Blind Ambition

Chapter One

What was wrong with him?

Harry sighed as he hung his head in his hands, his elbows perched on the edge of a table. His position in the corner of the library granted him some privacy as the remaining warmth offered by the sun began to disappear from view.

Who was he kidding? He knew what was wrong, the real question was rather, why? Why did this keep happening to him? He'd never had this problem before. He pressed his thighs together, as though doing so would somehow suppress the urge to slide his hand down his trousers and deal with himself in the traditional sense. He had hoped that coming to the library would either distract him or at the very least bore him enough that the thing between his legs would fall unconscious for once.

Perhaps there was a potion he could use? His eyes wandered the shelves lined with an excess of books, feeling tired at the mere prospect of research.

Where was Hermione when he needed her?

Eww no.

He couldn't tell her about this problem, what had he been thinking?

He had to find a solution himself, one that preferably didn't involve making his wrist ache.

He sighed once more before leaning back in his seat. He had to admit he had misgivings about remaining at Hogwarts over the break, but he didn't particularly want to impose himself onto Ron's family. Plus having the castle more or less to himself was the most privacy he could hope for these days.

Another pang from his groin drew him straight back to the library. Damn it. He was sure there was no one here as he rose from his seat, only to recede into a nearby alcove. He bent himself over the edge of the windowsill, watching as the darkness of night crept over the grounds of the castle. He was as tucked away from the rest of the empty library, though he could well have stayed right where he had been sitting if his sense of self-consciousness didn't get the better of him.

He forced a deep breath into his lungs before undoing the button on his trousers, followed in earnest by the descent of his zip.

What was he doing? Right here in the library? For gods sake go to the bathroom. Harry clenched his teeth, mentally berating himself as he felt his erection spring free from it's confines.

The boy's breathing began to shallow as he slid his fingers around his erection, feeling his trousers slide down his thighs. He tightened his grip around himself as waves of pleasure began to course through his groin.

He was getting close as his eyelids drew heavy, he could feel his grasp over his awareness slipping as he no longer cared that he was in the library, nor that he was about to make one god awful mess, nor that his trousers had now slipped so far down his legs that they now formed a pile around his ankles. No, the only thing that mattered to him now was achieving that all but guaranteed rush of pleasure as his most primal urges consumed not only his body, but his mind as well. He felt as though nothing in the world could possibly pull him back to his perilous reality as he edged closer to that line.

"Mr Potter." An all too familiar drawl suddenly greeted his ears, though in that moment it felt less of a greeting and more reminiscent of a violent assault.

Harry felt his heart suddenly stop in his chest.

No.

No.

No way.

Harry kept his eyes firmly shut and his head firmly down, suddenly too afraid to be greeted by this awful reality to ever contemplate opening them ever again.

"S-Snape?" Harry murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he suddenly felt as though he had been standing there for an eternity. Whether he liked it or not, he had to brave the odds and finally force his eyes open.

"Professor Snape to you." The older man corrected, his opaque dark eyes drilling into Harry's, yet despite this intensity, they wavered slightly, as though the temptation to glance south were taunting him a little too much. Though, it was impossible for Harry to ignore a distinctively bemused smirk lingering on the professor's lips, as though the joy of Christmas had only just begun.

Fuck.

"Mr Potter, I'm sure I do not need to remind you that the library is not the place for such... Activities."

The younger wizard could not recall a time when he had felt even a fraction of the humiliation he felt right now. Though, he could barely recall anything as his brain ceased to function. He felt as though he were a deer caught in headlights. Only these headlights didn't have to decency to kill him.

There was no way Snape would ever live this down. How was he supposed to sit through any DADA classes now?

Harry felt a nausea rise in the pit of his stomach, yet despite this unbearable humiliation, his erection was still not going away. In fact, he was sure it was getting worse. That's when the realisation suddenly hit him like a slap right across the face, Snape had a full view of his bare back side. Why had it taken so long for this concept to dawn on him?

Great.

Harry gazed over his shoulder, up into the professors dark orbs, as though attempting to send a message to the man without words.

Just go away.

Why was he still standing there? He could at least give him some privacy to bend down and pull his trousers up.

Harry's grimace was reflected in Snape's eyes with a glint of sheer delight.

"Detention Mr Potter." Snape smirked as he glid away, disappearing in a second as though he had simply been some kind of horrid apparition.

Harry stood there is shock, his body paralysed and incapable of moving as his half naked body remained exposed to whoever else might happen to walk past.

It didn't matter, Harry couldn't think of anyone worse than Snape. Except maybe Draco Malfoy, or Voldemort himself.