Harry collapsed into his chair behind his desk at the front of the classroom as the last of his students left. Everything that could have gone wrong seemed to have done, today. Lost quizzes, misfired and miscast spells, fights had broken out in three different classes, and to top it off, he'd been informed at lunch that he was assigned to do midnight rounds on Friday, right before he was meant get up ungodly early to chaperone the Hogsmeade weekend. Just as he began to believe that the day could hold no more unpleasant surprises, Snape crashed through the door, the wood cracking as it bounced off the wall. The sneer and violent stride suggested he wasn't here for tea and biscuits.

"You put half my Quidditch team in detention!" It wasn't a question.

Harry groaned and massaged his temples as the deep, booming voice seemed to ricochet around the inside of his skull. "Yes, as well as 5 of Gryffindor's team." He responded in a much lower voice that still made his head ache. "How did you find out? I just released that class five minutes ago."

Snape growled. "As a Head of House, I am immediately alerted through the magic of the school when any of my students are punished by another professor."

"Explains a lot," The Defense Master mumbled tiredly. "Are we done?"

All Harry wanted was to crawl into bed with a book and migraine potion (brewed, of course, by the man currently creating the need for it). As if to emphasize these thoughts on the potion, Snape slammed his hand down onto Harry's desk. The Gryffindor flinched involuntarily and had to stifle a gag as the sound sent a spike of pain through his head.

"We are not done, Potter, until you explain to me why half my Quidditch team lost my House a hundred and fifty points and were assigned a detention to take place during the first match of the season!" Snape shouted. Harry thought the man was definitely breaking some sort of sound barrier at this point, because his head felt closer to implosion with each word.

The Wizarding Savior leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his forehead with a grimace. "Look, four of your students and five of Minerva's were all given the same detention, and all of them lost fifty points each. I then gave them a chance to regain some of their lost points by coming forward. Corin, your team captain, admitted to goading Lawg, the Gryffindor team captain. After that, the fight escalated out of control, decimating my classroom for the third time today." He sighed. "If you would prefer, I can take the points back, and assign him a different detention, leaving him free to observe the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw match." Harry glanced up at his former professor through his fringe. "I thought you didn't like Quidditch?"

Snape straightened and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "I like to win.

Harry was infinitely grateful for the softer tone that somewhat soothed the jack hammer in his head. "I'm sure Minerva will pin me down tonight at the Staff Meeting with complaints similar to yours. Unfortunately for her, none of her Gryffindors lived up to the House's most famous trait. Not a single one of them was willing to take responsibility for throwing the first spell."

Snape frowned. "You're sure it was a Gryffindor?"

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would still have assumed so." Harry admitted softly. "The first shot shattered my very rare werewolf skeleton, caught in mid-transformation. Flack, Gryffindor's seeker, threw the first punch, so to speak. However, since I'm trying to instill in my students at least some modicum of responsibility, I haven't yet called him out on it. He has until tonight to come clean, or I'm giving him another week's worth of detentions." He stood unsteadily, leaning heavily on his desk.

"Does this tactic have any effect at all?" Snape inquired.

The Gryffindor shrugged, wincing when it sent a bolt of pain down his spine and across his skull. "Not as much as I'd like, but as I mentioned before, Corin did admit to goading Lawg, so I know I'm doing something right, at least." He stood up straight, wobbling slightly. "If that was everything that you wished to discuss, I am going to retire to my room now, Severus, in the hopes that doing so will prevent anything else horrible from happening today." With a guileless smile, he started around his desk. He made it about halfway before his vision went black.

When he recovered consciousness a few seconds later, he was being held by his former professor's strong, wiry arms.

"What have you done to yourself, Potter?" The silky voice drawled.

Harry groaned as his vision swam, then winced when his head rejected the sound painfully. "S'just a migraine," He muttered. He drew back slightly at the look of agitated worry on the Potions Master's face. "What?"

"Describe your day, Potter, in five words or less," Snape demanded in response.

Harry tried to think past the cloud of agony blanketing his mind. "Take your pick: 'Worst day ever," or 'Everything that could possibly go wrong'." He said mildly.

Snape smirked softly. "Despite your use of an extra word, you are surprisingly coherent for someone with a migraine bad enough to knock you off your feet. If you are amenable, I believe I can salvage what is left of your day."

"What do I have to do?" Harry asked warily.

"Simply do not hex me, Professor Potter."

