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She was driving him mad, flipping that hair of hers around like that. She must know what she was doing to him, she must.

Horace Slughorn sat back in his rather more comfortable than usual office chair, trying to decide whether to get up and walk to his room already, or if he should do a bit more work first. It wasn’t work ethic that kept him in the chair, he knew--it was merely inertia, and the prospect of heaving his considerable bulk onto his sore feet after a long day of teaching.

And of Lily.

Slughorn groaned at the thought, and used the momentum to grasp the edge of the desk and lever himself out of the chair. The parchment on his desk could wait to be graded until the morning, of course, and a soft featherbed and bottle of mead sounded like a far more pleasing prospect than staring at juvenile handwriting until another candle burned down.

The bed was just as soft as ever, he thought with a relieved sigh as he sank down on top of the down coverlet. Half an hour later, a quick snack and glass of mead polished off, Slughorn lazily Accio’d a Playwizard magazine from his bedside table and opened to his favorite page.

The magazine was more than a year old--odd, for a monthly subscriber to keep out-of-date witches around, even in that form. There were reasons that Slughorn kept this one close to hand, reasons that caused him to eagerly flip (as always) to page thirty-four.

“Happy to see me, I see,” the redheaded witch told him with a slight giggle.

“Always,” he breathed to the page he had enchanted months ago. She was still clothed at the moment, albeit in a tight-fitting and high-cut version of Hogwarts school robes. He wasn’t breaking any laws, or even rules, he reasoned with himself. He doubted that Albus would have approved, but Albus was safe up in his Headmaster’s office. He didn’t have to deal with the students every day, didn’t have to lean over to look at their cauldrons, sometimes lean right over their shoulders.

“You want it fast, or slow?” the girl he had named Lily asked flirtatiously, just as she did every night he opened to this page.

Slughorn thought for a moment, then decided, “Slow. I want to savor this.”

Despite the fact that there was never a difference in the ritual, Slughorn’s eyes were always glued to the page. He knew in advance that she would take off her top, then her skirt, followed by her undergarments, then unpin her hair, then start to touch herself, finishing by sticking her wand all the way inside her tight cunt. There had originally been a wizard involved, but Slughorn had stuck a freezing charm on that part of the magazine ages ago. He didn’t want to see any other man breaching that tight entrance. This way he could pretend that she was still...fresh. The fact that it was the same every time didn’t make it any less exciting for the corpulent man, who still felt as if his chest were caught in a vice every time he opened to this page.

His cock came free early as he tugged it out through his robes, forgoing nudity for the feeling of perversion that this act always sent tingling through his body. As a strap slid slowly, torturously slowly, off the young witch’s shoulder to her apparent (and affected) surprise, the Potions Master wrapped a hand around himself. “Yes,” he hissed, though she didn’t react or respond. There were only a few words that she would “hear” from him after their initial greeting; “faster,” “slower,” “harder,” and “turn over” were among them. Everything else that escaped his mouth only made him feel better.

The first glimpse of a pert nipple made him growl, and there fantasy took over. The witch’s features seemed to blur in his mind, then resolve into those of Lily Evans, the student who always made such a fool of him in every class, though little she knew it. He felt a fool every time he caught sight of a hint of cleavage. He felt a fool every time he hardened within his robes at the sight of her long red hair. He felt three times the fool when he had shown his class Amortensia, and been mortally glad that no one else could smell what he did in the cauldron.

“Lily” had her hands cupped demurely over her breasts now, and Slughorn was glad she wouldn’t respond to his muttered order, “Come on, show me your tits. Do it, girl.” He liked it better if he could pretend she was torturing him on purpose.

When the top was off and her hands slid down to unfasten her skirt, Slughorn almost wanted it to stay on this time. He would come up behind the real Lily in Potions, he thought with a sigh, and push her over her own cauldron. He would take her there, regardless of her squeals of outrage and protest, forcing her legs apart and guiding his cock right to her cunt, then brutally forcing it into the tight young girl without mercy. Yes, with everyone else in the class watching, he would take the little Mud--Muggleborn, he corrected himself hastily, still trying to break free of old habits--right in the middle of the lesson. He hoped James Potter would be watching. Hell, he hoped James Potter would be crying, the arrogant little prat. Talented the boy might be, but he certainly wasn’t good enough to touch his Lily.

The girl on the page was kneeling now, knees apart, one hand busy rubbing her clit, the other pinching her own nipples. Slughorn imagined Lily like that right here in his chambers. She would be spread out and waiting for him, on her knees next to his bed. He would force his cock between her pretty pink lips and---no, she would want it, he wouldn’t need to force her. She would be frigging herself silly as she sucked him dry, moaning and looking up at him with desperation in those green eyes that haunted his dreams.

The girl on the page was moaning. Slughorn took advantage of one of his commands: “Louder.” It came out in a growl as he fisted his cock faster, imagining the pretty redhead screaming for it--or screaming for it to stop, he still wasn’t sure which he preferred. Either way, she would be screaming, just as the slut in the magazine was screaming as she forced her wand tip up between her legs.

It was late, and students should be in bed. Lily was probably splayed out on her four-poster bed at that very moment, fucking herself stupid with her own wand. Slughorn mentally changed the bedspread to silver and green instead of red and gold, hardly noticing the change. She would be thrusting down, desperate to be filled. Oh, but he would fill her...

In his mind, Slughorn stole into her room, cast Deep Sleep charms on the superfluous girls in the room, and mounted the thrashing Lily with a triumphant cry. Her eyes snapped open in shock and surprise, but her legs spread even wider. “It’s too big,” she pleaded as her beautiful green eyes filled with tears. “You’ll like it,” he promised, then proceeded to fuck her into the mattress as she wailed in pleasure and pain.

Thick ropes of white fluid shot across the face of the model who was still quivering, still on her knees with a wand jammed up her cunt, and hit the page with a soft splattering sound. This was the Potions Master’s least favorite part of the evening. He despised wiping his own seed from the pages, despised tucking the magazine neatly away, despised flicking his wand at the lamps.

There should be someone to do all of this for him, he was certain. Someone to suck his cock, someone to clean up after him, someone to attend to his needs. Someone like Lily Evans.

Of course, he thought ruefully as he turned over on his bed, what he liked most about the little witch is that she would never do any such thing.

His last thought before drifting off to sleep was that he should enchant the witch in the magazine to scream “Professor!” when she came.

Will be continued if there is ANY interest.