Chapter Text
Her first Potions class after Snape caught her with Remus—fucked her with Remus—went entirely normally.
Snape treated her as he always did, belittling her efforts to brew her potion, vanishing it when he deemed it a failure, taking away ten House points. He did smirk at her then, which inevitably reminded her of his cock twitching in her mouth, of the taste of his bitter release. She didn't look away.
The second class followed the same pattern. Berate, remove points, smirk. The memory of his fingers pushing back his semen into her mouth popped up in her head, and, inexplicably, her belly jolted with heat. She frowned at her body's strange reaction. Why was she suddenly getting aroused by Snape? There was nothing attractive about the greasy, ugly git! The only nice part of him was... his cock.
Fuck.
She looked away from Snape so quickly pain lanced in her neck. Her cheeks flamed hot, a mix of panic and confusion running through her mind. What was wrong with her? It was Snape! He wasn't... she could never... she didn't want Snape! Where were those thoughts coming from? She couldn't even blame the two days window before her period during which she got really horny, because that had happened last week.
So what was going on?
She reflected on the subject later that evening, in the privacy of her own bed, the curtains drawn. It wasn't specifically about Snape, she decided. Something had happened during that threesome, something that had jarred loose an unknown part of her, and now that part was craving more than Remus. Yes, that was it. It was just that Snape wasn't Remus, and she was curious how it would feel to be with someone else.
Plus, there had been a full moon this week, so no Remus for three days, and then he had told her they should stop seeing each other (which he did every time, then changed his mind after, no big deal), which meant they hadn't had sex since that threesome.
She wanted sex.
She wanted to be thrown face-first onto a bed and pounded hard.
She wanted a warm, muscled body at her back, and kisses down her spine, and a thick cock stretching her.
Her thoughts ran hot and dirty as she teased her clit, spreading her wetness around. Usually she thought of Remus when she did this, but tonight... tonight, it was Snape she pictured at work between her legs. She wondered how his cock would feel inside her, filling her cunt. She wondered what sort of noises he made during sex, if that grunt he had let out when orgasming could get any deeper. Would he whisper in her ear while he fucked her? Yes, she decided.
"Needy girl," he would say, as he drove into her hard. "You like it rough, don't you, Potter? You need someone to fuck you properly."
Imagining his voice in her ear, she came in under a minute, climaxing with a gasp. Afterwards, she lay motionless for long minutes, shame hitting her full force once the haze of arousal had dissipated. She couldn't believe she had just masturbated thinking of Snape. Fuck.
Turning over on her belly, she buried her face in the pillow.
"What is wrong with me," she lamented.
Why, why Snape? He hadn't even been on the list she had drafted when she had first decided that if she was going to die, she wouldn't die a virgin. Seamus, yes, Dean, yes, George or Fred (or both), sure, Remus, of course, even Draco.
But not Snape.
She had assumed he wouldn't be interested (dead wrong there Harrie, damn), and he was too old (same age as Remus, and yet...), too ugly (except his cock, but she hadn't known that), and too mean. She didn't like mean. She didn't like Snape! So why did the thought of him fucking her made her insides quiver with arousal?
Confused, annoyed at herself, she had trouble falling asleep that night.
The next day was a Friday. She had double Potions in the afternoon, which was the worst way to finish the week. Even worse than usual, since Snape smirked at her three times within the first hour, and then lingered around her cauldron during the second hour, criticizing every single detail of her potion. He was practically breathing down her neck, and he even grasped her wrist at one point, under the pretense of showing her how to correctly angle her knife. His touch made her feel warm all over. She prayed to Merlin he wouldn't notice her reaction.
In normal circumstances, she would have had trouble getting the potion right, and now, with Snape hovering around her, it was downright impossible.
Her cauldron began bubbling dangerously, the liquid inside turning an alarming shade of purple. She stopped stirring it, reduced the flames, which did nothing, her potion now frothing and beginning to spill over the rim. She stepped back, grasping for her wand, shit, shit, it looked like it was going to explode and—
Vanished.
She was now looking at the bottom of her cauldron. Her gaze snapped up to Snape, who was standing near, his dark wand in hand.
"Detention, Potter."
"But I didn't—"
"And twenty points from Gryffindor for talking back."
She shut up.
"When?" she asked once class was over and everyone had left.
"You will call me sir, Potter."
Oh, she bet he just loved that.
"When, sir?"
