Authors Notes:Cute little Harry/Snape story that started out as a un-beta'd drabble on my livejournal and turned out into an un-beta'd drabble in my livejournal for you people.
Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter, only this story and stuff.
What lips can't say
The entire great hall was filled with excited seventh years and enthralled professors and parents alike. The windows were carefully decorated with house colors, the walls were designed with flags and banners of congratulations. Even the Slytherins were in a rowdy mood compared to their deep thinking characteristics they all held. The entire school was ceased away for only seventh year to enjoy.
And after seven years of studying and hard work, they deserved it. They were finally graduating and getting rid of all those morning they had to wake up for classes. All those days they had to deal with writing long parchments full of stuff they could really care less of. The essays the had to bull-shit for Divisions. Even worse, all those times they had to spend detention with Professor Snape.
And in a few hours they would no longer have to call him Professor Snape. Nonetheless see him. But while the headmaster played music, and candy was passed around. Snape sat at the teachers table, staring about. His black eyes never left for the party, nor the thin line on his lips never parted. He didn't want to be here at all this evening. It was a waste of time in his mind, to give these 'foolish' students some sort of party for what they barely passed.
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were at the drink table, exchanging these things called yearbooks which Dumbledore bought for each of the seventh years. To help and cherish the past and bring brightness to the future. And in almost everyone's opinions, they were really rather fun. They got to write down their favorite past events, or even tell what they thought of another person.. It was like magic, without the wands.
"I'm going to go get some of the teachers." Hermione smiled as she snatched up her yearbook, eyeing both the boys as they almost seemed to lose their minds at her words.
"Hermione." Ron said softly before taking a step closer to Hermione. "We've told you before. After you get out of school, you don't have to listen to teachers anymore."
Hermione groaned at Ron's words and sharply turned to face the teachers table and walked forth. Harry and Ron immediately exchanged nervous glances and a small gulp could be heard from Ron's throat as Harry nodded. After seven years, they all got to an understanding that they did everything together. Harry first, and Ron hesitantly behind him, followed Hermione up to the teachers table.
At the front were on Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. Everyone would be most joyous to sign the three students books besides Snape. Would Snape even sign theirs? He hadn't even signed a Slytherin's yet. But none had even taken an attempt to ask him to do so. Perhaps they were waiting for later, when they had their special Slytherin party. Which was happily paid for by Draco Malfoy.
"I got McGonagall." Ron mumbled and pushed past Harry as he saw Hermione go to Dumbledore. Harry looked almost dead as he noticed that he would go to Snape. He didn't have to go and ask him to sign his yearbook. But it would seem odd for him to just sit out while the rest of his friends were getting the two other professors to sign theirs. Harry looked around nervously to see if any other teachers were around before walking forth to the teachers table, and look upon Snape.
"Excuse me, sir?" Harry whispered quietly, trying not to draw attention. Snapes eyes flashed to meet Harry's eyes. Sure they had to face seven years together in one school, and even help take down the dark lord in more then one occasion. But they were surely not friends. They weren't exactly enemies either. They noted each other, and had their brawls. But they became accustomed that neither were leaving. Until now.
"Yes, Potter?" Snape snarled at the boy, looking in disgust at the yearbook he held. Harry's hand pushed it forward onto the table, a quill inside on a page which supposedly was for signatures.
"Can you sign my yearbook, sir?" Harry asked, looking almost as nervously as he had when he first met Snape. All those times he couldn't answer the potion masters questions. Every time Harry broke a beaker, or had problems with his potions. Each time Harry served detention because of his little accidents which didn't seem like accidents, only Slytherin caused. Harry's face paused as Snape took the book from the table and looked over it.
"Going to miss me then, Potter?" Snape asked before flipping open the page to where the quill was. Before his eyes were hundreds of signatures and words from all his friends; which to him, seemed like practically the whole school. There were spells and enchantments floating over the book, adding some excitement to the phrases that floated on each page.
But Harry didn't answer the question. He just watched. Snape picked up the quill and thought for a second. His eyes closing as he pictured something to say to the boy who caused him seven years of trouble. Seven years of problems. Seven years wishing that he could be dead. Snapes eyes immediately opened at that thought and quickly scribbled something into the book.
The words only took a few seconds to write down, and the quill was placed back into the book before Snape snapped it closed. Harry took the book back into his hands, rather shakily and looked at the potions master before nodding. "Thank you sir." Harry quickly opened the book and gathered to the page where Snape had written.
But the words weren't what Harry had expected at all. The quill dropped from Harry's hand, and the book fell to the table making a loud snap. Harry's eyes looked up to the table, where the potions master use to sit. But he was no longer there. The chair was still there, but Snapes body had left and disappeared from it's presence. Harry's eyes leered down at the book again, and gave that look of shock it held the first time he read the words.
'What my lips cannot say, I'm truly glad the boy who lived, did live. -- S. Snape'