Title: Detention Never Was So Good
Author: Neda
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Category: Slash, Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and several publishers, including but not limited to Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and Raincoast. The movie is all Warner Brothers'. I am making no profit from this whatsoever. Snape and Harry don't belong to me, and no, sadly, I don't think that there's even a tenth of one in a million of a chance that they'd ever hook up in the books, but I can dream.
Dedication: To Rose, Kat and Sheena. Happy Very Late Birthdays, all of you! *blows kisses*
Detention Never Was So Good
"Mr. Potter, I do wish that you wouldn't break all my potion vials. I have enough stress in my life as it is without having to deal with another Longbottom." Snape's voice cut through the cold silence of the dungeons, sharp as a knife and just as deadly. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for violating school property." He watched Potter's face turn from its usual pallor to a bright red, which rather complimented his dark hair and made his adorably over-large glasses stand out even more on his ever more adorable face. Severus allowed himself a small moment of indulgence, during which he covered up his Stare of Appreciation and turned it into a Glare of Disapproval.
His moment, however, was cut short by Potter's outraged voice.
"It's only a small crack!" Harry angrily pushed his glasses up his nose (which only allowed Snape to secretly stare even more and wonder how Potter could look so wonderfully sexy without even knowing it) and attempted to match the Potions Professor's glare. "It's not even Ivisible/I!"
Snape scowled. "Five more points from Gryffindor for daring to argue with a teacher. Now be quiet before I take away fifty." Aah, the wonders of being a cruel bastard. There were no better comforts in life --besides the bottle of Vodka he kept secreted away for special occasions-- than torturing his students. Especially Potter. IParticularly/I Potter.
Harry frowned, but said nothing, choosing instead to concentrate on his work than to let out the string of lewd curses he'd been planning to let loose on his professor --which would inevitably make Snape take away the fifty that he'd been threatening.
He was serving a detention, although he had no idea why. Snape had just strode up to him last Tuesday in Potions and said, in that annoyingly silky voice, "Mr. Potter, I am tired of your incorrigibly incessant chatter and unfailing irresponsibility and incompetence to your work, not to mention your obsessive rudeness to Mr. Malfoy. You will serve me a detention on Saturday. Meet me in the dungeons after dinner." And then he strode off again, robes billowing ominously, leaving a befuddled Harry behind. Even Hermione (After having to explain to Ron what the words incorrigible, incessant, and incompetent meant.) had failed to figure out what he'd done wrong, as his grades had gone up considerably over the last year and Malfoy had hardly spoken more than three words to Harry after the word had spread to Gryffindor that Malfoy fancied him (The common room was in an uproar after this, much to Harry's utter embarrassment. Ron, particularly, had laughed his arse off.).
Snape had also been glaring… no, staring, at him since the start of seventh year. It wasn't that "I-am-evil-I-can-deduct-points!" type of stare, either. It was more like he was trying to figure Harry out. His eyes would sort of soften and turn into an onyx shade of black, and his facial features would become less severe, taking years away from his face, and --There, there! He was doing it again! Harry could see it out of the corner of his eye! Bloody hell, even his hair looked less greasy when he stared like that!
Harry quickly turned away so Snape wouldn't notice the blush creeping up his face (although he wondered if Snape could hear his heart thrumming wildly in his chest.), and concentrated on cleaning the row of potion vials laid out before him with an old rag. Of course, he didn't mind the stares coming from the Potions Master. It made him feel special. A bit like Snape knew he existed for a purpose other than being insulted by him. And he certainly didn't mind the detention. It gave him an excuse to be alone with his Potions Professor.
Mmm, blessed aloness. Now, the only problem was, he couldn't figure out what to say. Harry put down a shiny-clean vial and picked up another, and cleaned it with the rag. (He was of the opinion that detention would be much better if there wasn't any manual labor involved, as he would better be able to enjoy Snape's company this way…)
"You know… I'll be at the age of consent by next summer." Oh, crap. Did he just say that out loud?
Severus blinked. Potter. At the age of consent. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Harry was blushing. The shit had already hit the fan, so he might as well plow onward. "I said, 'I'll be at the--'"
"I know what you said, Potter. I mean, what brings up this refreshing change of conversation?"
Harry winced. The sarcasm was seeping from his professor, and Snape wasn't even trying to hide it. Harry momentarily cursed his professor's temper, before continuing. "Professor Snape?"
"Potter."
"Professor?"
"Potter?"
"Pro-fe-ssor?"
