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It was only a few days before the start of term, and Harry was feeling restless at Grimmauld Place. Yes, it had been nice at first to spend time with Sirius, but even that was losing some of its lustre. His godfather was often quite restless himself. And irritable.

His friends were spending the last few days before school with their parents, so Harry was left to his own devices. He didn't consider himself someone who really looked for trouble, but he was bored, and one of Fred and George's handy listening devices was close at hand when he heard voices behind a locked door.

He carefully reeled the device through the keyhole, and leaned close to listen. It sounded like Professor Snape and the Headmaster.

"Are you absolutely certain you are doing the right thing, Albus?" Snape was demanding in his usual deep but sneering tones.

"Severus," came the headmaster's voice. "You know I cannot divulge..."

Snape made an impatient sound and interrupted silkily, "Of course, sir. Forgive me for asking." He turned toward the door before being dismissed, opening it quickly before Dumbledore said some other soothing thing.

Harry had barely heard Snape's footsteps coming towards the door before it was yanked open. He scrambled backwards on the floor, listening device yanked painfully out of his ear, but thankfully still stuck in the door where Snape couldn't see it. He looked up at him, big green eyes full of surprise and hasty contrition.

Snape's eyes narrowed at the sight before him. After a moment's consideration, he stepped through the door without another word, closing it behind him. He stood still, looking down, and purred, "Do you enjoy sitting on the floor, Potter?" He had to admit he liked having the boy at a disadvantage.

Harry blinked. He'd been thoroughly caught. "Why yes, Professor Snape. It's quite comfortable down here. You ought to try it some time." Well, he wasn't in school yet, and he was taking a gamble that Snape couldn't take points away before the actual term started.

Snape frowned. The boy was being his usual cheeky self. "Watch it, Potter. Professor McGonagall is not here to protect her precious golden Gryffindor. Anything could happen." He looked down at Potter, and a stray thought about their relative positions flitted through his head. An inappropriate one.

Harry scrambled to his feet. "You can't do anything to me. Professor Dumbledore is in the very next room," he said, his lips slowly curling into a smile.

A smirk spread across Snape's face. "Oh really?" he purred, and turned to open the door behind him. The fireplace was just settling from the disturbance of someone flooing out. The room was quite empty. "Would you like another guess?"

Harry stared at the fireplace. "Oh." And then his eyes went guiltily to the listening device still swinging from the keyhole... Right near Snape's hand.

Snape hadn't been a teacher for this many years without being able to tell a guilty look when he saw one. He followed Potter's gaze and saw the listening device. Moving like lightning, he grabbed the device and yanked it free. "I should have known," he spat, mouth set into a thin line. "Idiot boy. Do you not give a damn for your own safety? About all the plans we have in place to protect you?"

"Well, with all due respect, if it's about me, I don't see why I have to be protected from it," he said, scowling a little. He was fed up with learning things by accident.

"Well, that shows you just how little you know, then, doesn't it," Snape replied silkily. "You need to learn how to respect your elders, Potter. Something that clearly wasn't pounded into you adequately."

Harry folded his arms over his chest. He really resented the idea that his aunt and uncle hadn't been strict enough with him, considering he'd slept in a cupboard under the stairs for some years. "Is that so," he said doubtfully. "As you know very little about what was or wasn't pounded into me, I don't think you can really make that sort of statement."

"Just because we are not at Hogwarts does not mean I cannot punish you," Snape hissed, his eyes darkening with anger. The boy's impudence always enraged him. "So I suggest you watch your tongue."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You wouldn't dare," he said obstinately. "You have no authority over me when school's out. What are you going to do? Give me detention in your house?"

Snape let himself imagine for a moment what he would like to do to the boy. "You are under Hogwarts authority when you are away from your uncle's home. And I, a Head of House at Hogwarts, have complete authority to punish you any way I wish."

Harry paled. He looked around. "Sirius won't let you. He's my godfather," he said, grasping at straws. It didn't help that he had no idea where Sirius was at the moment.

Snape laughed softly, but it was not a cheerful sound. He looked around significantly. "I don't see Black intervening," he said smugly.

Harry's heart was beating hard now. He took a step back. "Wh-what... Are you going to do?" He was definitely going to tell Dumbledore about this. It wasn't right, leaving him in the hands of Snape of all people.

