Pearly. Pathetic.

“You are pathetic Potter.”

Harry looked up from the cauldron he was cleaning. Hate coursed through his veins as he looked into the eyes of Severus Snape. Black, cold nothingness stared back. Harry despised these eyes. He despised everything about the man towering above him. Eyes that hardly ever showed emotion, body like that of a statue, mouth smirking after the scathing remark. Harry wanted to say something, anything that would hurt the man. Anything that would get a reaction that he had never seen before. He had seen Snape pissed off. In pain. Scared. But these emotions were always fleeting and few and far in between when they did show themselves.

“Maybe more so than your damn father.” Harry went into a rage.

A sickening crack echoed in the dungeon classroom. Snape was on the floor before his senses had registered what had happened. Harry had sent the Potions Master flying across the room and into the wall. Snape instinctively reached for his wand but it wasn’t in his robes pocket. Snape felt the back of his head which had collided with the wall. Blood. Harry smirked. Harry was going to bleed the emotions from his Professor.

Harry strode across the classroom to the still slightly disoriented Snape. When Snape saw his own wand pointed in his face all bewilderment left him. His mouth twitched at the corners in amusement.

“What do you think you’re doing Potter?” the Potions Master said in a voice barely audible.

For a moment Harry asked himself that same question. This was SNAPE. A teacher. His most-hated teacher. Any second Snape was going to wordlessly summon his wand and Harry would be dead. Just like his father. Or maybe Snape would torture him. Snape’s obsidian eyes met his and Harry saw a flicker of emotion. It was there and then it was gone. Unreadable. This impassiveness put all thoughts of nearing death out of Harry’s mind.

Snape still hadn’t gotten to his feet. He lay against the wall where he had landed. A concussion? Harry got to his knees in front of the man driven by a made urge to…to what? On an impulse Harry threw both his and Snape’s wands out of distance. Snape raised his eyebrows slightly at this. No, not a concussion.

Harry tentatively reached out a hand and touched the side of Snape’s surprisingly warm face. So there was blood running through those veins after all. Snape’s black eyes mesmerized him. Before he knew it Harry was mere inches away from Snape’s face. Snape’s lips were pursed. Was it he or Harry who closed the distance? Their lips touched in a light caress. Harry let out a moan when Snape opened his mouth. Harry delved his tongue into the hot, wet heat.

Snape’s tongue battled his, slithering like a snake. After only a few moments Harry cried out as his lip was bitten. Hard. A great force propelled Harry backwards. Harry found himself all the way on the other side of the classroom. Looking up Harry saw Snape standing over him, wand pointed down at him. Snape had blood on his lips. Harry’s blood. Harry felt a tale tell trickle on his chin and then down his neck.

Snape smirked and licked the blood off his lips. Harry’s cock twitched at this. Snape laughed silkily. Harry looked up at him pleadingly. Please, don’t hex me into next week? Or please fuck me? Snape returned the look with one of malice.

“Snape…” Harry ventured. Snape cut him off.

“Potter, for the last time I am Professor Snape.” Harry nodded.

“Get up. Get out of my sight.” Snape hissed. Harry got up unsteadily. Snape saw the obvious erection that Harry sported.

“Is that for me?” Snape asked, amused.

When Harry didn’t answer Snape pressed his black clad body up against the boy. With a sharp twist of his pelvis Harry moaned like a whore. Snape backed away just then and spelled open the door. With a long finger Snape pointed to the doorway. A clear indication for Harry to leave. But the boy didn’t budge. Harry’s breathing was heavy.

“Do I have to escort you out of my classroom?” With that Snape raised his ebony wand.

“No! I was just leaving.” Harry said holding up his hands.

Snape lowered his wand. Harry turned and walked toward the door. His body hurt from crashing into the wall. Especially his ass which he so gracefully landed on. He wished his ass hurt for entirely different reasons. Just as he reached the door a pair of pale hands swiveled him around. Harry’s heart leapt then sank. Snape held Harry’s wand that he had so carelessly thrown. Harry took the wand from Snape’s hand letting a shameful sigh escape when Snape’s skin came in contact with his own.

“You are truly pathetic Potter. And Potter, never again use a spell against me. Ever. 50 points from Gryffindor.”

Harry left the room and made his way through the dungeons with an uncomfortable erection and a thought. Snape’s cock was not flaccid when pressed up against him. Finding the nearest bathroom Harry wanked furiously finally coming with a whispered name, spraying the toilet stall. The fluid dripped onto the floor. Pearly. Pathetic.