* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry's last night at Hogwarts was the night his life changed forever.

Traditionally, the seventh years were invited to stay an extra night at school, because there was a special feast just for them and the staff. It often ran late into the night, and as they were now considered adults, they could make their own way home the next day.

The lower-year students had been packed off home and the traditional celebration had begun. Wine and butterbeer flowed freely. All the staff and ex-students sat around one long table in the center of the hall. Harry sat near one end, with Professor Dumbledore on one side and Ron and Hermione on the other. Ron was making eyes at Hermione and Hermione was more drunk than Harry had ever seen her. Harry had never really liked to drink much, so he was just tipsy, enjoying looking around, watching everyone. Dumbledore and McGonagall were listening avidly to Hagrid relating a long, complicated story. Ron was laughing at something Hermione was saying. Professor Flitwick was entertaining Dean and Seamus by levitating cutlery. His eyes strayed down the table. Professor Snape was sat nearly directly across the table from Harry, and had spent most of the evening glowering around at everyone. He clearly didn't want to be there, but had obviously been told he had to attend. Harry had been surprised to see him there at all. He seemed intent on not enjoying himself, but he had been sampling the wine quite steadily. As Harry's eyes traveled past the Potions master, he noticed with a start that Snape's face was flushed, and the man's piecing dark eyes were fixed directly on Harry himself. He immediately blushed in answer, but held the gaze steadily. Snape couldn't do anything to him now, he had already finished with top marks. But of course, he really did want the dark-haired man to do something to him, had secretly lusted after the man all year, and he felt the stirring of arousal as he and Snape stared at each other. Harry licked his lips, and watched in amazement as those dark eyes flicked downward to his mouth, then flashed momentarily with what might have been lust. It couldn't be true. He searched Snape's face and found only his customary sneer. Harry decided he was seeing things, and took another sip of wine.

But the next time his eyes strayed to Snape, those eyes were studying him once again. Harry felt himself blush again, involuntarily. More blood rushed to his cock and he found himself fascinated by the man's mouth, and then his mind helpfully supplied him with images of his arousal disappearing into that mouth. He hardened more, and now he could think of little else. He was thankful that everyone around him was involved in conversation that he didn't have to be a part of, because he couldn't think of anything to say except how incredibly sexy Severus Snape was right now, and how much he wanted the man to pin him down and fuck him. He knew he was staring now, but so was Snape and he couldn't help himself. They sat like that, looking intently at each other, not saying a word, Harry biting his lip and shifting in his seat because he was so hard. Snape still looked flushed, and a small smirk played about those cruel lips.

If Harry was honest with himself, he would admit that he'd been fascinated with Snape from the very first. The man's dark, forbidding aura in fact masked a man who fought for good, though he clearly disliked anyone knowing that. He'd been making Harry's life miserable in class for years, while saving the boy's neck against Voldemort. In the past two years, Harry's fascination had changed to something else, as he became more aware of his body and his preferences. Snape was nowhere near handsome, but the man was powerful and unattainable and fuck if he didn't make Harry hard with that silky voice of his.

Finally Harry decided he couldn't stand it any more; if Snape kept looking at him like that, he was going to do something to embarrass himself. He pushed his chair back, muttering to Ron about having to use the loo, and was never more thankful for his loose robes as he stood up. Snape's dark eyes followed him; Harry fancied he could feel them burning into him. He made it to the toilet without incident. Unfortunately he had to stand there a long time before he could relieve himself; his thoughts about Snape had made him too hard. Finally he managed it, and emerged from the toilet into the hallway, wondering if he could face Snape again.

He didn't have to wonder.

He shut the door behind him, and turned to walk back to the dining hall.

And ran into Snape himself. Literally.

Harry was thrown off balance, running into the larger man in mid- step, and as if in slow motion he knew he was going to fall back, on his ass. He tried to step back, expecting a sharp rebuke from Snape and a sharp pain from the stone floor. What he didn't expect was strong arms around him, pulling him against a warm solid body. Harry looked up in shock at Snape's face and didn't see the expected sneer. There was look of... Harry would have called it need, or passion, on anyone else, but this was Snape. Who hated him. But oh god it felt good to be in the man's arms...

"Mr. Potter," purred that sensuous voice, "Have you forgotten how to walk now that you're a real wizard?" The words had the customary sting but the low, intimate tone belied the insult.

"I..." Harry stammered, unconsciously grabbing handfuls of the man's thick robes to steady himself; surely Snape would let go of him any second, and he still felt unbalanced.

But for some reason, Snape didn't let go, and as Harry stared up into those dark eyes, he realized he was rock hard again. And his erection was pressed directly against his former professor's thigh. He froze.

"I see you've also forgotten how to talk," murmured Snape, raising an eyebrow as he shifted his leg against Harry. "But fortunately your body seems to speak much more eloquently than you."

A small moan escaped his lips as Snape slowly, deliberately, rubbed his thigh against Harry's erection. This wasn't, couldn't be happening. "Professor..."