Snape smiled, and by experience he knew it wasn't a pleasant sight. "I daresay I shall do whatever I please," he breathed, taking a step closer to the boy. "Eavesdropping on a conversation using a proscribed magical device is a serious infraction, Potter. Not to mention speaking rudely to a professor."

Harry took another step back. "Well, you can't just do *whatever* you please, you know. I mean there are rules and stuff, aren't there? Permanent damage and that sort of thing... No unforgiveables?"

Snape's smirk grew. "Of course, no permanent damage." He knew that left a great deal of leeway, and the anticipation in the boy's mind would make it all the worse. He let himself imagine for a moment.

Harry pursed his lips. "Look, Professor Snape... I won't do it again. Couldn't we just sort of... say it didn't happen?" he doubted that would work, but maybe Snape had somewhere else to be or something.

"Oh, I think not," Snape said, clearly enjoying Harry's discomfiture. He noted the boy had even managed to use his proper title. He really must be worried. "How will you ever learn your lesson if you're not punished properly?"

Harry licked his lips. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He hated that Snape was playing this cat and mouse game with him. He hated being the mouse.

Snape, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying it. He was busy thinking up the most humiliating thing he could do to the boy. He could think of quite a few. But there was nothing like making the punished participate in their punishment. "Do you have any suggestions for an appropriate punishment?"

Harry wracked his brain. "Um... Detention after school starts?" he offered hopefully.

Snape smirked. "That's not exactly what I had in mind," he said nastily.

"Um... Scrubbing the bathrooms?" he suggested. He really didn't like the look on Snape's face.

"Much too pleasant for the likes of you," Snape said, shaking his head negatively. He waited a beat, then smiled again. "Do you know what corporal punishment is, Potter?"

"Um... No. I don't." It didn't sound very good, and Harry winced a little.

This was even better than he had imagined. With a flick of his wand, Snape locked the door. "Corporal punishment," he explained in his best lecturing voice. "Corporal comes from the Latin, corpus, meaning body." He wanted Potter to figure it out for himself. Though the boy was proving quite dim.

Harry swallowed hard. He was beginning to get the picture. He glanced at the now locked door. "So... You're going to beat me?" he asked hoarsely.

Ah, so the boy wasn't completely stupid. "No, not beat, precisely," he said silkily. "The true intent is of course, not the pain."

Harry's eyes widened. His stomach clenched. It was sounding worse by the moment. "What... is the true intent, then?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Snape took another step closer, looming over Harry. His voice lowered to its most deliberate, and enunciated, "Humiliation."

"No," Harry said impulsively. The idea the Snape was going to humiliate him was beyond bearing. His wand hand twitched, and for a moment he wondered if it would be worth being expelled over.

"No?" Snape repeated quietly. "I don't believe you have any say in the matter, Mr. Potter." He was enjoying this far too much, he knew. But he couldn't back down now.

"Please don't," he said, knowing it was pointless to appeal to his hated Potions master. He was trembling a little, and he knew whatever was coming would just have to be gotten through.

"Perhaps you should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you broke the rules," Snape hissed. The way Harry said 'please' was a little too appealing.

Harry looked down, appearing contrite. "Fine," he said tightly. His hands curled into fists, and he resigned himself to waiting for whatever it was Snape was going to torture him with.

"That's better," Snape answered. He couldn't believe he was actually considering this, but it was entirely within his authority. Corporal punishment was quite accepted in the wizarding world, though Dumbledore didn't use it himself. "Now. Go bend over the desk, pull up your robes and drop your trousers." He waited for the impact of that order to sink in.

Harry looked up sharply and gaped at him, his mouth hanging open for a moment. "What??!? W-what did you say?" He couldn't have heard that right. His face was suddenly on fire and his heart was beating like a drum. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he *had* heard him correctly, and that was what Snape had meant by 'humiliation'.

"I believe I spoke quite clearly, Mr. Potter. I am not given to mumbling, or repeating myself. Do as you were told." The look on the boy's face was almost enough triumph in and of itself. This evening was turning out better than he had imagined.

