand over her hair, which was in a state of disarray even by her standards.

‘I’m sorry.’ She said unconvincingly. ‘I’m just not used to seeing you so…panicked.’

‘Mocking a teacher…surely this calls for some form of punishment.’ His threatening tone was contradicted by his absent stroking of her hair, and the hitching of her breath confirmed that while he might be able to get a range of reactions from Hermione, fear was no longer one at them.

‘I must be losing my touch.’ He mumbled, but then she grabbed his face with both hands and captured his lips in a very determined kiss, and he decided that maybe that wasn’t so bad.

The lingering taste of himself on her tongue send a twitch to his cock, which was altogether too soon after an act for a man his age. But then again, the last couple of months had served to shred a lot of his old preconceptions about himself.

Breaking the kiss, but still holding her face inches from his, a thought occurred to him.

‘I don’t suppose you have also become a slave of this cursed holiday-much like every other female in this school?’

‘Honestly Severus, you know me better than that. This holiday is nothing but fake sentimentalism. Besides,’ at that she gave him a wry grin. ‘I don’t think you’re exactly the flowers and candy type.’

A bit like saying that The Dark Lord was not the Muggle tolerance type.

‘Just as long as you don’t expect anythingticuticular from me today…’

Suddenly a mischievous look crossed her face.

‘Oh…I never said that.’

Catching on quickly Sererus swept all the Hufflepuff essays –that were definitely not getting graded today- on the floor, and tossed her on the desk, silencing her startled gasp by covering her lips with his own.

As he proceeded to claim her mouth with his tongue he had to admit that this day was perhaps did have its merits after all.