A small intake of breath, and Snape's composure slipped just a little. "I thought you were deliberately teasing me this last year, with your big green eyes and that tight little body," murmured Snape, and Harry got even harder at the sound of those words from his reserved teacher. "But maybe you weren't..." He pulled Harry even tighter against him, and now he could feel Snape's arousal.

Harry finally found his voice. "I... wanted you. Pretty much all year. You..." He let the statement trail off, trying to reconcile his seven-year mental image of Snape with the aroused, sensual man holding him.

"Yes," growled Snape, letting his hand wander lower, just to Harry's waist, just at the top of the curve of his ass. "I lusted after a student. I lusted after you. The famous Harry Potter. Will you report me to the headmaster?"

Harry whimpered. He wanted to feel Snape's hands all over him. He shook his head. "Why didn't you..."

"Why didn't I say anything to you? Seduce you?" Snape snorted. "First, I would never touch a student. Even one as delectable as you, Mr. Potter." He let his hand slide lower, gently exploring the curve of his ass. "And of course I had no idea if you even liked men, let alone me." He spread his fingers out and grabbed a handful of Harry's buttock, squeezing and pulling Harry even closer. "You have no idea of the torture you put me through. The fact that it was unintentional doesn't change the number of times I fantasized about you."

Harry moaned from a combination of Snape's hands and the idea of the man pleasuring himself while thinking about him. "Well, I'm not your student any more. And I do fancy the hell out of you. What do you propose we do about it?"

Abruptly, Snape reached down and grabbed Harry's ass with his other hand as well, lifting him up and shoving him against the wall. Harry had grown some, but he would always be slim, and Snape was larger and stronger than he was. Harry's breath caught from the roughness of the action and the feel of Snape's erection against his own. Snape held him against the wall with his hips while his hands roamed all over Harry. Harry moaned, feeling thoroughly wanton and more turned on than he'd been for a long time.

Snape rocked against him, pleasure shooting through Harry from the friction of all the clothes between them. The other man's face was an inch from his, and Harry was close to climax just from the intensity of Snape's lust for him. Harry's moan was cut off by a savage kiss, and he held desperately to the larger man's shoulders as he parted his lips to Snape's questing tongue.

It was a hard, fast, brutal kiss; Harry felt almost savaged by Snape's mouth and he loved every second of it. At least a year of pent-up need was exploding, right here, right now. Snape's hands found their way under his robes and shirt, touching every inch of skin they could reach. Harry was overwhelmed and swept away, his trapped cock throbbing. When Snape finally pulled back, they were both panting. Harry was still stunned by the other man's passion. "Snape..." he moaned. The older man still rocked, driving all reason from Harry's mind.

"Shall we," purred Snape, voice thick with desire, "Move to some place more appropriate?" Harry nodded, and then moaned when Snape added, "Though what I want to do to your sweet, tight little body is by no means appropriate, Harry."

"Let's go. Anywhere," panted Harry. Snape grinned and lowered him gently to the floor but kept him in contact with his body.

It was the longest walk of Harry's life; he never knew that the dungeons were so far away. Snape kept an arm around Harry's waist, pulling him close against him, never breaking contact. They had to stop several times for more kisses, pressed against the wall or in an alcove. Snape kept him on the knife edge of extreme arousal. By the time the door to Snape's rooms swung open to a spell, Harry was panting with need. As soon as the door was shut securely, Harry launched himself at the older man, molding himself to Snape's body as closely as possible, their mouths joining in another savage kiss. Snape's hands moved over him roughly. Harry could tell the professor wouldn't be a tender lover but that didn't surprise him in the least. Right now, he wanted it hard and rough and fast. Snape pulled back, muttered a spell; Harry's clothes slithered to the ground and suddenly he was naked in the other man's arms. He moaned as now Snape's hands were all over his bare skin. Snape lifted him again, and Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, and he was carried into the man's bedroom. He clung to Snape's shoulders again, almost driven mad by the friction of the robes against him.

Snape lowered Harry to the bed, kissing him as he did so, keeping their erections in contact. Harry whimpered as the older man pulled back, but smiled as he watched Snape start to unbutton his robes. He watched as the older man undressed methodically, slowly, teasing him. Harry moaned and ran his hand down his stomach, wrapping his hand around his arousal, spreading his legs slightly. He stroked his hard length, and his mouth opened as he moaned. "Hurry," he moaned, and Snape looked at him with hungry eyes.

Then the older man was naked, and Harry just stared at the long, lean body. Snape's skin was parchment pale and scarred in several places. His muscles were firm and though he was slim, he wasn't skinny. His chest was hairless, but a trail of hair, as coal black as that on his head, started just below his navel and led downward to the focus of Harry's attention. Snape's erection looked huge from this angle, and he licked his lips, eager to feel it. He raised his eyes to Snape's, and the man smirked at him as he climbed onto the bed, crawling toward him. "No, no," he purred, straddling Harry's body as he approached. He took the boy's hand off his cock, moving up and pinning it to the bed above his head.

Harry whimpered and arched up as Snape captured his other hand as well, putting it with the first and pinning both hands with his one larger one. Harry moaned now; this was something he'd always wanted but never told anyone about. He struggled briefly, not because he wanted to be free but he wanted to feel captured. Snape tightened his grip, pinning him with his body as well, and murmured, "No touching unless I say so."