Harry felt ill. He moved towards the desk woodenly. He felt like someone was forcing him, even though he wasn't being forced. He pulled his robes up and bent over, hoping beyond hope that Snape would ignore the fact that he wasn't doing the last part of his instructions.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said smoothly, not moving from his spot but enjoying himself immensely. "I do not believe you have followed my instructions completely. Little wonder you are such an appalling Potions student."

Harry's head thunked loudly against the desktop and he winced as he reached for his belt. He unbuckled it and opened his trousers, his fingers shaking with rage. Then he let them and his shorts fall, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt a cool breeze on his bare ass, and he ground his teeth, cursing Snape silently.

Snape's breath caught silently as Potter submitted to his will at last. The fact that the boy was resisting with all his might made it all the sweeter. He let the silence stretch, knowing that this moment would be the worst of all, more so than any pain he could inflict. Just standing there, completely exposed to Snape, defenceless, his smooth skin over firm buttocks bared to his view... Snape realised with a start that he was staring, and that Harry Potter had an incredible arse. He felt a familiar tightening in his lower stomach that he tried desperately to stave off. He couldn't help his preferences.

Harry realized he was panting as if the act of dropping his trousers was a great exertion. He knew Snape was dragging it out on purpose, and he bit his lip to stop from begging him to get on with it. He also realised, much to his horror, that the idea of Snape ogling him was stirring parts of his body that shouldn't be stirring.

Snape finally stepped closer, and when he spoke his voice was a rough purr. "Much better," he said, his eyes drawn inexorably to the cleft of the boy's lily white arse. If he looked closely, he could see more, just the shadow of his balls between his slightly spread legs. He chided himself; if he didn't start focusing, he was going to become painfully hard. He was already halfway there.

Harry wanted to die right then and there. Snape's voice had always sent a reluctant shiver through him at the best of times. Now it sounded downright pornographic. He felt a definite pulse in the base of his cock which was rising by the moment. "Please," he croaked. "Can we... move along with this?" he asked, trying to sound as meek and undemanding as he possibly could.

"I don't believe you have any say at all in the matter," Snape replied, coming to stand just behind the boy. He knew that anticipation and humiliation were the most important parts of this punishment, and luckily he was enjoying both of those. A little too much. Luckily, his long robes concealed that fact. His pulse was racing a little at the thought that he was going to *touch* that lovely arse.

Harry turned his head to rest his cheek against the desk, scowling deeply. He took a deep breath and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Right," he whispered. Humiliation no longer seemed a large enough word to encompass what he was enduring. He was naked from the waist down, his arse exposed completely, and he was half-bloody-hard for *Snape*, of all people. He'd started to become aware that there was something definitely different between him and the other boys at school, but he'd kept it to himself. He hadn't realized, though, the depth of his attraction to someone he genuinely loathed.

Snape knew he could transfigure any number of devices with which to punish the boy, but he didn't *really* want to hurt him. So he would use his hand. And enjoy it. His breathing quickened a little as he moved to the side, in position as it were. "Do brace yourself, Potter," he purred, before raising his hand and bringing it down firmly, right in the center of his buttocks. He had only an instant to enjoy the smooth skin under his hand, but it was delicious.

It really hardly hurt. It was nothing, really. But Harry let out a helpless whimper nonetheless. He prayed silently that Snape wouldn't be able to discern the nature of that whimper, but as Snape's hand contacted with his arse, his now fully hard cock was pressed between his own body and the desk.

That whimper, regardless of its cause, sent a jolt of lust through Snape. Now he was completely aroused, and there was no way he could *not* look at Potter in a sexual way. Luckily the boy had no clue; he'd be disgusted. He spanked him again, twice in succession, wishing fervently that he could touch more.

The worst humiliation, that Harry hoped Snape couldn't possibly tell, was that the slight sting of his hand connecting with Harry's skin, the glow of warmth that followed, actually felt... nice. Great. He was a queer *and* a pervert. It wasn't bad enough that he was getting wood over a nasty, greasy old man. Now he actually wanted to feel another sharp slap. Another blow forced a moan from his lips before he could stop himself.

Snape applied another blow, and frowned a little. Potter's moans seemed a little... suspicious in nature. He wasn't striking all that hard, and he wouldn't think that even if he'd been in pain, Potter would want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it... He spanked again, his fingers 'accidentally' brushing into the cleft, torturing himself.