"Pot-ter?"
"Professor!"
"Potter! Out with it, before I'm overcome with the urge to force poison into your mouth!"
Harry opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it. Shut it. His teeth made an audible sound every time he closed it.
Severus, much to his amusement, found himself picturing Potter as a floundering goldfish, which was really what the raven-haired boy was looking like.
"Professor."
"Potter. I believe we've already been through this once."
"Er…" Harry paused. His heart did hopeful flip-flops in his chest. I'm not going to say it, I'm not going to say it, I'm not going to say it…. "ProfessorIminlovewithyou." His heart made one last feeble attempt at a flutter and died.
Blink. Pause. Severus Snape, Potions Master, King of All Things Unpleasantly Spoken, Hogwarts Reigning Champion of Sarcasm, was speechless. "Pardon?"
Harry's face was a tomato. The grocery aisle men would be coming to take him away any second now… "I'm. In. Love. With. You." … And he wished he had a book he could hide behind.
"Oh," said Snape. He blinked again. Then he did something Harry would have never thought possible. He blushed. "Oh. Oh." Some of his normal self must have been starting to come back to him, because the next thing he said was, "Potter, there's a little thing called tact. Have you ever heard of it? You should look it up, because maybe then you'd start to posses some." The blush seemed to be going down a bit. Too bad, thought Harry, it looked rather fetching on him. "You… fancy me?"
"Love," nodded Harry.
Snape muttered something that sounded like, "I hate detentions," before saying, "And you're telling me because…?"
"Er… Well, I just thought I'd tell you, because, you know, it wasn't doing me any good by not telling you, and I haven't told Ron or Hermione about it yet, because they'd probably Ilet/I Voldemort have a go at me, so I've kind of kept it all bottled up inside, and I didn't really mean to tell you, but I was trying to start up a conversation and I didn't know what to say but the silence was getting awkward so I just said it. I mean, it's not like I expect you to return the feeling, but I just thought that I should let you know or something…" He was rambling. Harry trailed off, feeling lost. "So, yes, I fancy you."
"…"
"I fancy you. Love. II/I love you! I Ilove/I you! I love Iyou!/I II l--"/I
"I heard you the first time, Mr. Potter, there's no need to repeat it." Severus still felt lost, but he was beginning to slowly get his bearings back.
"Erm, sorry, professor."
Severus glowered down at his student. He honestly didn't know what to say. Harry Potter was in love with him. In-bleeding-love! "When did this start?" …and where in bloody Merlin's name did that come?
Harry blinked owlishly, his emerald green eyes glinting behind his glasses. He tried to word his thoughts carefully. If he screwed this up, he ruined any remaining respect that the professor would have for him. And having Snape's respect mattered to him, it really did. "Er, well, I think it started during sixth year, when I saw you come back from a Death Eater meeting shaking from having Cruciatus done to you." He glanced at Snape, who only nodded, his arms folded across his chest. "…After that I began to think about all the pains you've gone through in order to make up for your… past…" he paused, wondering if he'd over-stepped his boundaries. Snape remained silent, however, and only stared at Harry impassively. "…Having to go to the meetings, at the risk of being found out as a spy and getting killed. And I thought of all the times you've saved me or helped out the Order, and gradually, even your cold demeanor was endearing to me. I made Professor Dumbledore tell me every time there was a Death Eater meeting, or when you had to go on missions, and you wouldn't believe how worried I was about you each time. I'd stand inside the Hogwarts gate in my invisibility cloak waiting for you, just to make sure you weren't hurt badly… I still do." Harry trailed off, then started up again. "For a long time, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't know why I couldn't. I'd be talking to Ron or Hermione and all of a sudden an image of you would pop up in my mind, writing grades down on your parchment, your hands making graceful flourishes and your face creased in concentration… and I found myself obsessed with your lips whenever you were lecturing, thinking about how it would feel if I could kiss them." That was it. He didn't have anything else to say. He was pretty sure he's just made an idiot of himself, but after the embarrassing "I love you!" comment, he didn't have much more to lose. He gave Snape a nervous half smile.
Severus stood still for a moment, wondering. A memory came to his mind, unbidden, of himself in the infirmary after he's suffered from a particularly bad round of torture courtesy of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was smiling kindly at him, and he'd been saying something, but Snape had been half unconscious then and couldn't make out everything. All he'd heard was, "Harry… you… the Hogwarts Lake… Voldemort… passed out… lucky to… alive, Severus…" He hadn't given it much thought then, assuming that Potter had been out where he wasn't supposed to be as if he owned the school, but now, of course, it all made perfect sense. Potter had been waiting for him, and when Severus had passed out he'd gotten help. In other words, he owed his life to yet another Potter. This time, however, Severus found himself unresentful of the fact.
