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HEAVENLY BLUE or The Damiana Made Me Do It Ron glanced cautiously around the classroom before furtively emptying the small packet of powdered damiana into the potion he was brewing. As the last grain trickled home, he realized Hermione was watching him out of the corner of her eye. He cursed inwardly, but she just cut him a quick, unreadable glance and focused on her own work. "As I have said, and as was doubtless heard by none of you," Professor Snape sighed, "with the possible exception of Miss Granger, the Amicus Amiablus potion is fairly simple in and of itself, and is often used as a base for other formulae. 'Simple', of course, does not necessarily mean 'safe', and even a potion as basic as this one can be misused. Therefore, you are all to experience its effects under controlled circumstances, so that you will be at least passingly familiar with it should you encounter it again." Turning his back, Snape instructed them to pour their potions into sturdy glass tumblers and place them on the large lazy susan on his desk. The potions were a pearly white, with coruscating glints of blue and pink. With two exceptions. One (Ron suspected it was Neville's, although he hadn't seen it set down) was a deep, shimmering blue. Ron's was red. Really red. Uncompromisingly red. Glowing crimson, in fact, with a pulsating light like a luminous heart. He hoped, against all reason, that no-one had noticed it was his, as Snape turned round to face the class once more. "Well, it appears that some of you felt the need to tamper with the recipe already. I suppose I'd best reserve the crimson for myself; I can see that it's been adulterated." With that, Snape quaffed the glowing red potion. "Mr. Potter, you shall take the blue draught, and as that leaves us one dose short, Miss Granger will kindly forgo hers in order to take notes on your behavior under the potion's effects. You will all drink a glass of Amicus Amiablus. Now." Hermione glanced nervously back and forth between Ron and Snape, her eyes widening. For his part, Ron tried to keep any and all expression from his face and made a show of choosing one of the potions. When Snape laid a hand on his shoulder, he gasped, coughing on the potion he was hastily gulping down. "Mr. Weasley. You will accompany me to my office, and we will discuss your unauthorized... experimentation." The walk took longer than Ron thought possible. Professor Snape stood behind him the whole way, steering him with a firm hand on either shoulder. Upon entering Snape's office, the Professor locked the door behind him, and Ron twitched. His jangling nerves weren't helped any as Snape pushed him against the closed door and kissed him. Hard. Too nervous to struggle (and, somehow, he felt oddly disinclined to do so), he leaned limply into the kiss, only a little startled to feel what could only be an impressive erection pressing against him through Snape's robes. He was gasping when the kiss broke, but Snape's eyes were stern. "Now, perhaps you can tell me why you felt it appropriate to brew Aphrodite Elixir in my class." "Oh, is that what it's called?" "No stalling." Snape cradled Ron's chin in one hand. "You're messing around in something very dangerous, and I want all the details." "Ummm...." With Snape's eyes boring into his own, Ron was at a loss for words. Nerves? Or the Amicus Amiablus potion? He did feel more relaxed than the situation warranted. "Hermione and I were talking about today's assignment and she said that Amicus Amiablus was the base for a simple love potion-" "You've got the wrong four-letter word beginning with L, but go on." "-and I was going to try and get Harry to drink some." "Harry Potter? Why were you.... oh, forget it. I don't really want to know, and it's not worth taking the time to talk about." He sat down on his couch, pulling Ron beside him, stroking his hair. "Anyway, if you had managed to slip that stuff to Potter, he wouldn't be mooning over you, or nuzzling your neck. He'd have you bent over your desk right now, rogering you senseless. In *my* classroom, I might add. I do frown on such antics, you know." "But you're not.... I mean..." Ron flushed at the vivid image Snape had conjured up. "I've got a little more self-control than a randy teenager, and I know how these potions work." Snape pulled off his