I loathe you. I hate you. So please, let me kiss you.

WANRINGS: Anal, Oral (not overly graphic, but still…. Heh heh)

Disclaimer: I've checked. I've gone and asked them. I've constantly wondered. But, as it is, it seems I still don't own Harry Potter.

Summary: What happens when you are Harry Potter stuck in a dark, cramped closet and smooshed up against your hated Potions Professor for hours? Snarry. One-Shot

A/N: This is about the same kind of mood I was in when I wrote "Sorry Mate", except I was a little more playful in this one. This is a ONE-SHOT and was written purely for the enjoyment of lovely Snarry smut. If you don't like tasty Male/Male situations, leave and consider your mischief managed.

Let me Kiss You

Harry scowled and grumbled angrily as he traveled down the corridor to the dungeons. "Blasted, bloody, greasy git," he growled, not really knowing why he was talking to himself.

He was, of course, going to yet another after-dinner detention with Snape; and he was not at all happy about it.

'I wonder what he's gonna make me do this time,' Harry wondered morbidly, 'Scrub cauldrons, organize ingredients, write that I'm an idiot one thousand times?' Harry grimaced and stomped his way down into the dungeons. Stopping for a moment, he hesitated, realizing that he didn't need to alert the Slytherins of his arrival. Malfoy would have a heyday at the fact that he had another detention. Continuing, more quietly this time, he walked slowly towards Snape's office, only to start silently jogging and mentally cursing when he realized he was two minutes late.

He stopped at Snape's door and regained his composure. He may have been late, but he wasn't going to storm in all out of breath and panting. He didn't need to give Snape more things to make fun of him about.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The classroom was as cold and gloomy as ever; the torch lights flickering along the stone walls in a dance of light and shadow. The same disgusting jars lined the shelves along the walls and the same greasy, cold, gloomy Potion's Professor sat at the desk at the front of the room, glaring at Harry and sneering a sneer that could kill small Hufflepuffs.

"So nice of you to join me, Potter," Snape said smoothly, the firelight flashing across his face.

"Sorry I'm late Professor," Harry said, trying desperately to keep his temper in check.

"Yes, well, you seem to make it a habit," Snape hissed, "If you're truly so sorry about it, you wouldn't continuously keep on doing, would you, Mister Potter? Then again, you wouldn't be getting detentions in the first place; but as an insufferable Gryffindor, I guess you can't help it."

Harry glared, but said nothing. It was the same every day. Snape tortures him, gives him detention, insults him, tortures him some more, insults him one more time for good measure, is nasty while in detention, is nasty while giving orders in detention, and is nasty while Harry leaves after him giving orders in detention. Then the vicious cycle repeats itself the next day.

When he got no response from Harry, Snape rose and picked up a few papers. "We will be doing something a bit different today, Potter," he stated, walking out from behind his desk to a door to the right of the classroom, "This door," he gestured to it to convey his meaning, "Is the door to my personal chambers." Harry's eyebrows rose. "And we will be working from in there. Now," His glare turned hard as he narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously, "I don't trust you in the least, but I hope that I can at least expect for you not to breathe a word about what we do, or what you see in my chambers. I do not wish to take you in to the only place that hasn't yet been marred by your golden hands, but I have no choice, as the numerous items we need reside in the room and are quite impossible to bring in here." He paused, breathing in before continuing. "Can I possibly hope to fathom that you might once show me the respect I deserve and keep your tongue in check while around your annoying little friends?"

Harry scowled, but nodded.

"I need a verbal agreement from you, Mister Potter," Snape drawled.

"Fine. I won't tell my friends. Unless you try to chop me up for potions ingredients, then I might have to tell them, you know?" Harry's sarcasm was dripping, but his face was angry.

