My second Snarry! Woohoo x3
Disclaimer: I don't own HP xD.
Warning: I did just say tis my second Snarry. So, Snarry and slash haters, leave before you flame :O
--
The Great Hall, during meal times, buzzed with merriment. The sounds of the students' chatter clashed nicely against the rhythmic slap of utensils as they cut, poked, mashed, scooped, gobbled and spooned their meals. It was the noisiest times, especially during feasts, although not unpleasant.
Today, however, it was as quiet as a well.
Although whether a well could be quiet is a matter of opinion and, in this case, the sanity of the author. Let us proceed with the knowledge that, the Great Hall, was as quiet as quiet could be. The only thing that could be heard was the thunder from the enchanted ceiling, which cackled ominously above the population of Hogwarts.
The students were shocked. It was the type of shock that gives you a temporary paralysis. It was the type of shock that leaves your mouth open wide for bugs to fly into. It was the type of shock that even Voldemort wouldn't be able to handle, if he was still alive.
Even the teachers were surprised; Flitwick nearly fainted. Traweleny claimed that this was a sign of danger ahead since it had not been predicted by the Inner Eye.
"Pinch me, Hermione. I must be hallucinating," Ron whispered, clenching his fork tightly, eyes as wide as saucers. Hermione ignored him, straining very hard not to stare but failing miserably. Harry glanced around the Great Hal, drinking up everyone's shocked faces. Even the Slytherins were blown away by this.
"I'm afraid you're not hallucinating, Ron," Harry delivered the sad news. Unless of course everyone happened to have conjured the same image.
Only two people seemed unaffected: Dumbledore and Snape. The former probably saw this coming anyway so it doesn't matter. As for the latter..
Well, it was the latter's fault for creating such confusion.
After all, no one had ever seen Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Bastard Extraordinaire, smile. Like a Cheshire cat. Ears sprouting out happiness.
Harry found himself willingly ogling along with his schoolmates.
--
The Great Hall was used to hearing things. Over the years it had sheltered students, it had heard numerous stories, theories, gossips and rumors thrown about like a Quaffle.
But never had it heard gossip about one person be thrown back and forth as much, or as fast, as today. He even beat Harry freaking Potter!
"He whistled! He fucking whistled this happy little tune—"
"He asked me if I could please cut my ginger roots more evenly. Did you hear? He didn't demand, he requested—"
"Mister Copperfield, he called me. Not git, not dunderhead—"
"He— I thought I was going to die! I hadn't finished on time, and he just waved it off, saying he understood things like this happened all the time—"
"He greeted me. I ran across him on my way to Defense. I thought he'd give me detention for even looking at him but noo—"
"He rewarded Gryffindor house points although—"
"Blimey, wish we had Potions today," Ron grumbled, as the buzzing noise wavered to no end.
"You just want the house points," Hermione tsk-ed disapprovingly.
"I wouldn't mind having Potions today. He might reckon giving me a couple of points after all the years he's taken off from me," Neville remarked gloomily, staring hopelessly at the ceiling.
"Don't get your hopes down, Neville. Maybe he'd still be like this tomorrow," Ron said comfortingly. He glanced up and saw Harry staring at Snape, who was currently engaged in an animated conversation with Professor Sprouts, who hadn't bothered to hide her look of faint amazement.
"Mental, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, not bothering to look away.
The day sped on uneventfully, save for the miracle that dawned upon Snape. More rumors circulated around the school, mostly about he ended up like that.
"Bet you he got laid," Fred-or-George announced in the Common Room. Several students expressed their disgust.
"Bet you ten Galleons it's because he murdered someone," Lee replied jokingly.
--
Later that evening, when everyone was asleep, Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak; he was going on an adventure, one that Ron or Hermione did not need to know off (although he'd be a Chocloate Frog if they didn't suspect it).
The trip to the dungeons was swift and, soon enough, a voice behind the door told him to blindly come in, which was enough to scare Harry. He was a Gryffindor, however, and put on his bravest face as he stepped into the threshold.
"All right, I think I deserve a confession. We've been fucking like bunnies for almost two years and never have I seen you this happy. What's up?" Harry greeted as he took off the cloak. Snape looked up from the potion he was brewing and frowned.
"Was I that obvious?" he asked. Harry wanted to roll around and die from laughter.
"What kind of a question is that? You had the entire school whispering about how you picked up some acute virus that washed away cruelty, and you hadn't noticed?" he shrieked. Harry blushed and coughed embarrassingly into his hand. Some man he was. At least it got Snape's attention.
The Potions Master paled and turned back to his potion. Harry settled himself on the padded armchair he'd come to love and Accio-ed some whiskey.
"How bad was it?" Snape finally asked, diminishing the fire underneath the cauldron.
"Neville wanted to have Potions today. Oh my God, you've made students want to have Potions! Even Professor McGonagall ogled!"
Harry so wanted to take a photograph of Snape's mortified face and sell it all over the school; he should have taken Colin's camera as well.
"So, uh, will you tell me now? I might be able to help," Harry suggested with a big grin on his face. Snape looked at Harry with That Face. The one he wore often during the war. It said: I don't trust you Potter but I suppose I have to. Snape then turned about and rummaged for something in his drawer. He came back carrying a velvet pouch.
"Mother finally owled me back after a year of silence," Snape started. He kneeled in front of Harry, shaking the contents of the pouch onto his palms. Two ruby studded rings popped out.
Harry gasped! Harry gapped! He couldn't believe it!
"Are those her—"
"Yes, hers and father's," Snape replied with contained excitement.
"Does this mean we can—"
"Yes, this means we can have your fantasy Muggle wedding, whenever you want to, with the cake in the shape of a Snitch, made by Molly. You can have the men as your flower girls and brides maids. Granger can be your best man, not just Weasley and Dumbledore can officiate the wedding although I'm still going to try and convince you otherwise. No, I don't want our— ah— honeymoon," Snape sneered at the word. "on a beach but I will indulge you since you've never been to one. We'll live wherever suitable, even if I have to retire teaching, Thank Merlin."
"So, you're asking me to—"
"Yes Potter, I suppose I am asking you to marry me."
Harry lunged at Snape kissing his favorite Snape all over. "You know, I'd always thought it'd be more dramatic then that," he admitted sheepishly.
"Not to worry, I'm sure the sex will make up for it."
--
The next day, Harry's grin was as wide as Snape's.
--
The End! I'd always thought that it'd make sense if Snape's parents were to be married muggle style. This is the fanfic I come up with after reading to many HarryandSnapearemarried fanfics xD. Hope you enjoyed it!