He slowly walked up to Harry. Some vague part of his mind, which he tried to dispel, noted that Potter had grown taller since last summer. Their noses were almost touching, and Severus could feel the hitch in Potter's breathing at their closeness. Quietly, he whispered, "The age difference… doesn't bother you?"
Harry attempted to quiet his breathing and heart rate. He raised he head so he was looking directly into his professor's coal black eyes. Snape met his gaze evenly, unflinching. "No."
Severus found himself letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He took a step back, as if just noticing his closeness to his student. Potter followed him with his remarkably expressive eyes, which were now displaying… Hope? Affection? There were too many emotions Severus couldn't make out, and he found himself overwhelmed with the weight of Harry's gaze.
He remembered suddenly his own Hogwarts days, back when he was a studious Death Eater in training and had been good friends with Lucius Malfoy. He could recall, with distinction, his hate for the Marauders, which had left its residue even now in the present day. He wondered how, if he had hated James Potter so much, he could not even bring forth a strand of dislike for his son. No, Severus decided, father and son were completely different. Young Harry may look like his father, but their personalities were distinctly unmatched. Back in his day, James had been the sort to do anything for a laugh with his friends, and while Harry was the same way, there was an aura of difference about him. Perhaps it was the pain brought early on in his childhood, or his time spent with his despicable relatives, the Dursleys, or even the unfortunate change of events which had brought on Cedric Diggory's death. Whatever the matter, Harry was most definitely not his father, and…
"I love you, too." Severus whispered softly. He watched as happiness and surprise flickered into Harry's eyes. "However," he continued, this time in a normal tone of voice, "I am afraid that this---" He gestured between Harry and himself, "--cannot continue. I am a teacher, you are my student."
Harry looked away, in order to hide the crushed expression on his face away from Snape. He was to slow in doing so, though, because Severus caught it.
He raised a pale hand, ghostly in its gracefulness, and rested it against Harry's cheek, applying pressure so the emerald eyes were back into his field of vision. "Potter. You'll be at the age of consent in less than four months, and you will no longer be my student…"
Harry brightened considerably, his face visibly becoming lighter as he caught the gist of what his teacher was saying. "…And I've been offered a job here as the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…"
Snape smiled genuinely. "I am certain that I can convince Dumbledore to place your sleeping quarters relatively close to mine."
Harry mock-shuddered. "Ugh. Not in the dungeons. I think you'll have to move your quarters next to Imine/I…" Severus laughed; making it the first time ever that Harry saw the spectacle. And not the last, he vowed to himself. He decided that he rather liked making his teacher laugh.
"It's settled, then. You will teach here." Severus lowered his face to Harry's, allowing their foreheads to tough. "We can't kiss now, you know…"
Closing his eyes, Harry nodded. He sighed as Severus's breath ghosted against his lips. "I know. You and your teaching ethics…" he slid his arms around Snap's waist.
"But, I promise, I will do so on your Graduation day." Severus rested his head against Harry's messy black hair.
"Detention's over." said Harry. "I'll have to leave, or my friends will wonder where I am."
Severus was tempted to say, "Let them", but contained the impulse. Instead, he gave Harry a last swift embrace and stepped out of his arms. "Well, then. I shall see you in class on Monday. I do hope you can at least make an effort to pay attention in class?"
Harry laughed, unabashed. It seemed his uncontained whispering with Ron and Hermione had not gone unnoticed. "Yes, Severus!" he cried, saluting.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor for calling a Professor by his first name!" Harry blinked. "Um, sorry. Instant Gryffindor House Points reflex. I hope you won't be calling me that in class."
Pretending to look scandalized, Harry said, "Of course not! What will everyone think!"
"Good," said Severus. There was an awkward silence. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Potter."
"G'night," said Harry. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up at even messier angles. Severus resisted the urge to comb Harry's hair out with his fingers.
With one last forlorn glance at his professor, Harry turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving several half-cleaned potion vials behind him.
~*~
That day was a landmark. Harry's friends noticed that whenever Harry looked at a potion vial, a dreamy look would pass over his handsome features. For Snape, he was never able to give another student detention without a faint blush passing over his features.
For the members of both parties, however, it was generally decided that it was one of the best days of their lives.