Snape chuckled mirthlessly and his expression grew cold. "Yes, well. Many people seem to think that's what I do to you down here. However, you know that is not the case, so I'm afraid I will have to take ten points from Gryffindor because of your cheek."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape waved it off. "Let's go, shall we. I, unlike you, do not particularly enjoy detentions; especially with you. If you don't mind, I'd like to get this over with." With that, he opened the door and walked inside, Harry following hesitantly behind.

Snape's chambers were only partially how Harry had pictured them. Although there were indeed shelves of potion's ingredients, they were only in a small corner of the room; and though there was actually Slytherin colored decorations, it was not the majority, and contrasts of maroon, beige, and mahogany nicely pulled the rooms together. The room was not cozy, but comfortable; with a fire flickering beneath the mantel, shiny wooden furniture, and dark, red armchairs.

"For how long will you continue to stare around the living room, Mister Potter?" Snape growled, jerking Harry out of his trance, "We need to get started."

Harry nodded and followed Snape to a heavy wooden door off to the left and past the fireplace. Snape pulled the door open and revealed a narrow stairway that spiraled downward into darkness. Harry gulped audibly.

"No need to worry Potter," Snape said lazily, "It's not a torture chamber. It's merely my personal potions lab."

Harry relaxed a bit. A personal potions lab? Well, that was to be expected, considering Snape was the Potion's Master.

Following his professor down the steep stairs, he braced himself for the chilling dungeon air and dank smelling stones…. that never came. Looking around, Harry found himself in a warm, basement-type area. It did have stone walls, but they seemed clean and not dank at all. It was definitely no place to lounge, but it was an enjoyable work area; having two large tables with cauldrons, notes, and supplies in the middle, a long couch at one end of the room, quite a few chairs, a great deal of storage cupboards, and a large desk covered in papers.

Harry jumped as he heard a loud bang and spun around to see Snape placing a rather large cauldron on one of the tables. Figuring the next parts would involve him, Harry walked over and waited expectantly for orders. After a few more moments of situating and gathering a few more items, Snape turned to face Harry. "We will be making a potion, Potter," he said, "It's an important one, so try not to botch it up. I've never made it before, so it will be quite difficult and tedious. Yet, I need help with it, and although your Potion's grades are utterly dismal, I know you're not wholly incompetent."

Harry's eyebrows raised. Had Snape just given him a compliment? Yes, but it was backhanded.

"What's it for, sir?" Harry asked.

"None of you business Potter," Snape spat suddenly, turning away.

Taken aback, Harry's ire rose. "I just wanted to know what I'd be making," he shouted, "You don't have to be nasty all the time Snape."

Snape turned back around and scowled. "Remember, don't inform anyone of this potion. With that said, let's get started."

Harry frowned at the quick change of subject, but decided to let it go for now. Snape showed him the instructions and gave him a list of ingredients to get around the room while he prepped the cauldron and re-read the notes, and Harry set off to gather up the items.

One by one, he placed the ingredients on the table and went to find the next one off the list. Finally, he had one left: Crushed Crystals. Harry paused. He hadn't remembered seeing any of those. "Er… Professor?"

Snape looked up and cocked a brow. "What is it, Potter?"

"Where are the crystals?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the list of ingredients.

"That closet over there," Snape replied, pointing at a small cupboard.

Harry nodded. "Thanks." Turning towards the cupboard, he opened it to find that although it was the largest closet in the room, it could only fit about one and a half people. But that would be quite strange, so Harry settled for saying it could fit one person. Also different from the other cupboards, was the fact that it was virtually empty, excepting a high shelf with a few boxes atop it.

Figuring that was where the crystals were, Harry stood on his toes and reached for a box. 'How bloody high is this closet?' he wondered. Although it was only about three feat wide and six feet long, the closet's height was a good seven and a half feet. Why would Snape put ingredients up that high?