His eyes flashed with dark satisfaction. Yep. He was getting off on it.
"This evening. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."
She spent the rest of her afternoon torn between guilt and a sort of excited apprehension. Her rational mind recoiled at the thought of doing anything sexual with Snape, of submitting to his perverse desires again. Another part of her, that wild, incomprehensible side that he had awakened, wondered what would happen. And all of her knew she had to go and do whatever he wanted, because he'd destroy Remus' life otherwise.
"Good luck with Snape," Ron told her as she left her seat after dinner.
"It's just a detention," she said, knowing very well it wouldn't be.
"Yeah, but he looked to be in a really foul mood today. He'll probably have you scrubbing his old dirty cauldrons until midnight."
"Probably."
She went to the dungeons, her mind swirling with all sorts of scenarios. Would he fuck her mouth again? Would he want more? What if he asked her to bend over his desk? Would she do it? Heat pulsed between her thighs at the very thought.
No. No, she wouldn't. She wasn't that easy. She had some dignity. She'd say no first, and then, if he insisted, if he threatened Remus... well, maybe then. But she wouldn't like it.
She knocked on the door of his office, loudly, three times.
"Come in."
The room was even colder than she remembered, and she shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her. Snape smirked at her. He was seated at his desk, marking essays, and after the smirk came a long, lingering stare. She returned a scowl, a challenging expression to answer his overt examination of her.
"Potter. Can you guess what you'll be doing for your detention tonight?"
"Why don't you tell me, sir?"
"You will help me while I'm marking essays," he said, his smirk widening to a full-blown leer.
"Okay," Harrie said.
"By keeping my cock warm."
Instant blushing.
"I told you I wasn't going to fuck you," she said, ignoring the potent surge of arousal his crude words had brought on.
His face twisted in a rictus. She couldn't tell if that was amusement or scorn.
"Did I say anything about your cunt, Potter?"
"Oh, you mean... my mouth again? You want me to just... keep your cock in my mouth?"
"That is what the word cockwarming would imply, yes," he said, in his how dumb are you tone. "It does not require any particular skills and thus should be well within your capabilities. What has Lupin even been doing with you?"
"Fucking me senseless with his big cock."
"Entirely after his own self-gratification, then. Not even bothering to teach you anything about the pleasures of the flesh. Does he even make you come?"
"Yeah. Every time," she said, defiantly. "Remus is a very skilled lover."
Snape gave a little laugh, as if she had said something funny.
"Did you go to him because you wanted sweetness and kisses? Is that what the Golden Girl is after? Are you that starved for affection that you'll whore yourself out to get it?"
"Shut up."
It came out of her unthinkingly, and then it was too late. Snape's gaze narrowed to something dangerously sharp.
"Ten points from Gryffindor," he said, icily. "I expect respect, Potter, even when my cock will be in your mouth. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she gritted out. "Yes, sir."
"Come here."
She obeyed, entertaining fantasies of just biting down on his cock once it would be in her mouth.
"No," he said as she was rounding his desk. "Under the desk. Crawl between my legs."
She got on her knees, crawled there, in the cramped space. Snape sat with his legs wide apart, the bulge of his erection very visible. She set her hands on his thighs, slowly sliding them up, toward his groin.
"Respectfully, sir, you are a complete pervert."
"Because I desire you?" he said in a bored voice. "Wouldn't that qualification apply to Lupin as well, then? Or are you under the impression he loves you?"
She huffed through her nose, working his belt open. That small, insane part of her that caused her to feel arousal at the situation was eager to see his cock again, to hold it in her hand, to have it in her mouth, while her rational mind was screaming that she couldn't possibly want this. She didn't understand how Snape could evoke such conflicting emotions in her.
"It's not about love. I trust Remus. And you...you hate me, and... and you just want my mouth."
"Oh, I want more than your mouth. But for today, it will do."
His belt undone, she reached into his boxers and drew his cock out. He was fully erect, even dripping pre-cum.
"I hate this," she said out loud, because she had to, because hearing it might convince her that it was true, that it was the most important thing right now, and not the excited flutters of heat in her core.
Then she took him in her mouth. He sighed in pleasure, his thighs twitching. She wished she could see his face, like the previous time, witness there how much he enjoyed her mouth on him.
But that would make it worse, cried logic.
No, hotter, answered her hormones, or whatever it was that made her cunt so wet.