Author: Neda
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Category: Slash, Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and several publishers, including but not limited to Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and Raincoast. The movie is all Warner Brothers'. I am making no profit from this whatsoever. Snape and Harry don't belong to me, and no, sadly, I don't think that there's even a tenth of one in a million of a chance that they'd ever hook up in the books, but I can dream.
Dedication: To Rose, Kat and Sheena. Happy Very Late Birthdays, all of you! *blows kisses*
Detention Never Was So Good
"Mr. Potter, I do wish that you wouldn't break all my potion vials. I have enough stress in my life as it is without having to deal with another Longbottom." Snape's voice cut through the cold silence of the dungeons, sharp as a knife and just as deadly. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for violating school property." He watched Potter's face turn from its usual pallor to a bright red, which rather complimented his dark hair and made his adorably over-large glasses stand out even more on his ever more adorable face. Severus allowed himself a small moment of indulgence, during which he covered up his Stare of Appreciation and turned it into a Glare of Disapproval.
His moment, however, was cut short by Potter's outraged voice.
"It's only a small crack!" Harry angrily pushed his glasses up his nose (which only allowed Snape to secretly stare even more and wonder how Potter could look so wonderfully sexy without even knowing it) and attempted to match the Potions Professor's glare. "It's not even Ivisible/I!"
Snape scowled. "Five more points from Gryffindor for daring to argue with a teacher. Now be quiet before I take away fifty." Aah, the wonders of being a cruel bastard. There were no better comforts in life --besides the bottle of Vodka he kept secreted away for special occasions-- than torturing his students. Especially Potter. IParticularly/I Potter.
Harry frowned, but said nothing, choosing instead to concentrate on his work than to let out the string of lewd curses he'd been planning to let loose on his professor --which would inevitably make Snape take away the fifty that he'd been threatening.
He was serving a detention, although he had no idea why. Snape had just strode up to him last Tuesday in Potions and said, in that annoyingly silky voice, "Mr. Potter, I am tired of your incorrigibly incessant chatter and unfailing irresponsibility and incompetence to your work, not to mention your obsessive rudeness to Mr. Malfoy. You will serve me a detention on Saturday. Meet me in the dungeons after dinner." And then he strode off again, robes billowing ominously, leaving a befuddled Harry behind. Even Hermione (After having to explain to Ron what the words incorrigible, incessant, and incompetent meant.) had failed to figure out what he'd done wrong, as his grades had gone up considerably over the last year and Malfoy had hardly spoken more than three words to Harry after the word had spread to Gryffindor that Malfoy fancied him (The common room was in an uproar after this, much to Harry's utter embarrassment. Ron, particularly, had laughed his arse off.).
Snape had also been glaring… no, staring, at him since the start of seventh year. It wasn't that "I-am-evil-I-can-deduct-points!" type of stare, either. It was more like he was trying to figure Harry out. His eyes would sort of soften and turn into an onyx shade of black, and his facial features would become less severe, taking years away from his face, and --There, there! He was doing it again! Harry could see it out of the corner of his eye! Bloody hell, even his hair looked less greasy when he stared like that!
Harry quickly turned away so Snape wouldn't notice the blush creeping up his face (although he wondered if Snape could hear his heart thrumming wildly in his chest.), and concentrated on cleaning the row of potion vials laid out before him with an old rag. Of course, he didn't mind the stares coming from the Potions Master. It made him feel special. A bit like Snape knew he existed for a purpose other than being insulted by him. And he certainly didn't mind the detention. It gave him an excuse to be alone with his Potions Professor.
Mmm, blessed aloness. Now, the only problem was, he couldn't figure out what to say. Harry put down a shiny-clean vial and picked up another, and cleaned it with the rag. (He was of the opinion that detention would be much better if there wasn't any manual labor involved, as he would better be able to enjoy Snape's company this way…)
"You know… I'll be at the age of consent by next summer." Oh, crap. Did he just say that out loud?
Severus blinked. Potter. At the age of consent. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Harry was blushing. The shit had already hit the fan, so he might as well plow onward. "I said, 'I'll be at the--'"
"I know what you said, Potter. I mean, what brings up this refreshing change of conversation?"
Harry winced. The sarcasm was seeping from his professor, and Snape wasn't even trying to hide it. Harry momentarily cursed his professor's temper, before continuing. "Professor Snape?"
"Potter."
"Professor?"
"Potter?"
"Pro-fe-ssor?"
"Pot-ter?"
