"Detention, Potter!" Snape's loud voice echoed throughout the dungeons. "This level of incompetency is new even for you."

The angry bubbling of Harry's botched potion appeared to agree with Snape's assessment.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said simply. His voice was even and calm. There was no subservience in his voice, but no undue anger or resentment either.

The other students left the classroom, and Snape did as well. Hermione, Ron and Harry remained alone. Harry collected his parchments and quills into his schoolbag. Next to him, Hermione was watching him with obvious concern.

"Harry, this is terrible," she protested. "He's mistreating you."

"He isn't," Harry said with a lighthearted grin. "He cares about me. I know it."

"Are you completely mental?" Ron demanded. "He's ..."

"He's emotionally abusing you, Harry," Hermione said with conviction. "You should complain to Dumbledore."

"There's nothing to complain about," Harry protested. "He's in love with me. I know it. Any day now, he'll fall at my feet and beg me to take him." Harry's green eyes twinkled mischievously. "You just need to read between the lines."

"Read between the lines," Ron echoed absently, and stared at Harry incredulously. "So when he says, Potter, you are an imbecile..."

"He really means, Harry, I expect a great deal from you, because you are brilliant and capable," Harry said, grinning.

"I see," Hermione murmured. "And when he says, you are arrogant, stupid and insufferable, just like your father..."

"He really means, I have forgiven your father years ago, and I would like us to start with a clean slate," Harry explained with absolute confidence. "You just need to know him like I do. Then you'll be able to see the meaning behind the words."

Hermione's cool hand touched Harry's forehead. "No fever," she muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

Ron nodded with conviction. "Imperius?"

"I think Harry finally went insane from the years of emotional abuse at Snape's hands. Stockholm syndrome." Hermione's face was that of calm compassion.

"I've got no syndrome!" Harry argued. "Snape loves me. I know it. He just doesn't know how to say it. But I know what he means, even if he doesn't."

"Oh dear god," Ron whispered. "This is bad. Real bad."

"Very very bad," Hermione agreed.

"Look, all you need to do is see the true meaning behind the words," Harry protested. "Like when he says, Potter I wish you would die already from your reckless stupidity, I know he really means, I admire your courage, Harry, even if it pains me and worries me to see you endanger yourself this way."

"Oh really?" Ron challenged, venom in his voice. "And when he says, Detention, Potter!? What does he mean by that?"

"That's easy," Harry said with a satisfied smile. "It simply means, Harry, bend me over my own desk, spank me, and fuck me hard, because I am yours, and always have been."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Hermione muttered, "Harry, you need to see a therapist right away."

"I need to go to my detention," Harry pointed out. "See you later."

"How could we have let it get so far, get so out of hand?" Ron whispered. "This is our fault. If we..."

"It's not your fault that Snape loves me," Harry said, hugged Ron, hugged Hermione, and departed quickly, leaving his speechless friends behind.

hr

Harry entered the dungeon and Snape glared at him from his desk.

"For the next two hours, you'll be cataloging Potions recipes," Snape advised him mirthlessly. "Who knows, maybe you will learn something, at last."

"Maybe," Harry agreed easily. "Thank you, Professor."

Snape's dark, cold eyes shot up and fixed on Harry's face.

"What are you playing at, Potter?" Severus demanded.

In absolute silence Harry stared at the man who had made his school life miserable for so many years. But it couldn't be any other way. Severus Snape was a spy for Voldemort. He wouldn't last long as a spy, would he, if he suddenly admitted his feelings of affection for Harry-bloody-Potter, and stopped favoring Tom Riddle's House, and started being fair to the Gryffindors... he did only what he had to do.

Still, actions spoke louder than words. The man saved his life too many times, protected him for too long, to make his contempt believable.

In three quick steps, Harry closed the distance between them and took a hold of Snape's – Severus's face. Harry's mouth latched onto Severus' and he kissed him deeply. The thin, angry lips parted to grant entrance, and for a split-second, Harry knew he was right ... until Snape spat Harry's tongue out of his mouth.

"T- Twenty-five points from Gryffindor!" Snape said, regaining his self-control almost instantly. "How dare you !!!"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "That's all right, you know. One of those days, the war will be over, and you'll be ready. Until then, I'll just continue to read between the lines."

The End