Tricker Treated

Disclaimer The characters and the sheer genius belong to J K Rowling. Any smut is mine, but I don't make a penny/eurocent/cent from my warped imagination.

Tricker Treated

The icy autumn rain lashed against the glass of greenhouse three. Suddenly the door crashed open and the Weasley twins staggered in, carrying a huge brown sack between them. A gust of wind howled in through the open door and rattled the panes of the greenhouse. Professor Sprout looked up in annoyance.

"What on earth - " she began.

"Er, sorry," the twins chorused, slamming the door shut and upending the sack. A shower of large pumpkins tumbled out onto the floor. Fred cleared his throat. "They're from Hagrid's pumpkin patch, we've been taking the liberty of looking after them for him."

"And now Professor Dumbledore wants your class to carve them into spooky faces for the feast tonight," said George.

Professor Sprout looked at them suspiciously. "Professor Dumbledore does? Are you sure? Perhaps I should check -"

"No need," said Fred airily, "we've got his permission, look" and he produced a slip of parchment from his robes and waved it under her nose. Professor Sprout still looked faintly unconvinced, but gave a reluctant nod. Fred winked at Ron behind her back and began distributing pumpkins.

"Here, catch," said George tossing more pumpkins across the room. "There's enough for one between two!"

"Oops, doesn't seem to be one for you, Harry," Fred said.

"Doesn't matter, I can give Ron and Hermione a hand with theirs."

"Hang on a minute, Harry, I think there might be one more," and Fred rummaged around in the sack, eventually producing one last pumpkin. "The runt of the litter, this one."

Harry took it from him, and snorted with laughter. Whereas the other pumpkins were big, round and glowing a rich orange colour, this one was very different. It was skinny, malformed and an unhealthy pale yellow. "Look at this bit sticking out at the front," Harry said. "Could be a hooked nose."

"Looks a bit like Snape to me, mate," Ron said. "Chuck it in the bin and give us a hand with ours."

"Nah," Harry said, grinning. "Let's see if I can make it look even more like Snape."

"You're a man after our own heart, Harry," said George. "Well, see you later!" The twins winked at him and hurried out of the greenhouse, letting in another swirl of rain-laden wind.

By the end of the period, Harry had succeeded in producing a passable imitation of Snape's features on the sickly-looking pumpkin. There was just one thing missing ...

"Hair," Harry muttered, feverishly searching through a mass of pots and trays at the end of the greenhouse. "I need something for the hair ... ah!" as he pulled open a drawer to reveal a black, lank mass of dried seaweed. "Just the thing."

****************

Harry set off for Gryfindor tower, the pumpkin safely hidden in his school bag. He'd put a candle inside it and set it up in the common room, give everyone a bit of a giggle. As he climbed the stairs he heard a furtive hiss from one of the corridors. Was someone trying to attract his attention? Harry went cautiously along the corridor, looking for the source of the noise.

"Pssst!" It came again. Harry looked round and saw Fred and George Weasley lurking behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered, frantically waving at him. He went over to them.

"Hi, Harry," said George. "How did you get on -"

" - with your pumpkin art?" finished Fred. "We've done one too."

"Come and look," said George.

They pulled Harry into an empty storeroom and proudly pointed to a shelf.

"One we made earlier," said Fred.

"Can you guess who it is?" asked George.

Harry looked at the fat, squat pumpkin decorated with pink bows and burst out laughing. "Umbrage!"

"Right, we've showed you ours - " said Fred.

" - now you show us yours," said George.

"... so to speak," added Fred, with a wicked grin.

Harry put his bag down on the floor and delved inside, producing his Snape-pumpkin and holding it up for the twins' inspection.

"Not bad," said Fred, taking it from him and looking at it critically. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I thought I'd put it up in the Gryffindors' common room, give everyone a laugh. But I need a candle for it first."

"Well, it just so happens we can help you there," Fred said, pulling a box from his robes with a flourish and holding it out. "Special novelty candles for Hallowe'en, courtesy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"We're thinking of calling them Ghoulish Glowers," said George.

"What do they do?" asked Harry, looking at the box curiously. It was decorated with what looked like caricatures of various witches and wizards; among them he recognised the Minister for Magic and Professor McGonagall.

"Demonstation coming up," said Fred, taking a small candle out of the box. "Bung it into her High Inquisitoriship, George."

George took the candle and pushed it into the pumpkin through its wide, gaping mouth. Both twins put a hand on the top of the pumpkin and looked at Harry.

"It gives a sort of personal impression of the er, model," said Fred. "You have to think hard about what you dislike about them."

"So Umbrage makes a great subject," said George. "Plenty of material there."

The twins shut their eyes and screwed their faces up in concentration. The candle ignited, making the pumpkin glow eerily in the dim light of the storeroom. Harry stared at it, and gasped. It now bore an even more uncanny resemblance to Dolores Umbrage - the toad-like face, the unpleasant expression, even the pouchy, protruding eyes - how on earth did it do that?

"See?" George said complacently. "Essence of Umbrage."