"Professor!"
"Potter! Out with it, before I'm overcome with the urge to force poison into your mouth!"
Harry opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it. Shut it. His teeth made an audible sound every time he closed it.
Severus, much to his amusement, found himself picturing Potter as a floundering goldfish, which was really what the raven-haired boy was looking like.
"Professor."
"Potter. I believe we've already been through this once."
"Er…" Harry paused. His heart did hopeful flip-flops in his chest. I'm not going to say it, I'm not going to say it, I'm not going to say it…. "ProfessorIminlovewithyou." His heart made one last feeble attempt at a flutter and died.
Blink. Pause. Severus Snape, Potions Master, King of All Things Unpleasantly Spoken, Hogwarts Reigning Champion of Sarcasm, was speechless. "Pardon?"
Harry's face was a tomato. The grocery aisle men would be coming to take him away any second now… "I'm. In. Love. With. You." … And he wished he had a book he could hide behind.
"Oh," said Snape. He blinked again. Then he did something Harry would have never thought possible. He blushed. "Oh. Oh." Some of his normal self must have been starting to come back to him, because the next thing he said was, "Potter, there's a little thing called tact. Have you ever heard of it? You should look it up, because maybe then you'd start to posses some." The blush seemed to be going down a bit. Too bad, thought Harry, it looked rather fetching on him. "You… fancy me?"
"Love," nodded Harry.
Snape muttered something that sounded like, "I hate detentions," before saying, "And you're telling me because…?"
"Er… Well, I just thought I'd tell you, because, you know, it wasn't doing me any good by not telling you, and I haven't told Ron or Hermione about it yet, because they'd probably Ilet/I Voldemort have a go at me, so I've kind of kept it all bottled up inside, and I didn't really mean to tell you, but I was trying to start up a conversation and I didn't know what to say but the silence was getting awkward so I just said it. I mean, it's not like I expect you to return the feeling, but I just thought that I should let you know or something…" He was rambling. Harry trailed off, feeling lost. "So, yes, I fancy you."
"…"
"I fancy you. Love. II/I love you! I Ilove/I you! I love Iyou!/I II l--"/I
"I heard you the first time, Mr. Potter, there's no need to repeat it." Severus still felt lost, but he was beginning to slowly get his bearings back.
"Erm, sorry, professor."
Severus glowered down at his student. He honestly didn't know what to say. Harry Potter was in love with him. In-bleeding-love! "When did this start?" …and where in bloody Merlin's name did that come?
Harry blinked owlishly, his emerald green eyes glinting behind his glasses. He tried to word his thoughts carefully. If he screwed this up, he ruined any remaining respect that the professor would have for him. And having Snape's respect mattered to him, it really did. "Er, well, I think it started during sixth year, when I saw you come back from a Death Eater meeting shaking from having Cruciatus done to you." He glanced at Snape, who only nodded, his arms folded across his chest. "…After that I began to think about all the pains you've gone through in order to make up for your… past…" he paused, wondering if he'd over-stepped his boundaries. Snape remained silent, however, and only stared at Harry impassively. "…Having to go to the meetings, at the risk of being found out as a spy and getting killed. And I thought of all the times you've saved me or helped out the Order, and gradually, even your cold demeanor was endearing to me. I made Professor Dumbledore tell me every time there was a Death Eater meeting, or when you had to go on missions, and you wouldn't believe how worried I was about you each time. I'd stand inside the Hogwarts gate in my invisibility cloak waiting for you, just to make sure you weren't hurt badly… I still do." Harry trailed off, then started up again. "For a long time, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't know why I couldn't. I'd be talking to Ron or Hermione and all of a sudden an image of you would pop up in my mind, writing grades down on your parchment, your hands making graceful flourishes and your face creased in concentration… and I found myself obsessed with your lips whenever you were lecturing, thinking about how it would feel if I could kiss them." That was it. He didn't have anything else to say. He was pretty sure he's just made an idiot of himself, but after the embarrassing "I love you!" comment, he didn't have much more to lose. He gave Snape a nervous half smile.
Severus stood still for a moment, wondering. A memory came to his mind, unbidden, of himself in the infirmary after he's suffered from a particularly bad round of torture courtesy of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was smiling kindly at him, and he'd been saying something, but Snape had been half unconscious then and couldn't make out everything. All he'd heard was, "Harry… you… the Hogwarts Lake… Voldemort… passed out… lucky to… alive, Severus…" He hadn't given it much thought then, assuming that Potter had been out where he wasn't supposed to be as if he owned the school, but now, of course, it all made perfect sense. Potter had been waiting for him, and when Severus had passed out he'd gotten help. In other words, he owed his life to yet another Potter. This time, however, Severus found himself unresentful of the fact.