"Is that all you can take?" Snape said.
She curled her fingers around the rest of him, started stroking the base of his shaft.
"Remove your hand, Potter. And don't suck. Keep it in your mouth, nothing more."
He was bloody confusing. Why didn't he want a normal blowjob? She was vaguely familiar with the concept of cockwarming, but with her mouth? That was bizarre. Shifting into a more comfortable position, she set her hands on her thighs and sat there, half his thick cock in her mouth. He made no more comment, and soon the sounds of his quill scratching on parchment filled the room.
Minutes crawled by. She realized she'd forgotten to ask how long her detention would be. Surely not the usual four hours and more? He couldn't possibly sustain an erection for that long anyway.
An hour, max, she told herself.
It was still sixty minutes spent there, at Snape's feet, keeping his cock warm. It sat heavy on her tongue, sometimes twitching. She relaxed her lips around him, tried not to move too much. Time passed. She was starting to get an ache in her jaw, and some of her saliva was dripping down her chin, accumulating too quickly for her to swallow. Then it was a cramp in her neck, vaguely pulsing in pain.
She shifted subtly, groaned when her movement awakened another kind of pulsing, right between her legs. She was so wet. She would have only needed a little stimulation to...
No.
No, no, no.
Absolutely not!
She shifted again, her hands grasping the fabric of her skirt so she wouldn't be tempted to do anything else with them. So she was aroused, so what? It didn't mean anything if she didn't act on it. Snape would never know.
How long had it been now? There had been no break in the scratching of the quill, and he hadn't moved one inch. The cramp in Harrie's neck was starting to really hurt. She lifted her arm, massaging the sore muscle, groaning at the relief.
"You little slut. Are you touching yourself down there?"
Oh, God. His gravelly voice made her moan again, molten heat spearing straight up her cunt.
"Are you, Potter? Go on, you filthy girl. Make me hear how wet you are."
Fuck. Fuck, she couldn't resist. Widening her stance, she sneaked a hand under her skirt and into her knickers, pushed two fingers inside herself while she swirled her thumb on her clit. Another muffled moan left her as she did exactly what Snape wanted, letting him hear the wet, lewd noises of her fingers pumping into her cunt.
"Do you wish it was my cock there in your cunt?" he said in a half-growl. "Do you think you could take it?"
She moved her tongue under his cock, sucking, bobbing her head a little, thrusting her fingers faster, lost to her need, chasing the spectacular orgasm she could feel building in the pit of her belly. Faster, faster, fuck...
"How desperate you are. To suck cock, to take cock... Do it, Potter. Come for me."
The detonation came from so deep inside her it felt like it started in her very soul. A series of cascading shockwaves spreading outward, hot and pulsing and bloody marvelous, and she was drooling around Snape's cock, her head jerking up and down wildly, her cunt clutching at her still moving fingers, moaning the entire time she was coming, squirting all over the floor.
It was barely over that Snape was grabbing her hair and forcing her to swallow more of his cock. She gagged and choked, the tip of him stabbing the tender flesh at the back of her throat. He didn't relent, using her mouth roughly, like she was nothing more than a hole for him to rut into, groaning in pleasure all the while. Tears leaked down her cheeks, joining the drool already staining her face.
"What a hot little mouth you have. It was made to suck my cock... yes, take it."
He rammed himself deep again, holding her head in place as he ground his pelvis against her face. Now that she had come, it should have been disgusting, should have been awful, should have been the last thing she wanted.
It wasn't.
It made her cunt flutter again and throb in need, as if that exhausting, mindblowing orgasm hadn't been enough. What the hell was Snape doing to her? Had he fed her some lust potion while she wasn't looking?
"Mmm, that's it, moan for me. Show me how much you like my cock."
She was moaning, and rather loudly, even with her mouth full. He tugged her head back, pulling her off his cock, and she gasped in a breath, then coughed. Snape moved, pushing his chair back and taking her with him, until she was no longer under the desk. She looked up at this face, felt vindicated at the lust painted there, at the ferocious light in his dark eyes.
Licking her lips, she stuck out her tongue. He twisted his hand in her hair, while he stroked himself with his other hand, his fist working wetly up and down his shaft.
"You want my cum there, Potter? On your tongue?"
