A/N: A new ficlet. Barely even a ficlet, to tell the truth. It's teeny tiny. But I think it's a gem of an idea. Not my best, but the general consensus so far has been good. My friends and I played e-mail tag with this one in our writer's Craft class… oh, the amount of actual work that gets accomplished in that class. We're so productive ;)
Anyway, I didn't write the song, nor did I create the characters. That's fairly obvious.
*Gasp* I wrote a songfic! GAH! I just couldn't resist… sue me! (No, please don't… I have nothing for you to take except an iMac (it's Sage! Woot!) and a ridiculously miscellaneous collection of CDs and musical instruments. And I'd like to keep it all)
Thanks goes to my Mom, who inadvertently inspired this fic by reminding me that this song existed, CC, who read this first, Jules, who actually admitted to liking a Snarry fic after reading (HA! I am GOOD!), and my darling Meg, who made me get off my ass and post (Here, already!).
Without further ado, here's the ficcage (Wreckage+Fic= Ficcage).
Teach Me Tonight
Snape watched out of the corner of his eye as the boy stretched to reach the top of the board. He knew he shouldn't; it was Potter, for Merlin's sake, but he couldn't help sneaking a peak, and that peak turned into full-fledged ogling. It was that backside, not Potter himself, that had the Potions master shifting in his seat, Snape told himself. He silently reprimanded himself for his complete lack of self-control, while simultaneously thanking the Gods for his remarkable restraint. The lithe young man writing lines at the board would have been in trouble had he been a more impulsive man. As it was, Snape simply watched Potter from behind, thinking all the while 'Only ten days 'til graduation, only ten days 'til graduation, only ten days…'
Harry could feel the Potions master's eyes on him. He hated when Snape stared at him like that… it made him completely unable to concentrate. Harry could make potions fairly well on his own; the reason he always did so badly in Snape's class was that whenever the older man stood over him, glowering in that special I-want-nothing-more-than-to-disembowel-you way that he did, Harry got extremely nervous and began to bung the whole thing up. In fact, at this very moment, Harry realized that he was once again getting confused by the Potions master's distracting staring. He looked up at the line he was supposed to be copying; "If I destroy another cauldron I will personally throw myself at the base of the whomping willow.", and then at the line he'd just written; "If I destroy another cauldron I will personally destroy another cauldron." He bit his lower lip and quickly rubbed the board with the sleeve of his robe, making the end of the line disappear and hastily correcting it. Snape had managed to make him nervous again. It wasn't fair. If it weren't for his over-active teenage libido Harry was sure he'd be able to function just fine around Snape. But there was something about the man, a strange sort of magnetism that made Harry a little stupid around him, like when he'd had too much butterbeer. His face would feel hot and he get extremely self-concious, and the harder he tried to act mature the more idiotic he'd become. He supposed it was the voice. Or perhaps the tall, dark and mysterious vibe. Or maybe it was the thought of what might be hidden beneath those many layers of black robes. Damn it, thought Harry as he looked up and realized he'd made another mistake. He needed to think of something other than Snape! He gazed longingly at his book bag.
"Professor?" He ventured without turning. Snape made an odd little noise and Harry heard the scraping of a chair.
"What is it, Potter? Arm tired already?"
"No…" Harry risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Snape was up now, and pacing. He seemed almost to glide over the uneven dungeon floor, making practically no noise. 'I was just wondering if I could listen to some music on my headphones while I write."
Snape gave a short, mordant chuckle. "Does this look like playtime in the Gryffindor common room to you, Potter?" He laughed again. "Absolutely not. Do you think I want to have to listen to what you, in your ignorance, consider to be music?"
Harry smiled at the board. "With all due respect, Sir, do you even know what headphones are?"
There was a dead pause, and then Snape made a scoffing noise. "Of course I know what they are, Potter. Don't change the subject." Harry heard Snape sit down and begin flipping through some poor Hufflepuff's essay, and that was the end of the discussion.
Harry set his jaw. I HAVE to think of something else, he though desperately. Concentrate, concentrate… But it was no use. Harry's mind was in one place and one place only. That's it… I have to do something about this. This ends now.
After a few minutes of attempting to read a Hufflepuff third-year's essay on pain potions and failing, Snape went back to his Harry-watching (well, actually, he wasn't really watching Harry, just his backside, he reminded himself. It could have been anyone's backside, really… all that mattered was that it was a nice one.) After a while, Snape became aware of a faint musical sound. At first he thought Potter had defied him and gotten out those fool muggle contraptions he'd been talking about earlier, and then he realized that the boy was humming quietly to himself. Snape's first instinct was to stop the boy immediately, but the harsh reprimand died on his lips and he opted instead to listen quietly for a moment. He almost fell off his chair when he realized what Potter was humming. And old Muggle song… Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston, if memory served him… Frank Sinatra also did a version with one of those sister acts… Snape recalled the lyrics almost immediately.
Did you say I've got a lot to learn?
Well don't think I'm trying not to learn
Since this is the perfect spot to learn
Teach me tonight
Starting with the ABC of it
Right down to the XYZ of it
Help me solve the mystery of it
Teach me tonight
"Potter!" Snape said very loudly and abruptly. "There will be no humming in detention!"
"Sorry sir." Harry bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. He'd been wondering when he'd get caught. No humming, huh? Harry shook his head. It was risky but… he couldn't help it. He began to sing, very, very quietly.
"The sky's a blackboard high above you
If a shooting star goes by
I'll use that star to write I l--"
"POTTER!!" Harry spun around. A very frazzled Snape was standing beside his desk, Hufflepuff essays strewn across the floor.
"That. Is. Enough."
"Yes sir. Sorry sir." He turned back around and raised the chalk to the blackboard again, a slow, sly smile snaking into his face. "A thousand times across the sky. One thing isn't very clear, my love…" Harry stopped abruptly as Snape grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him around and slammed him into the chalkboard. The Potions master looked dangerous. And desperate. And Harry was past caring about the consequences of his actions.
"Potter, I am warning you…"
"Should the teacher stand so near, my love?" Snape made a funny choking noise, and Harry quirked an eyebrow.
"Potter, stop this right now, or so help me God I will--"
"You'll what? Graduation's almost here, my love…"
"Oh--" Snape made several angry noises."
"Oh what? Teach me tonight."
"Oh fuck." Snape looked as though he might slap Harry, and so the boy braced himself. Instead, the Potions Master kissed him. It was a hard, bruising, desperate kiss, and Harry had to lean against the chalkboard to steady himself. When the kiss was over, Harry nearly fell to the ground. Snape was regarding him cautiously.
"Oh wow," Harry managed to mutter. He was just beginning to trust the other man to hold him up when he was suddenly dropped, and Snape began to stride purposefully back to his desk. "What the hell?" Harry got shakily to his feet. "Snape--"
"That," Snape began, cutting him off, "Is what you get for singing that infernal song. And it's Professor Snape, thank you. Back to work."
"Back to work, Potter."
Harry just stood there, frozen in shock. "But… you can't just leave me like… like this."
Snape fought the urge to grin evilly. "You were deliberately teasing me. It's my turn." Harry's jaw dropped open. "And keep your mouth closed, Potter, or I may have to reconsider."
"So what am I supposed to do now?"
"Well…" Snape put down his quill and seemed to truly consider this. "Like you said, graduation's almost here." He looked over at Harry and almost smiled. "I think you can wait ten days. Now, back to work."
Harry felt a smile bursting onto his lips as he turned back around and began to write. Only ten days 'til graduation…