"Your go, Harry," said Fred, proffering the box. Harry took out a candle and with some difficulty slid it into the thin slit he'd carved in his pumpkin for a mouth. Then he put his hand on the dried-seaweed hair, and hesitated.

"Come on, Harry," Fred encouraged him. "Just think of what you dislike about Snape. Shouldn't be hard."

Harry took a deep breath. Where to begin? He'd hated Snape since his very first day at Hogwarts - and the feeling was mutual; the way that man looked at him sometimes ...

He came to himself with a start. George had hold of his arm and was shaking him. "That's enough, Harry!"

"Yeah, any more lifelike and it'll start putting us in detention!" said Fred.

The three of them contemplated Harry's creation. It glowed with eerie menace ... and yet with a certain dark, sinister allure.

"You know, that's almost ... sexy," said Fred slowly.

"In a strange sort of way," said George.

"A strange, perverted sort of way," said Fred.

"Is there something you'd like to tell us, Harry?" they chorused.

"Stop winding me up," Harry said crossly. "It just looks - creepy."

"Well, it's far too good to waste on the Gryffindor common room," said Fred.

"Yeah, I think you should plant it down in the dungeons for the Slytherins," said George.

"Oh, I dunno," Harry said uncertainly. "What're you going to do with the Umbrage one?"

"Put it in her office," Fred said promptly. "Nice surprise for her."

"Okay then -" Harry started to grin. "If you're doing that, I WILL put this in the dungeons - can't be outdone by a pair of Weasleys, can I?"

"That's the spirit, Harry," said George, slapping him on the back. "We knew we could rely on you."

********************

That evening Harry stole towards the dungeons, the still-glowing pumpkin tucked under his cloak. His heart was thudding with excitement. He'd slipped away early from the Hallowe'en feast, and with any luck he should be able to plant the pumpkin and escape to Gryffindor tower with nobody the wiser. He wondered what Professor Umbrage would say when she went into her office and found the offering the Weasley twins had left for her. For that matter, what would Snape say when -

FLASH! There was a sudden explosion of brilliant white light, and then utter blackness. Harry found himself immobilised, blinded, and with an unpleasant chilly feeling all over. With a sinking sensation in his stomach he heard the caretaker Filch muttering to himself, apparently coming along the stone corridor towards him.

"Aha! Caught one of those little blighters at last, good trap that. Wonder who it is ..." Filch was saying, his voice getting louder as he approached. Harry flinched, he definitely didn't want to be recognised by Filch. But just then he heard the swish of a robe closer at hand - was it someone come to rescue him? - or was it -

"Hello, sir," came Filch's oily, ingratiating tones. "Nice trap of yours. It's caught one of them nasty students where he's got no business, trying to play a trick, I'll be bound. Let me punish him, Professor."

Harry's ears pricked up. Professor? Oh no ... not ...

"I'll deal with this ... myself," came Snape's voice, in his most silky tones. "No need for you to stay, Filch."

"At least take the bag off his head and let me see who it is," pleaded Filch. "I can report him to Professor Umbrage, she told me to let her know of any rule-breaking."

"That won't be necessary," Snape said in a cold, bored tone. "Run along, Filch."

"Well, if you say so," said Filch reluctantly.

"I do."

"Oh, very well," and Filch stumped crossly out of the dungeons, muttering to himself.

"Please let me go sir," Harry begged, blushing with fright and embarrassment.

Snape walked round the immobilised boy, regarding him from all angles. "Oh, I'm not in any hurry," he said softly, his black eyes glittering. "It's not often I have the pleasure of seeing the great Harry Potter as, ah, nature intended."

"Nature didn't intend me to have a bag over my head and my arms and legs frozen!" Harry said hotly. "How did you know it was me?" he added in a smaller voice.

Snape gave a sinister laugh. "Who else?" he murmured.

"Wait a minute ... " Harry was struggling with a horrible thought. "As nature intended ..." The chill, the strange sensation on his skin - "you mean I'm NAKED?"

"Just as quick on the uptake as I'd expect, Potter," Snape sneered. "Yes, I set a few protective spells around the dungeons ... they react appropriately to intruders ..." Harry desperately tried to stop himself trembling. "...in your case, the spell appears to have thought it appropriate to Vanish all your clothing, no doubt it recognised your innate, ah, exhibitionism ..." and with a swift movement he removed the bag from Harry's head and released the immobilising spell on his limbs. Harry glanced down and blushed, then looked up into Snape's intent gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, then Snape slowly and deliberately looked the boy up and down. He involuntarily ran his tongue round his thin lips, and his hand disappeared inside his robes. Harry's heart thudded furiously against his chest. He didn't want this kind of attention.

But his treacherous cock did. It rose of its own volition and pointed eagerly towards Snape, who took a hissing breath and stepped forward. Harry tensed, but before the older wizard reached him he came to a halt, his attention caught by the glowing pumpkin, which had rolled into a dark corner.

"And what have we here?" Snape asked grimly, looking at the pumpkin with dawning recognition. "Why, you little -"

"FUCK OFF!!" Harry shouted, raising clenched fists. Snape hissed again and caught hold of Harry's right fist, staring at the writing on the back of Harry's hand.