Harry hid his face in his arms stretched out on the desk beneath him. He was starting to sweat now. Was Snape actually *intending* to molest him? Because another like that and he was going to start humping the furniture. As it was, he had to shift his feet a little, and just happened to plant them a fraction farther apart than they had been, exposing himself even more.

Snape very nearly whimpered himself now, barely holding back. He cursed himself as several kinds of pervert, getting off on this, but he hadn't gone into it with the intention of these results. Damn Potter for having the nicest arse he'd ever seen. He spanked again, harder, listening closely to drink in the lovely sounds the boy made.

Harry stretched his head up, eyes tightly closed, and gasped at the blow. It was too much to bear and before he could stop himself, his hips ground against the desk, just a little, and he let out another strangled little moan. "Am I supposed to count or something?" he croaked, unable to silence his rebellious tongue.

Snape felt a stab of annoyance at Potter's comment, just as he noticed the slight movement of his hips. Could it be...? His heart raced at that thought, and he kept his voice even through extreme effort. "That won't be necessary," he whispered, licking his suddenly dry lips. Then he added, abruptly, "Stand up, Potter, and face me." He had to know.

Harry's eyes snapped open again. Now he really did feel sick. Being hard for Snape was one thing, but Snape knowing about it... He would have preferred to have heard Voldemort striding into the room and striking him dead on the spot. He straightened up slowly, bracing his hands on the desk. He stared blankly at a spot on the opposite wall, and swallowed hard. No amount of wishing would make his erection go away. He took a deep, trembling breath and turned towards the professor. He couldn't meet his eyes.

Snape looked at Potter's face, then let his eyes travel downward, inexorably. And when he saw the boy's unmistakable erection, he almost thought he was seeing things. But it was as he'd half expected. The boy was hard. Beautifully so. If not for him, for what he'd been doing to him. His own arousal grew impossibly harder. "Mr. Potter," he purred, forcing his eyes up to his face again. "I don't believe this punishment is as effective as I'd hoped."

Harry raised his eyes and glared at him. "I think I'm about as humiliated as you could possibly make me, Professor Snape." His cheeks were glowingly pink and he curled his hands into fists at his sides.

Potter's infuriating manner still hadn't escaped him completely. "I wouldn't call that," he breathed, eyes flicking down to Harry's undiminished arousal, "Humiliated." Harry was quite well-endowed for a boy of his age, in fact. "You liked it," he pointed out accusingly.

Harry's heart was thudding in his chest. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "And that's plenty humiliating," he said, his full lips forming a pout. Was Snape just going to stand there ogling him forever? "Can I put my trousers back on now, Professor?" he asked weakly, still pouting.

"Oh, no," Snape smirked, shaking his head. "I think this matter is *far* from resolved." He stepped closer, relishing how exposed the boy was with his trousers around his ankles. "I suppose you'd like it if I spanked you more, then?" he asked. Surely it was the action and not the person doing it that aroused Potter; Snape could live with that.

Harry gasped. He looked up at Snape, who still towered over him even though he'd grown three inches over the summer. "Did you enjoy it, too, then?" he whispered, licking his lips. Surely if Snape was offering to do it again he must be a little aroused, as well. Suddenly Harry was desperate to know.

"That is immaterial," he snapped. His desires did not come into it, because at that moment he desired nothing more than to bend Potter over the desk again and take him hard. He made a decision. "Resume your position, Mr. Potter."

Harry frowned and turned back to the desk, bending over it again. "Yes, *sir*," he ground out, putting as much displeasure into his voice as he could. His head thudded against the desk again in frustration.

Snape took a deep breath, aware he was about to take this to a new level. One not covered by his authority to punish a student. He stepped behind Harry, putting his hands on the boy's bare hips and pulling back a little, pulling him away from the desk.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "W-what... are you going to do?" he asked, in a sudden panic.

"I am going to spank you again," Snape answered, when he'd stepped back to the side of the boy. "The reason I moved you is... while I strike you, you shall touch yourself. Relieve that lovely, aching frustration." His voice had gone even deeper, dripping with sex.