She answered with a defiant look. He smirked, pumped himself faster. He came with a rough grunt, pulses of cum coating her face, some landing in her mouth, others on her cheeks, on her nose, on her chin. The thick ropes of semen were warm and sticky, and Harrie felt absolutely filthy, and thoroughly degraded. And also impossibly turned on.
"Does Lupin leave you with cum on your face?" Snape said, in a rough murmur that crawled all over her skin.
"No."
A little breathless 'no', revealing everything she felt. Snape smiled, triumph lighting up his gaze. He tugged her forward, his cock bumping her cheek.
"Lick me clean."
She gave a wide lick to his cock, looking him straight in the eyes, then sucked on his shaft. He moved his leg, sliding it between her spread thighs, and then pressed the tip of his boot against her drenched knickers, the pressure making her jolt. She moaned, her eyes near rolling to the back of her head.
"What a filthy little slut you make," he said, grinding his boot into her cunt, hard.
Shuddering in violent pleasure, she rocked her hips against his boot as she sucked his cock, constant moaning vibrating from her throat.
"You've already come once, and that wasn't enough, was it, Potter? You're so desperate for more you'll take anything I could give you, even my boot."
Her entire body was hot from shame and arousal, her legs shaking, her hands gripping Snape's thighs. She was vaguely aware of how debauched she must have looked, sucking Snape's cock and desperately grinding against his boot while her face glistened with his cum, but she didn't care. In that moment, she was doing exactly what she wanted, what she needed to do.
He grew hard again in her mouth, and she bobbed her head faster, rocked her hips more urgently, chasing her orgasm in a symphony of sloppy noises. Snape was breathing hard, grinning like a maniac.
"You'll swallow everything this time," he said.
He gathered her hair in his fist, began thrusting into her mouth, in long steady strokes that made her gag every time. His boot kept a torturous rhythm, holding her on the knife's edge of ecstasy, her cunt pulsing so fiercely it was almost painful. Tears leaked from her eyes, her brain felt like it was being compressed by a great deal of pressure, and she was making mewling sounds around Snape's cock, her entire body trembling.
"Slut," Snape snarled. "Ah, fuck..."
His cock gave a twitch between her lips, and he let loose three heavy spurts of cum on her tongue, swearing again as he came. She swallowed, sucking on him as if to milk him dry of every drop, her hips rocking furiously, her eyes closed, nearing that brilliant edge.
"Good girl."
And she was flying off it, whimpering and keening, as she came apart onto the hard edge of his boot. She shook with tremors, squirting again, a rush of liquid inundating Snape's boot, her inner muscles pulsating with great waves of pleasure.
"Oh, God," she gasped once it was over.
She was sprawled into Snape's lap, her face resting against his softened cock, and she couldn't stop trembling. That hadn't been an orgasm. That had been a life-altering experience. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
"I believe a thank you is in order, Potter," Snape said, in a wry, malicious tone.
"Uh," she said.
"Words, girl. I think we'll go with 'Thank you for making me come so hard, Professor.'"
"Thank you... for making me come so hard... Professor."
She lifted her head, met his eyes. He was smirking (of course he was). She couldn't even find the strength to glare. She just stared at him, utterly exhausted and utterly satisfied. He threaded his fingers through her hair in a surprisingly gentle way, making her scalp tingle.
"Now apologize for ruining the leather of my boot by squirting all over it like a filthy girl."
"I'm sorry."
"Mmmh. Are you, truly?"
"Uh-uh."
"Open your mouth."
When she did, he spat into her mouth, a fat globe of saliva landing on her tongue.
"Swallow."
Holy hell, why was this so hot? Something was wired wrong in her brain. Or in her cunt. She swallowed Snape's spit, more of his bodily fluids, and stayed there on her knees, her breath still coming in pants. Snape's fingers palmed her scalp, sending small, jittery shivers down her spine.
"Have you had enough?"
She snorted.
"There's no way you can get hard again so fast."
"Is that Lupin's limit? Two rounds? Pathetic."
He was bluffing. He had to be.
"I prefer Remus anyway," she said, just to needle him.
He sneered and shoved her off him.
"Go back to the wolf, then, Potter. See if he makes you come as hard as I have."
"The aftercare is loads better."
Snape rolled his eyes, dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She cleaned herself with a quick spell, left his office, walking back to her dorm on shaky legs. Her body felt loose in a way it never had with Remus. Like Snape had truly satisfied something inside her, filling something empty to perfection.
And he hadn't even really fucked her.
What would happen when he did?