"I must not tell lies? What is this, Potter?"

"Lines with Umbrage," Harry mumbled furiously, glaring down at his hand.

"That evil bitch!" Snape spat. Harry looked up at him, startled. Snape wore an expression of utter fury: he'd never seen him so enraged. Harry shivered, Snape had an air of such malevolent power - what was he going to do?

But Snape was now looking at him with an odd expression - surely not concern? "You're shaking, boy. What is it?"

"Just cold," Harry lied.

Snape shrugged off his own outer cloak and wrapped it round the boy. Harry relaxed gratefully, though a little guiltily, into its warmth. "What if anything have you been taking for this?" asked Snape, scrutinising Harry's hand closely.

"Uh, Murtlap essence - Hermione thought of it - "

"A ... fairly ... satisfactory palliative," Snape said grudgingly. "But I think I can do better. Come with me, Potter!" He turned on his heel and strode towards his office. "And bring that thing with you,"

Harry scowled and followed, tucking the pumpkin under his arm. Mixed emotions were raging through him. Part of him wanted to run away, get as far from the dungeons and Snape as he possibly could. Another part ... well, his cock, mainly ... wanted to get closer still ...

At the door to his office, Snape halted, drew out his wand and carefully released his protective spells; then he ushered Harry inside. "Put that down," he ordered curtly. Harry propped the pumpkin up in an empty space on the top shelf; it seemed to leer down at him in amused anticipation. Harry clenched his fists again, and winced.

"Give me your hand, Potter." Snape murmured an incantation, his voice low and caressing, his wand tracing the outline of each letter on the back of Harry's hand. Finally he pressed his lips to the writing.

"Is this part of the treatment, sir?" Harry's voice shook slightly.

"Naturally." Snape's face was inscrutable. He reached for a small pot, dipped his long fingers into it and began gently smoothing a cool lotion over the scars. A fresh, flowery scent arose, with heady undertones. Harry sniffed at it eagerly.

"Wow, that's wonderful!"

"Aids the healing process." Snape's face was carefully blank as he added "Unfortunately it does have the side effect of certain, ah, aphrodisiac qualities."

Harry gasped, and swayed on his feet, feeling suddenly giddy. Snape's arm came round his shoulders, steadying him. Harry moaned and buried his face against Snape's neck. An aphrodisiac! So this was why he felt so ... so... needy ... as if he wanted ... With a snarl, Harry grabbed at Snape and slammed him against the wall. It was all this greasy git's fault! Hell, he'd probably PLANNED it ... it's not MY fault I feel like this, Harry thought confusedly, rubbing himself shamelessly against the older wizard, it's him, he's to blame for everything ...

Soon they were kissing, hot open-mouthed kisses, while Snape's long fingered, talented hands manipulated both his and Harry's bare cocks. "Oh yes, yessssss," Harry moaned between kisses. "Oh please, please ..."

The pumpkin regarded them blandly from its shelf.

Harry shook uncontrollably. He'd never felt like this before. He clutched at Snape's hands. Snape was licking the very tip of Harry's tongue in between hot, crude whispering, calling Harry a slut, saying what he'd like to do to him. Harry was loving every minute of it. But of course it wasn't his fault, Snape had drugged him, that was why he was feeling so sexy, so ABANDONED.

"I'm going to come!" Harry shouted suddenly, and did. He collapsed against Snape, who slowly milked every last drop out of him, accompanied by hot passionate kisses. Then he pushed Harry to his knees and held his face against his own stiff, throbbing cock. "Finish me off, boy," he commanded hoarsely. Harry opened red, swollen lips and sucked Snape's cock into his mouth, gazing up at him with wide, unfocussed green eyes. The sight was too much: Snape came instantly into his mouth, then held Harry firmly by the hair while he swallowed.

At last he relaxed his grip, and let the boy cling to him, murmuring abjectly in surrender. The pumpkin leered sardonically down at them.

"Of course it wasn't my fault," Harry said eventually. "That stuff you put on my hand -"

"Oh, it doesn't really have aphrodisiac qualities," Snape said, his black eyes glittering with malice. "I just said that to free you from your ... inhibitions. With remarkable success, I must say," and he breathed hotly and suggestively into Harry's ear.

Harry pulled away, feeling torn. Part of him was furiously resentful at being tricked, but another part was roaring with triumph at what had just happened. "Well, I s'ppose I'd better get back before anyone wonders where I am," he muttered, and walked slowly towards the door.

"One moment!"

Harry turned.

"I haven't decided on your punishment for this yet," Snape said, gesturing towards the pumpkin. It sneered at him. "Ah yes, I have it ..." He tapped his wand on the back of Harry's hand. "Very, ah, suitable."

Harry stared at his hand in horror. The letters on the back now spelled: I love Severus Snape.

He walked away from the dungeon, his thoughts whirling. Behind him, Snape smirked to himself. He saw no need to inform the boy that this writing was only visible to the two of them ...

THE END

A/N Happy Hallowe'en, everyone!