Before the Gryffindor could ask what his Slytherin companion meant, a pair of cool, thin lips descended on him, a warm tongue slipping past his parted lips to tangle with his own. In the span of a heartbeat, Harry stiffened against the onslaught of sensations before giving in to the kiss completely. He responded by pulling the man flush against him. The Defense Master moaned as long fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his head and a scrawny chest forced him to lean back against his desk.

Then, as suddenly as the kiss began, it was over, leaving Harry mildly dazed, as if he'd been drugged. He shook his head to clear his mind, and looked to the smirking man in front of him.

"How's your head?"

The Wizarding Savior considered this. "It's…better. Headache is gone. How did you-?"

"An experimental potion," Snape told him by way of an explanation. " I've been working on it for months. It's meant to mimic Felix Felicis exactly, only in the reverse. Rather than incalculable good luck, you will find all of your endeavors fail. It was commissioned by an anonymous private company, and was designed to help couples through their disagreements. Simply dose your partner, watch them have the worst day of their life, then come to their rescue. The cure is quite literally 'true love's kiss', or at least, the antidote requires foreign saliva to enter the system. I will have to go back and revise the recipe, obviously, try and do away with the migraine side-effect, as it could hinder the potion's purpose."

"But that's ingenious," Harry exclaimed excitedly. His smile fell the next second. "Hold up, you dosed me with an experimental potion?!"

Snape's patented smirk turned malicious as he turned to leave the Defense classroom. "Stop stealing my coffee at staff meetings."

Harry watched the man go with a secret smile. "Not a chance, Professor," He murmured to the empty room after the door had closed behind the former Death Eater. He was still aghast that the man had used him as a guinea pig over a few absconded cups of coffee, but he also felt something in him stirring. That had been a hell of a kiss, and if stealing the man's coffee caused it to happen more often, he was more than willing to play test-bunny.

SSHP

The Boy Who Lived To Teach smirked as he was slammed forcefully against the stone wall of the corridor. He didn't so much mind the hand on his throat, those slim fingers caressing his pulse point. Snape stood at the length of his arm, snarling.

"You just don't listen, Potter," The older wizard snarled.

Harry continued to smirk. "Call me a glutton for punishment," He murmured huskily. "You made my day, quite literally, a waking nightmare. I call that enough hardship to have earned a bloody good cup of coffee. And your method of preparing a pot most definitely meets those standards. Certainly, it was worth the risk."

"Of my poisoning you again?" Snape demanded, shoving his face closer to Harry's.

The Gryffindor lifted his chin and stepped away from the wall boldly, so that their lips were mere inches apart. "If it meant you might kiss me again, then absolutely."

He was slammed back into the wall again as a firm, warm tongue was shoved into his mouth, their teeth colliding painfully, though neither noticed. Harry tried and failed to lean into the man, to make their bodies collide as their mouths had, but Snape kept well-back, denying him the contact he craved. Beyond their dueling tongues, the only contact was the silky hand still caressing his throat and holding him against the cold stone wall. Finally, Harry decided he'd had enough teasing, and he reached out, burying his fingers into the other man's thick robes and dragging him hard against him.

Their bodies met in a mesh of stiff robes and stiffer erections through starched trousers. Harry groaned at the delicious friction as a thigh immediately folded itself between his legs. Snape growled and used this new leverage to pin Harry bodily against the wall, his hand moving from Harry's throat to tangle with the buttons of his dress shirt, making quick work of enough of them to reach past the fabric and tweak a hardened nipple.

Harry threw his head back as sharp teeth began to nip at the skin of his throat. His head met the corridor wall with a thunk, and it hurt enough to clear his desire-fogged mind. He looked up and down the mercifully empty corridor and swallowed thickly, trying desperately to wet his dry mouth.

"F-fuck, Snape, s-stop." He gasped as that other sinful hand began trying to pull his shirt from his waist.

The dark head rose from where Snape had been suckling his pulse point, marking it with a deep bruise Harry could already feel forming. "Potter," The man growled hungrily. "If you're saying 'no'…" The unfinished sentence promised bodily harm.

Harry gave a breathy chuckle. "No. I-I mean, not 'no', but…fuck, I'm really not saying 'no'. It's just…" He trailed off with a groan as slim hips ground against his. "Not here. If this is going where I really, really hope it is, perhaps the middle of a corridor is not the best place for it?"

Snape backed away slightly as realization of where they were crested over his features. He grabbed Harry's hand and began dragging him along behind, down the corridor.

"Come."

Harry smirked as he let himself be dragged towards the dungeons. "Oh, believe me, I intend to."

A/N: I may write a second chapter if you ask nicely. ;