Who Knew?

Disclaimer: The characters and places of this story are the property of J.K. Rowling. I only created the situations they find themselves in during this story. I make no money from this writing – it is strictly for amusement!

WARNINGS: VOYERISM/EXHIBITIONISM, MASTURBATION INVOLVING A MINOR

Chapter 1. A Summer of change:

Harry Potter entered the house reluctantly, having completed the gardening for the day he dreaded what his next chore would be. He was stopped short when he realized that Aunt Petunia had company in the dinning room. She would not want to be bothered by Harry while entertaining a guest, especially as he was covered in dirt and grass. Flooded with relief, he turned back to the stairs in anticipation of a cool shower, only to be stopped short again with his heart pounding in his chest. ‘That voice! The guest! It couldn’t be! Not here, in the Dursley’s house!’ Harry eased his way back down the hall way toward the dinning room, straining to catch every word of the conversation. He paused at the door, trying to peer through the crack. If he could get just the proper angle… ‘YES!’ Without any thought of the possible reproach he could receive he burst into the room, eager to hear the explanation for this visit.

“Harry,” Aunt Petunia shrieked. “Where are your manners? Can you not see that I have a guest?” Turning back to her guest she continued, “You can see, as I told you, he is truly a hopeless case! We have tried simply everything.”

Harry stood rooted to the floor, open mouthed.

“Harry, this is our new neighbor from across the garden. Minnie McGonagall, my nephew of whom we have been speaking.”

“Our – our new – neighbor,” Harry stammered.

“Her Son-in-law, Severus, I believe you said his name was?” Aunt Petunia received a curt nod from a smiling Professor McGonagall, “Severus bought the house at 3 Wisteria Way for Minnie to summer in. She is a professor at a boarding school in Scotland. As I understand it, Severus and other family members will also spend time here through out the year. Severus? Is that Scandinavian? What is it that he does which requires so much travel?” Petunia Dursley asked, turning her attention once again to her guest and leaving Harry speechlessly scrambling to piece together the scene unfolding before him.

“You know, I am not certain of the origin of his name, and he works for the government, in a branch dealing with juveniles, education, corrections, counseling, that sort of affair. He takes youth between the ages of 11 and 18, who are often very confused and frightened, and attempts to turn them into productive members of our society. He has a very stern hand and no-nonsense approach that is highly effective. He would do well with this one, I assure you. He will be here a fair amount of the holidays, send the boy over. Severus never turns away a challenge, and as I am advancing in years myself, I will have several things that require the use of a strong back. Oh, yes, do! Send the boy over anytime. I will always have some sort of manual labor that needs attending to.” McGonagall shot a severe look at Harry, a look that did not quite reach her still smiling eyes.

Turning in the direction of the glance, Aunt Petunia took stock of Harry’s appearance, “Well? What are you still standing there for? Go and get yourself cleaned up!”

Harry headed back to the stairs in shocked silence, McGonagall and Snape, and other members of the family were going to be his neighbors for the summer? He left the door ajar and moved as slowly as possible in order to hear more of the conversation.

McGonagall was saying “… he just fell in love with the beautiful grand fireplace, and the garden of course, both of which will need much attention before they can be of any use…”

\'The fire place! Of course! It will be connected to the floo network!\' When he stepped into the cool spray of the shower he felt more energized than he had in weeks. Later that evening, Harry had the most enjoyable dinner he could remember having with the Dursley’s. It was only spoiled by the fact he had to pretend to be miserable. It seemed that arrangements had already been made for Harry to spend most of the summer working for “Minnie”, and the Dursley’s decided that this summer would be perfect for their holiday in Majorca, an entire month, without Harry!

As Harry lay on his bed, propped against the wall, he considered what a twist of fate it was that the house across the garden had become ‘Wizard Central’; an outpost of the Order to be sure, but Harry was overjoyed at the new possibilities the summer now held. His eyes were drawn to the sudden appearance of a light across from his room - in Number 3 Wisteria Way. The night’s new moon darkness, and the darkness of his own room, gave Harry cover from which he could safely observe the activities of the lighted room. Through the window Harry could see most of a large bed, and a door beyond that. Snape stepped into view and opened the door. Apparently it was a closet, as Snape was wearing only a towel around his hips. Harry’s stomach began to tighten and throb as he admired Snape’s physical build - broad shoulders with lean muscles tapering into a surprisingly narrow waist and hips. That his muscles were visible from this distance indicated power and strength; an athletic nature Harry would never have imagined. He thought back to the Potions Master he knew… ‘A Death Eater, a spy, tortured as a child… The grace and cat like agility in his movements… The speed of his reflexes… Yes, this was definitely a man who would work his body, constantly testing and pushing its limits.’