robe, and laid a hand on Ron's cheek. "They're nothing to play with. When I was a student here, some fool first-year had a crush on one of the Slytherin Quidditch players, and she snuck some of that same mess you brewed into his dinner, hoping it would make him notice her. She wasn't expecting how far his 'notice' would go, and tried to fend him off, and he wound up 'noticing' her into the hospital wing." "That's awful!" Ron shuddered at the tale he'd just been told, but couldn't quite connect it with the way Snape's hands were roaming. He hadn't noticed his robe come off, but there he was in his jeans and shirt... his unbuttoned shirt. "But you're not... well, I mean..." Because after all, he was, wasn't he? Only, it didn't feel so bad. Only, it felt pretty damned good, actually. One of Snape's hands was still resting on his cheek. Ron turned his head just enough to suck two fingers into his mouth, tonguing them teasingly, slurping them in and out. "Wicked child! How I am I supposed to lecture you when you go and do *that*?" But Snape didn't sound angry, although there was certainly a catch in his breathing. "`m not a child," said Ron, a bit indistinctly through his mouthful of fingers. "Besides, what are you going to lecture me about now... *this*?" He thrust his hand down the waist of Snape's trousers, grasping his stiff cock. He'd expected a gasp, or maybe a reprimand, but the low, shuddering groan he was rewarded with was nothing like the stifled, turned on moans he'd elicited from Harry (and had made himself) in their after-dark explorations. To Ron it sounded like the sound a man who'd resigned himself to dying of thirst might make, sighting distant water. "Remove your hand now," said Snape through clenched teeth, "or I won't be able to restrain myself from tearing away what remains of your clothes, throwing you down on the carpet, and burying myself balls-deep in your sweet little ass." Although a voice in the back of his head whispered that this was an alarming prospect, Ron couldn't bring himself to be alarmed. His cock, for instance, seemed to fully agree with the idea, if it's growing hardness was any indication. "Maybe I want that." "You don't. Seriously." Snape actually grinned. "Rug-burn on your prick would be the least of your worries." "But I...." Ron took a deep breath. "I want you. Is it the Amicus Amiablus doing that? It doesn't feel fake." "The Amicus Amiablus relaxes you... will you *stop* doing that thing with your hand!... and makes you a bit more suggestible, maybe, but it certainly won't plant ideas in your head. Unlike that concoction you decided to whip up..." Snape eased Ron's shirt off his shoulders, and peeled his jeans off. Ron wriggled to ease the removal of his clothes, and fumbling tried to undress Snape. "So it's just the potion? You don't really want me?" Snape silenced him with another savagely intense kiss, seizing Ron's hips with callused hands. Ron pulled back to see darkly luminous eyes gazing at him. "I don't make a habit of debauching my students, even when they are as delectable as you," Snape breathed, moving in to bite at Ron's neck, not quite gently, "but if we'd met under other circumstances, I'd have needed very little encouragement to do this." Lowering his head, he took Ron's cock in his mouth. It was obviously not the first time he'd done that sort of thing. Ron whimpered at the sensation of his Professor's tongue spiraling around the shaft of his dick. He felt the muscles in Snape's throat, tensing around the head. He clutched at the cushions of the couch, willing himself to endure, but when Snape slid an oiled (when had he gotten the oil? Ron was past caring) finger along his buttcrack and worked it gently into his asshole, it was too much. "I can't.. I'm gonna...." Snape's only reply was a muffled growl. The vibration of it was enough to send Ron over the edge, and he writhed with the strength of his orgasm. Coming back to himself, he saw Snape half-sitting, half-sprawling on the floor, head thrown back against the couch. One of Ron's leg's lay across his chest, and he rested his cheek against it. One hand still lightly cupped Ron's ass, the other stroked the length of his cock. Ron was a little intimidated by just how large Snape's cock was. Or maybe it was just the shock of seeing him there, spread out, in a well lit room, as opposed to being