Harry nodded and gasped, "You're so sexy, I love this," and Snape smiled.

"Some day we'll have to explore some of the naughty fantasies both of us no doubt have had," he said. "But, now, I want to be inside you, Harry, and I don't think I can wait any longer." Harry moaned and arched against him, and Snape continued, "Do you want that?"

"Yes, please," Harry moaned, and watched eagerly as Snape summoned a jar of something to him. Still pinning Harry's hands with one of his own, the older man started to prepare Harry. Soon the boy was writing underneath the Potions master, begging him to hurry.

"Still so impertinent, Mr. Potter," admonished Snape as he stimulated Harry's prostate, making the boy nearly scream. "I should have known that your penchant for misbehaviour would extend to every aspect of your life."

"I should have known your penchant for cruelty would extend to sex as well," shot back Harry, breathlessly. "Come on, fuck me, I know you're aching to."

"Aching," Snape purred, finally removing his fingers and coating his cock with lubricant, "Is precisely what you will be when I am finished with you."

"Promises, promises," moaned Harry as the older man pressed the head of his arousal against his opening, still teasing. He was already close to climax; who knew Snape would be such an incredible lover? "Just do me."

Snape smirked as he looked down at Harry, hooking one of the boy's long lean legs over his shoulder. "So impolite," he admonished. "Did no one teach you proper manners? Say please when you ask to be fucked, *Mr.* Potter." He pressed forward, still not entering.

Harry whimpered. He had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Snape to take him right now, hard. He knew then that he would have done anything, said anything that Snape wanted him to, just to feel that hard cock inside him. "Please," he gasped, the pressure on his entrance driving him insane. "Please fuck me, Professor."

Harry had added the man's title because he was nearly mad with desire, and he'd had a dream very nearly like this once. But Harry calling Snape Professor while spread out in front of him like this very obviously had its own effect that even the Potions master was not immune to. Harry was gratified to hear the older man moan and his expression darken with lust. Snape growled and relented, pushing just hard enough to breach Harry's tight channel. Harry cried out, watching as Snape's mouth dropped open and his head fell back. He had never seen the repressed teacher like this, had never imagined how incredibly sexy the man would look in the throes of passion. Well, he had imagined, but the reality was much better.

Snape's brow furrowed in concentration, obviously trying to go slow and not hurt Harry as he entered him. "God, you're so tight," groaned Snape, voice even sexier than before. "I don't want to hurt you..."

Harry struggled to speak. "You're not. It's perfect," he assured Snape, lifting his other leg onto the man's shoulder as well. "Give me more. Please."

Snape leaned forward as he drove in deeper, holding on to Harry's thighs. "Since you asked so nicely..." He continued to push, sliding the rest of the way inside Harry in one long stroke. He paused then, breathing hard, watching Harry. He spoke with obvious effort. "Tell me. If I'm hurting you."

Harry took big gulps of air, trying to make his body relax. Snape was much bigger than the few lovers he'd had; they had been just boys. Snape was a man. But it felt so good; Snape filled him perfectly. He wiggled and the older man gasped. He decided he really liked Snape much better this way. "Please. Move," he begged. He wanted to be pounded, hard.

A very sexy smirk crossed the professor's face as he pulled back a few inches, very slowly. "See, I knew you could be polite if you really wanted something badly enough," he murmured, then pushed back in, a bit faster.

Harry whimpered. "More, please..." he trailed off, not knowing what to call his new lover, and settled for being naughty. "Professor, please fuck me hard..."

Snape had just pulled out a bit farther, and when Harry spoke those words, he moaned and in his lust, drove back in a bit harder than he had intended. "Mr. Potter," he growled, panting. "Finally I get to give you what you deserve after all those years of provoking me."

Harry was quickly losing all control. He reached up with one hand and trailed it down Snape's chest. "Yes, please, Professor, punish me, give me what I *deserve*," he moaned.

"Oh, I fully intend to," promised Snape, snapping his hips and driving deep inside Harry once again. He was building up a rhythm, going faster and deeper each time.

Soon Harry could only moan and gasp; words were beyond him. He looked up in awe at his former professor; he had fantasized about him, but never had he imagined this much. Snape, so in control, so reserved; now, the man was an animal, lip curled in a sensual snarl as he claimed Harry. His long black hair hung in his face, and his coal black eyes burned with need. The deep, sexy voice poured over him, and Harry was lost. With each stroke Snape drove him higher, and Harry loved it.

When Snape reached between them and wrapped his long fingers around Harry's cock, it was too much for the teenager. He screamed loud enough to wake the dead, and before the man had stroked him twice he was climaxing harder than he ever had in his life. His body jerked and pulsed as Snape continued to pound him, and he clutched at the man's biceps as he rode it out.

Just as Harry's climax finished, Snape's began, and Harry panted as he watched. Snape growled, and tensed, and stiffened as he filled Harry with hot seed. If Harry hadn't just climaxed, watching Snape would have sent him over the edge for certain. Snape, giving in to lust; even if they never did this again, Harry knew he would never forget it.

They never made it back to the banquet that night.