Harry could also see scars crossing Snape’s back. ‘They must have been horrible wounds for the scars to be this clear. He really does have an amazing body… OH MAN! Where did that come from?’ As embarrassed as Harry was over his own thoughts, he could not take his eyes from the older man in the window. ‘He’ll kill me! Somehow he’ll know!’ Snape laid some clothes on the bed, then removed his towel and finished drying off. ‘WOW! I’m impressed!’ Harry admitted to himself when Snape faced the bed while toweling off his long black hair, presenting a view of his semi-erect cock. Harry could feel the heat in his face and a throbbing ache in his groin demanding to be released. As Harry’s hand slid beneath the covers, he silently begged for Snape to dress slowly. His own raging erection jumped and twitched as Harry slid his boxers to his knees and the covers brushed across the swollen head. He stroked hard and fast at his seeping cock while he watched, mesmerized by the slight swaying of the other man’s endowments.

Snape froze, startled by the strength of the images he was receiving. ‘Potter stroking Snape’s own cock, teasing him by playing in the fluids seeping from the tip… A tentative tongue licking the pre-come from a Quidditch callused hand… Potter’s mouth taking in his cock slowly, struggling to reach the wiry dark hair around the base… Snape’s long fingers probing Potter’s puckered opening, tight and virginal…’ After a stunned moment, Snape realized that Potter must be watching from across the way. The images he was receiving were Potter’s own thoughts, fantasies he was so focused on that he had began transmitting his thoughts. Considering his skills in Legilimency and Occlumency, this broadcasting ability was not a surprising turn of events, but an interesting one none the less. However interesting it may be though, it did not alleviate the problem it had created for Snape.

‘Ever predictable teen-age hormones,’ he mused to himself. However, since he was in an exceptionally good mood to begin with, and did in fact find himself with some spare time… ‘So Potter, you have a dark secret. This could come in useful.’ Snape sat on the foot of his bed, slightly reclined on his left arm. He brought his right hand to his chin and trailed his fingers down across his Adam’s apple, slowly - and received a jolt of sensation from the young mind across the garden, ‘Lips sucking gently on the same spot.’ Inwardly chuckling, he followed a lazy meandering path down to one nipple, gracing it with the faintest of touches, and was instantly met with a sizzle of mental sensation, ‘Teeth firmly tugging on his nipple.’ Firmly pinching and rolling the other nipple brought another similar response.

By the time his hand finally made its way to his own leaking cock, he had already received the image of one white-hot explosion, and erratic jumbling of sensory receptors, but Snape could not resist the characteristic quirking of an eyebrow when he realized that instead of cooling off and calming, the young man in the darkened room was just getting warmed up. Snape took hold of his cock and began long, slow, gentle strokes, from the base to the point almost breaking contact between the head and the edge of his palm. The images he continued to receive were electrifying, feverishly hot, breath ragged and through clenched teeth, head thrashing on a pillow, leg muscles so tense they verged on cramping, a tight fist slamming down into dark wiry hair hard and fast, as if he was literally attempting to rip the next orgasm from himself, arse throbbing from being unprepared for the exploration of the invading fingers, his gut was tightened rock hard with the tension of a massive orgasm building. Snape dropped his head onto his left shoulder and forced his own gut to relax, and with a devious sneer, projected the sensation of his own relaxed and tingling gut into the voyeur’s mind.

‘Oh God… Ohhh… Fuck… nnmmm…’ Harry was sending very intense sensations, and Snape could tell that he was struggling between holding back his orgasm, or letting it consume him. Snape allowed himself a few indulgent moments of enjoyment at the sensation Harry was experiencing. It was actually quite painful. Snape allowed that exact sensation to build through his own groin.

‘Yesss… Let it go,’ Snape directed into Harry’s thoughts as he felt his own orgasm explode from him. He knew Harry was still watching; he had been unable to look away. He struggled to quickly regain his composure in case he was needed, either to help Harry finish or step in if the Dursleys interceded. He was relieved that the first assistance would not be necessary, as Harry screamed into his mind.

Another image of a searing, white-hot explosion followed by a stream of jumbled senses and Snape found himself seeing a younger hand, Harry’s, still stroking over his own cum coated cock. From the corner of his eyes, he watched the house for any signs of sudden movement. He knew how loud Potter’s mental scream had been, but had the boy enough self-control to remain silent and avoid repercussions from his aunt and uncle? Still closely observing the house, Snape retrieved the towel and began to gingerly clean up. By the time he was through, he had decided that the boy, no, young man, did indeed have some self-control.

‘Rather, he’s simply not a screamer. Don’t get overly confident with your praise,’ he amended, upon sensing that the young mind had already shut down and was entering R.E.M. sleep with startling speed. Glancing at the clock on the dresser, he decided that while he still had time to make his dinner reservation, he was in the mood for something a bit more substantial than the Chinese meal he had been craving earlier. Somewhere, there was a lobster with his name written on it!