Giving up and cheeks flushed from strain and embarrassment. Harry turned and spoke quietly, "Pro-professor?" Snape looked up once again, agitated. "I can't reach it." Harry had never felt short before. He was 5'10, which he thought was pretty good for a sixteen year-old. Sadly, 5'10'' was not nearly tall enough to reach a 7'0'' shelf. Suddenly, Harry realized with horror that he could have merely summoned the box with his wand. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the scathing comment from Snape. Instead, he jumped as he felt something brush along his side, and opened his eyes to see Snape reaching for the box. Startled, Harry stumbled backwards and lost his balance. Grabbing onto the door handle to steady himself, he then fell forward into Snape, the door still in his grasp as they both fell into the closet, the door slamming with a thud behind them.

Horrified, Harry realized that he was laying on top of the professor, who was breathing stiffly underneath him.

"Get. Off. Me. Potter," Snape growled dangerously. Harry would have gladly complied, if it were not for the fact that the closet was so small.

Struggling, Harry tried to placed his hands on stone to push himself up, only finding the teacher's body everywhere he touched. He could just die right there. He felt Snape's hand placed firmly on his chest and push him upwards. The only thing was, they had not realized that in the struggle their legs had been tangled and Harry fell sideways as Snape sat up. This left them in an even more awkward position.

Both their backs were pressed into the walls on the opposite sides of the closet, their chests pinned together. Harry knew Snape's face was directly in front of his, for he could feel the man's warm breath on his mouth. He didn't dare move, for fear that it would cause their faces to touch. A shiver ran down his spine as Snape merely continued to breathe. He could feel the man's eyes boring into his own, and he looked away, even though he could see nothing.

Snape grabbed him by the arms removed them from their sandwiched state. Moving towards the door, the Potion's Master jiggled the handle only to find that it was locked.

"Why don't you try using a spell on it sir?" Harry asked timidly, still shaken from being pressed up against the professor.

"It would be worthless," Snape replied coolly, "I spell these doors so that no one can get into my personal stores without a password….. said from the outside."

Harry groaned. Great, so now he was trapped in a tiny closet with the dreaded greasy git of Hogwarts. Lovely. Bloody brilliant. "What do we do then?" Harry asked.

Snape turned away from the door. "We wait until someone comes down here."

"That could take forever!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape snorted. "Brilliant deduction Potter. Although I'm sure that the Headmaster won't let his little prodigy stay missing for long," he scoffed, "I applaud you. We hadn't even started the potion yet, and you've already managed to bollux it up."

Harry glared into the darkness. "It's not my fault you have a seven-foot tall shelf!"

"You could have just summoned it you nitwit! Now move your leg so I can sit down."

Harry blushed and complied, moving his knees up to his chest. Snape sat down with his back to the door, facing Harry. Neither of them spoke.


Soon enough, Harry found that you can't stay in the fetal position for long amounts of time. His legs were falling asleep and his bum was terribly sore. They had only been in the cupboard for forty-five minutes, and it had already seemed like an eternity. Harry hadn't heard a sound except Snape's steady breathing and it was getting unnerving.

Scared that he would touch the teacher if he moved, but more scared that he'd lose his legs, Harry timidly stretched out his legs. He bumped into something that could have only been Snape's leg and he froze, petrified that Snape would chop his head off.

Nothing happened and, for some reason, Harry felt the urge to be daring. Slowly and ever so gently, he relaxed his legs and rested them against the legs on either side of his. Snape's leg's were stretched out as well, and opened a little wider than Harry's. He didn't move when Harry's legs rest against the inside of his, pressing up against his pants and relaxing.

Harry's heart was racing from the contact. Why had Snape done nothing? He was expecting to be hexed into oblivion. Maybe Snape was asleep. To test this theory, Harry whispered his teacher's name.

"What, Potter?" came the drawling reply.

Nope. He was awake. Trying not to concentrate on his sweaty palms and butterflies in his stomach, Harry decided to say something. He didn't want to admit he was feeling this way at all with his professor, so he tried to drown out his thoughts with speech. "What was the potion for?"

There was silence.