That made Harry whimper, and he made no effort to hide it. "You're a twisted old so-and-so, aren't you?" he panted. "You've got to be getting off on this, too." He glanced over his shoulder at Snape. "The least you could do is admit it."

Snape smirked a little. "You may assume what you like. But I admit to nothing." He raised his hand. "Get ready," he instructed, and delivered another blow.

Harry pillowed his head on one arm and reached down his body with his other trembling hand. He yelped a little when Snape hit him, and he curled his fingers around his own cock with a moan. It felt absolutely bloody brilliant to be able to touch himself, and his irritation at Snape dissipated as he started to stroke.

Snape moaned a little himself. He was sure he'd never seen anything as erotic. He was so hard it felt like his cock would rip his trousers. He spanked again, eyes riveted to Harry's hand on his eager arousal. "How does it feel?" he whispered.

"Perfect," he murmured breathily, his eyes closed and a look of concentration on his face. His defences were down. He could hardly even think about trying to hold anything back. He licked his lips and moaned again, arching his back a little to offer up his arse even more.

Snape spanked twice more, and now the boy's backside was pink and warm. He was panting now, certain that if he so much as touched himself he'd climax in his robes. "Stand up," he said hoarsely, before he could stop himself. "I want to see everything." This was so twisted and hot that he could barely believe it was happening.

Harry whimpered and stood up. He was flushed and panting and a little dazed. He bit his lip as he looked into Snape's eyes, completely compliant now. He started to stroke himself again, gasping at how hot it was that the older man was watching him do it.

"Oh god," whispered Snape, eyes devouring the sight before him. This would provide him with fantasy material for years. "You're beautiful," he breathed, licking his lips. He badly wanted to touch, but he felt that it might be crossing a line. Not that he hadn't crossed one some time ago.

Harry whimpered. Snape thought he was beautiful? If he hadn't been so completely distracted, he would have been more shocked. He reached out to brace his hand on the desk. His knees were threatening to give out under him. He felt some sort of return of compliments was required. He swallowed and gave it a go, hoping it didn't make him sound like a prat. "Your... nnnhh... your voice... makes me... so h-hard," he rasped.

"My voice?" Snape's eyes widened. His own hand stole under his robes, pressing on his aching erection to relieve some of the pressure. "Do you want me to talk to you?" he asked, his voice strained with desire. He wanted to see Harry come.

Harry looked into his eyes and nodded dumbly. He didn't even know when the situation had changed so drastically, how they went from Snape punishing him to Snape being one smoulderingly sexy old bastard and Harry being so keen to please him he would have obeyed any request in that moment.

Snape licked his lips and began to speak. He had no idea what to say, but the words came anyway. "When you were bent over like that, Harry," he purred, using the boy's given name automatically, "And your arse was completely bared for me... I wanted so badly to spread you open, you know that? See you completely vulnerable to me... then shove my hard cock inside you, make you scream..." He was rubbing rhythmically up and down on his own erection, through his trousers.

"Oh fuck," he whispered. "T-touch me?" he asked, whimpering almost constantly. The idea that Snape wanted him like that made his cock lurch. He knew he was only going to last another minute.

The boy wanted him to touch him? Snape moaned at the thought, and he moved without even thinking about it. He stood in front of Harry, and removed the boy's hand from his own cock, replacing it with his. The feel of the hot hard flesh was incredible, and he stroked firmly and quickly. "Like this?"

Harry groaned and let his head fall forward against Snape's chest. He reached up and gripped his shoulder for balance and started thrusting into his fist. He raised his head again and looked into Snape's eyes. "God yes," he whispered, already trembling.

Harry was completely vulnerable to him right now, and to his horror Snape found he liked it. He liked the way Harry looked at him, wanted to see it again. Wanted to make him scream. He stroked faster, rubbing his thumb over the tip, feeling how close the boy was. His own need was urgent, but it faded into the background, the need to please Harry foremost.

Harry cried out, slender hips bucking uncontrollably as he started to come. He pulsed over Snape's fingers. It seemed to go on forever, and then finally he slumped against him, spent. "Bloody hell," he said softly.

Snape automatically put his other arm up to encircle the boy, surprising himself. He had no idea what to do now, but he had the urge to comfort Harry. He held him while the boy caught his breath. Just seeing Harry like this had been incredible. He'd never forget it.