cramped in a too-small bed in a dark room, trying not to make any noise...but any comparison with his furtive fumblings with Harry was meaningless now. Sliding to the floor, he knelt beside Snape, and lapped at that swollen, magnificent cock. He teased the head with his tongue, nipped lightly along the underside of the shaft, bent to mouth Snape's balls before circling up to take as much as he could in his mouth, wrapping a hand around the meaty base. Snape twined one hand in Ron's flaming hair, and gripped the back of his neck with the other. "Oh...where did you... Oh! You're do young to be so good at this, you little... ah... ah...." As Snape spasmed, Ron tightened his mouth around his cock, determined to swallow every last drop of his come. It seemed to take forever. Afterwards, he lay with his head pillowed on Snape's belly. "You knew all along that I'd brewed that potion, didn't you?" "No, I rather thought this one had been Mr. Malfoy's doing." Snape sounded bemused. "Draco?" "Well, the lecherous little tart's been swiving and slurping his way through Slytherin since his second year, and making inroads into the other houses since his third. Add that to his vile habit of trying to get everything he wants with a spell, and it makes sense. It seemed a perfect time to teach him a lesson." Snape sighed. "I knew he was your favorite!" "I'll have you know that I've been chasing him out from under my desk at least once a week since his *first* year. I daren't sit near him at meals anymore. I swear, the boy's got double-jointed hips." Ron chuckled at the implications of that, then remembered something. "What about the blue stuff you had Harry drink?" "Ah, the Amicus Hypnotica. That's what happens when you add the crushed Kava root at the same time as the dove's feather ashes and pulverized morning glory seeds, instead of after the pinch of powdered dragon's eggshell. Mr. Potter will have an hour or two of pleasant dreams and wake feeling fairly content." "That sounds nice, actually." Ron Paused. "I thought you didn't like him." "Like?" Snape snorted. "I'm not here to *like* any of you, much less inspire liking. I am here to teach." "So what will the Amicus Hypnotica teach Harry?" "To be more careful with bottles labeled 'Drink Me', I suppose." His expression softened slightly. "I thought him the one in most need of peaceful slumber." "Well, I suppose I get top marks for this lesson, at least?" "If it became known that one could pass by plying one's professor with priapic potions, I'd get no peace at all. No, I'm going to assign a makeup project to you and Miss Granger." "Hermione? but she didn't--" "Keep her trap shut about the damiana. Vulcan's Balls, haven't you figured out by now how dangerous those 'love' potions can be? At least you didn't try it on your own. Who knows what would have happened." "I tried," Ron admitted, "but I couldn't find the morning glory seeds." "Nor will you. Even a muggle could make a brew of those that'd twist your mind, if he'd read the right books." "So, did Snape give you a tongue-lashing?" Harry asked sympathetically. Ron flushed an ugly beet color that clashed dreadfully with his hair. Hermione hummed a song Ron didn't recognize, and Harry glanced at her quizzically. "Never would have figured you for a Van Halen fan, Hermione." "Oh, and we're supposed to do a make-up report." Ron hurriedly thrust Snape's note at her. He already knew what it said, he'd been cuddled in Snape's lap when he wrote it. "Miss Granger, The next time someone brews Aphrodite Elixir in my class, I'll see to it personally that you drink it... straight from Draco Malfoy's hands. Now write a joint report with Mr. Weasley about the dangers inherent in the use of so-called love potions. Professor Severus Snape" "So, what'd I miss?" Ron asked, before Harry could ask about the note. Hermione seemed grateful for the diversion. "Well, the blue potion must have been some sort of sleep elixir, because Harry dozed off right at his desk. Everyone else got a little giddy, and really, really friendly, and Draco," she blanched a little, "made a sort of bed for Harry by pushing a few chairs together, and spent the rest of the class stroking his hair." "Yuck!" cried Harry. "Maybe I ought to shave my head!" "I dunno if that'll be enough," grinned Ron, "Hermione didn't say the hair he was stroking was on your head!" |