"I really am just curious," Harry pressed lightly, "I promise I won't tell anyone."

More silence.


"It was to get rid of my dark mark."

Harry knew Snape had felt him tense, but he relaxed quickly and sighed. "Sorry I got us trapped in here," Harry said quietly.

"It probably wouldn't have worked anyway," Snape replied in a whisper.

"Hadn't it ever been tested? Harry asked.

Snape rubbed his temples. "I invented it," he stated, "So no one even knows it exists."

Harry spoke before he could help himself. "Seriously?" he said, genuinely interested, "I could never invent something like that. How long did it take you?"

Startled by Harry's sudden interest, Snape was silent for a moment. "I…. It took a few years actually," he said, "Five, to be exact." He wasn't sure how much he wanted to say, in case Harry was just pretending.

"Really?" Harry sounded astounded, "How did you do it? I mean, how do you know that it will take the mark off?"

"I don't," Snape replied simply, "Yet it's a little more than just hoping the ingredients work. You have to think of the effects of each ingredient. If they cancel each other out or strengthen them. The effects each part will have on the drinker…"

For almost two hours, Snape continued to explain the process he had used to make the potion. He spoke of the effects of each ingredient, the logic of the combinations, the desired effect, and every other detail he could remember without having his notes. To his surprise, Harry had seemed truly interested. For the entirety of the conversation, the boy had continuously asked questions or made comments. He had even made suggestions that astounded the Potion's Professor. Since when was the Boy Who Lived so interested in potions?

As they had talked, they had slowly moved around the closet, trying to stay comfortable. Hardly worried about touching anymore, Harry was now sitting towards the middle of the closet, his back against the side wall and knees bent to accommodate the small space. Snape's legs were slightly bent and lay underneath the triangular archway of Harry's legs, his knees softly touching the back of Harry's as he laid back, propped up by his elbows.

"Why are you so interested in Potions?" Snape asked suddenly, "I thought you hated the subject."
"Harry laughed softly. "Well I'll have to admit that it's not my favorite subject, but that's probably a lot because you hate me so much." Snape winced into the darkness. "I actually find it kind of enjoyable sometimes. I just think it's so interesting how you can make almost anything out of ingredients. Heck, you can even grow bones back! I thought that was really cool. Your ideas are really incredible. I never would have thought of such things."

"Er… thanks," Snape said slowly. He took a deep breath and muttered, "I don't hate you."

"What?" Harry asked, turning towards the voice curiously.

"I don't hate you," Snape repeated, "I just find you insufferable and annoying; but I don't hate you."

"I don't know how to take that," Harry stated, pondering it for a moment. "That's like saying I don't like sweets, but I eat them anyway."

"Interesting analogy," Snape chuckled, "Strange, but interesting."

"Well I don't hate you either," Harry said, "I just think you're a little over the top, is all. Why do you have to treat me so harshly, if you don't hate me?"

"How do you think the Dark Lord would react if Mister Malfoy came to him saying I was good pals with Harry Potter? I don't think he'd take it well. Not to mention it would ruin my reputation." He sneered jokingly.

"I didn't say you'd have to be all chummy with me," Harry answered, "I'm just saying that you don't have to treat me five-thousand times worse than everyone else."

"You know it's more than just that, Potter. I can't just forg-"

"I know you can't forget!" Harry interrupted, "I'm not asking you to forget what my dad did to you. I'm only saying that I'm not him, and I wish you could remember that."

"I do remember that, Mister Potter," Snape sighed, "It's not just him either…"

"Well what is it then?" Harry asked heatedly, "Why can't you be nicer to me? If it's not just Tom or my father, than what's the problem?"

"I need to stand up," Snape said suddenly. Harry could tell he was avoiding the question. Pushing himself up, Snape stretched his legs and twisted his back. Sitting in there was starting to take its toll.

"Could you help me up?" Harry asked. His legs were tired and he didn't feel like he had the strength.

