Author�s Note: Dedicated with much glee to Switchknife, whose wonderfully perverse observation encapsulated something of why this pairing is such a joy to me:
'Most Porn in Fewest Words? LOL, thank you so much!!! That award, however, belongs to Professor Snape, for: "Detention, Mr Potter." There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, that can spark as many smutty images as that. Especially in that smoky voice...'
And to Isis, for her icon 'My fandom's on all fours in Snape's office.'
"Detention, Mr Potter."
I mean, it's so bloody clich�d!
I've tried, very subtly, to find out: is it just me? I don't think somehow that this is the normal practice at Hogwarts, with its reputation as the best British school for wizards.
Or maybe it is. Maybe Professor Dumbledore's an evil overlord. Maybe the whole thing's just an elaborate cover-up, riddling the place with cold secrets and empty tunnelled eyes. Maybe these dirty little secret meetings are happening on *every* *single* *level*.
My eyes feel like they're going shifty and suspicious. I refocus them on my cauldron.
Three little words.
Shiver, shiver, shiver, go my shoulder blades, and I grasp onto the edges of my desk to stop the trembling. He always acts the same after he's said them. But I can tell from his intonation.
I am counting out tiny pinches of St. John's Wort into the brewing mixture, and I *concentrate*.
One and two and three and four -
Snape's gonna do you on his office floor -
Oh *God*.
I look at Ron. He looks back at me, straight-faced. My pulse immediately decides that the 'at rest' zone is no longer the place for it, and leaps for 'frantic exertion'. Does he know, does he suspect - anything?
"Alright?" I murmur, casually checking his eyes again. Ron nods, tersely, then flicks his eyes at Snape, on the prowl.
"Bloody Potions," he mutters.
Sagging in relief against the desk isn't an option, I remind myself. Of course Ron's pissed off, it's his and just about everyone else's least favourite lesson. And I get the secret special extended version, in Snape's office. God, I *hate* him!
Why hate him when you can't do anything about it?
Fuck off, reasonable voice, I growl.
Harry, Harry, Harry, continues the voice, sounding irritatingly like Gilderoy Lockhart. If you make up your mind to get the pleasure out of it, you might surprise yourself, you know.
It sets me off-balance, and I listen to Snape's voice rebuking Seamus. *Smoky*. I learned that word to describe what he does with his voice, after overhearing a conversation between some second-year Slytherin girls.
("...I'm just saying, if you close your eyes, and hear that voice...'specially when he's putting some Gryffindor down."
"Yeah, if you nicked his voice, right, and then put it in someone else, 'cos it's so - I dunno..."
"Smoky," suggested another girl, lowering her voice and putting on a siren's drawl.
Shrieks of laughter from the other