He slowly walked up to Harry. Some vague part of his mind, which he tried to dispel, noted that Potter had grown taller since last summer. Their noses were almost touching, and Severus could feel the hitch in Potter's breathing at their closeness. Quietly, he whispered, "The age difference… doesn't bother you?"
Harry attempted to quiet his breathing and heart rate. He raised he head so he was looking directly into his professor's coal black eyes. Snape met his gaze evenly, unflinching. "No."
Severus found himself letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He took a step back, as if just noticing his closeness to his student. Potter followed him with his remarkably expressive eyes, which were now displaying… Hope? Affection? There were too many emotions Severus couldn't make out, and he found himself overwhelmed with the weight of Harry's gaze.
He remembered suddenly his own Hogwarts days, back when he was a studious Death Eater in training and had been good friends with Lucius Malfoy. He could recall, with distinction, his hate for the Marauders, which had left its residue even now in the present day. He wondered how, if he had hated James Potter so much, he could not even bring forth a strand of dislike for his son. No, Severus decided, father and son were completely different. Young Harry may look like his father, but their personalities were distinctly unmatched. Back in his day, James had been the sort to do anything for a laugh with his friends, and while Harry was the same way, there was an aura of difference about him. Perhaps it was the pain brought early on in his childhood, or his time spent with his despicable relatives, the Dursleys, or even the unfortunate change of events which had brought on Cedric Diggory's death. Whatever the matter, Harry was most definitely not his father, and…
"I love you, too." Severus whispered softly. He watched as happiness and surprise flickered into Harry's eyes. "However," he continued, this time in a normal tone of voice, "I am afraid that this---" He gestured between Harry and himself, "--cannot continue. I am a teacher, you are my student."
Harry looked away, in order to hide the crushed expression on his face away from Snape. He was to slow in doing so, though, because Severus caught it.
He raised a pale hand, ghostly in its gracefulness, and rested it against Harry's cheek, applying pressure so the emerald eyes were back into his field of vision. "Potter. You'll be at the age of consent in less than four months, and you will no longer be my student…"
Harry brightened considerably, his face visibly becoming lighter as he caught the gist of what his teacher was saying. "…And I've been offered a job here as the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…"
Snape smiled genuinely. "I am certain that I can convince Dumbledore to place your sleeping quarters relatively close to mine."
Harry mock-shuddered. "Ugh. Not in the dungeons. I think you'll have to move your quarters next to Imine/I…" Severus laughed; making it the first time ever that Harry saw the spectacle. And not the last, he vowed to himself. He decided that he rather liked making his teacher laugh.
"It's settled, then. You will teach here." Severus lowered his face to Harry's, allowing their foreheads to tough. "We can't kiss now, you know…"
Closing his eyes, Harry nodded. He sighed as Severus's breath ghosted against his lips. "I know. You and your teaching ethics…" he slid his arms around Snap's waist.
"But, I promise, I will do so on your Graduation day." Severus rested his head against Harry's messy black hair.
"Detention's over." said Harry. "I'll have to leave, or my friends will wonder where I am."
Severus was tempted to say, "Let them", but contained the impulse. Instead, he gave Harry a last swift embrace and stepped out of his arms. "Well, then. I shall see you in class on Monday. I do hope you can at least make an effort to pay attention in class?"
Harry laughed, unabashed. It seemed his uncontained whispering with Ron and Hermione had not gone unnoticed. "Yes, Severus!" he cried, saluting.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor for calling a Professor by his first name!" Harry blinked. "Um, sorry. Instant Gryffindor House Points reflex. I hope you won't be calling me that in class."
Pretending to look scandalized, Harry said, "Of course not! What will everyone think!"
"Good," said Severus. There was an awkward silence. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Potter."
"G'night," said Harry. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up at even messier angles. Severus resisted the urge to comb Harry's hair out with his fingers.
With one last forlorn glance at his professor, Harry turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving several half-cleaned potion vials behind him.
~*~
That day was a landmark. Harry's friends noticed that whenever Harry looked at a potion vial, a dreamy look would pass over his handsome features. For Snape, he was never able to give another student detention without a faint blush passing over his features.
For the members of both parties, however, it was generally decided that it was one of the best days of their lives.