"Sure." Snape reached down his hand until it found Harry's. He grasped the teen's hand and pulled, only to find that he hadn't been ready for the weight and he fell forward, landing fully on top of Harry.

With their bodies pressed a little too firmly together, Snape intended to move, get up, or something; but he just…. couldn't. Harry's breath came in short, warm puffs against his lips. He could feel the student's heartbeat against his chest and the leg that shifted between his own. His head was lowering against his will. Without thought or intention, his lips found Harry's and kissed them firmly, not moving his lips at all as he relished the feel of the young man's lips against his own.

Snape closed his eyes and tensed as Harry's lips began to move. He was kissing him back! Snape was dizzy and enthralled. It barely felt as if it was real. They continued to kiss slowly and tenderly for several minutes; their hands roaming over each other's bodies in exploration.

Snape didn't want to come to his senses. He didn't want to realize what he was doing and pull away; but he did. Harry sighed wistfully as the contact was broken.

"I'm sorry," Snape said, uncharacteristically sad, "I didn't mean t-"

"I kissed you back, you git," Harry replied, "Don't act like I'm some manipulated little boy. I know perfectly well what I'm doing. Don't insult me by thinking otherwise."

"But why? Why would you want to kiss me out of all people?" Snape was confused. He had long harbored an attraction for Potter, but he had never acted on it. He remained nasty towards the boy, in hopes that it would drive him away.

"I don't know," replied Harry honestly, "I honestly don't. But as soon as we touched it felt right. I can't explain it. But I know my feelings. And I DON'T want to kiss you. At least, not just that."

Snape's question was answered before he even asked it as he felt a bulge pressing into his thigh. His body quickly had a reaction and he was positive Harry knew full well that this was true. As if to emphasize his point, Harry leaned up and ran his tongue along Snape's jaw line, stopping at his ear to play with the lobe. Groaning, Snape leaned into the touch as his hands searched for the edge of Harry's shirt. Lifting it up slightly, he slid his hands underneath, stroking the warm skin and causing Harry to shiver with pleasure as he began to suck on the Professor's neck.

Harry slowly moved his mouth the crook of Snape's neck where his shoulder connected and began to kiss it softly. God, the man tasted brilliant! Sucking, he grinned inwardly as he thought about leaving his mark on the Potion's Professor.

Snape had other ideas. With one firm tug, Harry founds his shirt off and his hands pinned above his head. He didn't have enough time to be surprised as he felt Snape's face nuzzle his neck softly and his warm tongue snake it's way along Harry's neck, then his chest, then his stomach, and lower…

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as Snape played with his bellybutton; dipping his tongue teasingly in and out of the small hole. Groaning impatiently and struggling at the hands binding his wrists, Harry wrapped his legs around the thighs of Snape's bent legs and pulled him forward roughly. Getting the point, Snape almost smiled before taking Harry's mouth passionately and wildly. It was as if they needed each other to survive. Snape licked the inside of Harry's cheek and the boy shivered, sucking on the Potion Master's tongue in return. Harry thought he was going to come right then.

Releasing his grip on Harry's wrists, Snape's hands fumbled with his buttons, never breaking the kiss as he slowly disrobed. Harry, seeing his trouble, aided him, and their fingers brushed over each other's intimately as they continued the heated battle in their mouths.

Finally, when they were both stripped down to mere pants, Harry let his hands roam over the older man's body, feeling for every crevice and bump. He was muscular, most likely from his Death Eating experiences, and thin, but covered in scars. His back was littered with long, jagged markings that Harry traced slowly with his fingers, burning each one into his memory.

Snape was taking a different path. His fingers were now at the edge of Harry's pants, teetering on the edge of reason. He paused, wondering if he should really do this.