Harry tipped his head back to look at Snape again, and then very hesitantly, he slipped one small hand under Snape's robes, seeking out the hard bulge he knew was lurking there. He rubbed the heel of his hand over the front of Snape's trousers, watching his reaction.

That was the last thing that Snape had been expecting. He gasped and thrust against Harry's hand before he could stop himself. He was so close, just from watching Harry and his touch, and he was going over the edge quickly.

It was an intoxicating feeling of power that swamped Harry's senses and he rubbed Snape ruthlessly, wanting to finish him off. He wanted to see the other man's face when he came.

It was embarrassingly quick, but it felt so good. Snape cried out and climaxed in his trousers like a teenager, staring into Harry's eyes, face flushed with need. It had been the best orgasm he could remember.

Harry smiled up at him, perhaps the first time he'd ever smiled at Professor Snape. He felt strangely fond feelings towards him. They'd shared something intensely personal. "Are you all right?" he asked in a whisper. It was probably a stupid question, but it popped out of his mouth without much thought.

Snape winced. "A bit sticky, but I shall be fine after a cleaning spell." He looked down at Harry. "And you?" Surely the boy was disgusted now that he'd gotten past his youthful lust.

Harry's lips twitched a little. "A little sticky, too," he said softly. He released Snape to bend down and pull up his own trousers. When he was decent again, he stuffed his hands down into his pockets. "You're right. Punishment didn't work," he said, blushing a little.

Snape licked his lips. "I... I apologise, Potter. I should not have done that." He reddened a little. "My desires got out of hand." Not that he regretted it.

Harry's expression fell. His desires got out of hand... That was all it was. "It's okay," he said softly. He felt an acute disappointment, and he looked away.

Snape looked up at the boy's tone. "I didn't mean..." He softened his voice. "I think you could tell how it affected me. I regret only abusing my authority, not touching you." It was as if the boy was a different person now; they had something in common.

Harry ran one hand through his slightly messy hair. He felt a little better about it. "Good, because I don't regret it, either," he said, quietly. He wasn't sure what else there was to say about it, though. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

"You cannot," Snape said, rearranging his robes. Not that the boy would want to advertise what he'd let Snape do to him, he surmised. "You must tell no one, not even..." He bit back what he had been about to call the Gryffindors, "Your friends."

"I won't. I understand that... Well... No one would understand." He wasn't sure he really understood it himself. All he knew was that he'd liked it. Everything about it.

Snape nodded. He wanted to add that this must never happen again. But he couldn't promise. "I can't treat you any differently," he said softly, feeling uncharacteristically mellow. As if on its own, his hand came up to rest on Potter's shoulder.

Harry laughed a little. "I wouldn't expect you to, even if you were madly in love with me," he said, smirking. He rubbed his cheek against Snape's hand. "It was really brilliant," he whispered.

"Yes, it was," Snape whispered, then for once gave into his impulses. He cupped Harry's face gently and pulled him in for their first kiss.

Harry made a quiet surprised sound, but he rested his hands on Snape's chest and kissed back. His hands slid up to hold onto his shoulders and he leaned up into it.

Snape knew this was absolutely a mistake, but he was vulnerable in his sated state. He parted his lips and slid his tongue gently into Harry's mouth. He moaned as they kissed.

Harry whimpered again, his arms tightened around his neck. He surrendered to it completely, parting his lips and stroking his tongue against the other man's. He'd never kissed anyone like this, although it seemed minor in comparison to what they'd just done. And it was lovely. That venomous tongue was clearly skilled in more than just cutting insults.

As Snape kissed Harry, he knew with certainty that he needed to touch him again. He'd resist as long as he could, but he would weaken, inevitably. Already his body was recovering. After all, either or both of them could die tomorrow. They had to take pleasure when they could.

When Harry finally pulled back, gasping a little, he smiled up at him again. "All right. So... Our little secret then?" he whispered. He hoped it would happen again, but he wanted Snape to want it, too.

"Our little secret," agreed Snape, wiping away a bit of moisture at the corner of the boy's mouth. He stepped away from Harry and unlocked the door. Then a small smile twisted his features. "Or at least until you get detention again."