***
As Ginny Weasley set in the middle of her temporary quarters, she marveled at the prospects the summer now held. Until last week she had assumed she would spend this one like all the others, surrounded by family, silently conforming to what everyone expected of the youngest family member. Head Master Dumbledore had instigated the change of plans when he appointed Professor Snape to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Instructor, in addition to the Potions Master position he currently held.

Snape made the fateful announcement to his fifth year Potions students during the last week of the term.

“I will require two assistants for the next school year. Applicants must score Exceeds Expectations on both their Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts Training O.W.L.S. You will remain at Hogwarts during the summer so that you may attain the level of proficiency which will be required for you to perform satisfactorily as my assistant. You will also need written consent from a parent or guardian to remain at the school, and to accept the inherent risks associated with teaching incompetent dunderheads in both classes. If you cannot meet these guidelines, do not waste my time applying for the position. And might I mention, these are the most minimal guidelines, not the maximum.”

The only thing Ginny had ever wanted as a career was to be an Auror. The chance to receive private training from one of the greatest Potions Masters of the time was too incredible to believe. Add to this the fact that the man was not only a Death Eater, but one of Voldemort’s trusted inner circle, and a spy for the order- Snape’s surly personality would be a small price to pay for such training. She knew she was the second best Potions student Hogwarts had seen over the past few years, possibly since Snape himself was a student. Hermione Granger was the best, but she had no desire to work so closely with Snape. Thanks to her experiences with Harry and Dumbledore’s Army, as well as her knowledge of the Order, Ginny knew she would be qualified for the position. With the war looming she knew her parents would welcome any additional training and preparation she could gain, so their permission would pose no obstacle. The only obstacle remaining was simply Snape’s decesion. He had rarely taken points from Gryffindor for her actions, and seemed to be somewhat favorable toward her in class, sparing her from his scathing remarks. Still, she had been surprised when he summonsed her to his side on Wednesday during dinner, and told her she had one of the two positions. It was no surprise to anyone that Draco Malfoy had the other.

Ginny and Draco had then been allowed to choose their private quarters for the summer. Draco had selected a suite of rooms two stories above the dungeons with a terrific view. It turned out that, because of the view, several of the professors had quarters in the vicinity. This seemed to suit Draco quite well. Ginny, however, chose a suite in the dungeons, citing quietness for studying, privacy in general, and the overall coolness the dungeons maintained during the balmy summer months. ‘A chance to see what it feels like on my own without having the worries of being on my own,’ she had boldly proclaimed.

She and Draco would share the duties for both classes. Ginny would have Potions first and second years, and Draco would have the third and fourth years. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco would take the first two years and she would take years 3 and 4. Snape explained that her temperament and attention to detail would be better suited to the younger Potions students, and her skills in defense would be put to better use with the older students. From Snape this was considered to be glowing praise. It reached the level of gushing praise when he added that only a very limited amount of additional training would be advisable for her in defense training, that being primarily how to work with him before a class full of students. Ginny had wished for a camera to capture the pure shock on Draco’s face when he registered the significance of Snape’s words. Draco, on the other hand, had been informed that he would require a minimum of four hours daily in defense practice in addition to the two hours, three times weekly defense training, the same amount of Potions training, and the associated preparation times.

On the last day of the term, Hermione had pulled Ginny aside for a sisterly conversation regarding Draco.

“Oh come on! I’ve seen the way he looks at you! All summer, together, relatively alone. It’s not rocket science you know.” Even though Hermione was like a sister to Ginny, she seemed reluctant to accept that Ginny was not interested in Draco. However, it caused Ginny to admit to herself the real reason she was so certain nothing would happen with Draco. In the back of her mind, she knew there was a form of Dark Art she was interested in learning about over the summer, and Draco would not be an able teacher.


Ginny paced back and forth in front of her closet studying her new wardrobe. As she would not be considered a student during the summer, she would not be required to ware the school uniform. The Gryffindor girls had all anted up various items of clothing to help Ginny achieve a more “mature” look to go with her new position. She had received everything from accessories to some rather provocative undergarments that caused her to blush just by looking at them. Some of the guys had even chipped in with tee-shirts, a few pair of sweat pants, shorts, pajamas, and a couple of dress shirts that weren’t white, Harry had even left behind his favorite pair of jeans; a pair which Professor McGonagall had transfigured to a more presentable appearance for Hogsmeade weekends. They were a good fit on him and stylishly baggy on her. ‘Yes. A new look is definitely in order. Attention getting but not offensive; suggestive but not blaring. No. Draco would not be an able teacher, but while Snape would be, would he be a willing one?’