He tasted the sweet tongue in his mouth, the tender caresses on his back, and the soft skin beneath his palms, and he knew nothing could stop him now. Pressing ever so slightly at the edge, he slid his fingers underneath, causing Harry to stop his exploration and gasp, tilting his head back. Snape took this opportunity to suck on the teen's long, slender throat as put his hands on Harry's hip and slowly pulled down the student's pants; boxers and all. Harry shuddered as cold air hit him and Snape's coarse pant's fabric rubbed sensually up against his skin. Without warning, he felt a hot, wetness envelope him and he let out a strangled cry as Snape's tongue ran up and down his shaft lethargically. Harry dug his fingers into the Professor's hair and moaned. "More," he breathed.

Snape was more than happy to oblige. Relaxing his throat, he plunged his head downward, taking all of Harry in one fluid movement. Whimpering, Harry tried to move his hips, but Snape held them firmly in place as he all but swallowed Harry whole.

Draping his legs upon Snape's shoulders, Harry urged him closer and hissed in ecstasy as Snape fondled his balls carefully. He was going to come. Then, suddenly, Snape pulled away; leaving Harry to moan in displeasure as the warm wetness was gone.

"Oh no," Snape whispered deviously, "You aren't going to come yet."

"You're evil," Harry grinned, panting slightly.

"Am I?" Snape purred, leaning up to run his tongue along Harry's chin and dip it into Harry's mouth.

Suddenly, Harry realized that it was no longer fabric that lay against his legs, but skin. Smooth, warm skin.


"I spelled them off," Snape said devilishly.

Harry chuckled. "Finally." He wrapped his legs around Snape's waist and pulled their bodies close together.

"Demanding are we?" Snape teased.

"If you don't fuck me right now I'll curse you into oblivion, you old git," Harry said dangerously.

"What a pick-up line," Snape mused sarcastically "That's the way to get into someone's pants, all right."

"Shut up."

Snape's eyes narrowed impishly. "If you want it so badly, then who am I to deny you?"

Harry had no time to reply. Without any preparation, Snape thrust into him. Harry braced himself, waiting for pain, but it never came. Instead, only a filling warmth sent shivers down his spine, and he grasped Snape's shoulders in an almost loving fashion. Almost.

"I guess you spelled that too?" Harry asked, unable to keep his breathing steady.

"Of course," Snape replied; softly this time. "Are you ready?"

Harry paused. He had never heard Snape talk so gently before. His voice was nearly kind. Nearly. Nodding, Harry dug his fingers deep into Snape's flesh as the man pulled and began to move slowly.

Harry's and Snape's moans rose together as they picked up a steady rhythm, increasing speed in a dance of passion as they embraced.

"Severus…" Harry whispered his name.

Severus's heart almost stopped. A feeling so wonderful it was painful filled his chest at hearing Harry say his first name. It was like his soul was on fire. "Harry?" It felt even better to say the young man's name. To feel it come out of his lips, dripping like honey from his very core.

Harry loved hearing it just as much. Hearing his first name poured over him like velvet. "Touch me," he pleaded.

Not wanting to disappoint (yeah right, Severus), Severus grasped Harry's cock and pulled as he thrust deeply into Harry, picking up the rhythm as he skillfully delectated Harry with deft fingers.

Harry's cries rose into the darkness and mingled with Severus's deep moans and they came close to the climax of their ecstasy. Biting softly on the slippery flesh of Harry's shoulder, Severus tensed and thrust one more time into the deep warmth of Harry before coming seconds before Harry, himself, did the same, shouting Severus's name as he did so.

Severus collapsed into a shaking heap on top of Harry, not wanting to pull out just yet. To his surprise, he felt slender arms wrap around him and hug him tightly. Without thought, he reciprocated, holding Harry tightly and cursing himself mentally for such a tender display. Lifting his head, he placed a truly honest and affectionate kiss on Harry's lips, kissing him slowly and delicately. Lifting a hand, he slowly traced the contours of the young man's face with such a soft caress that they both shivered by the severity of the emotions running through them.

Closing his eyes tightly, Severus kissed one last time before pulling out and sitting back against the wall.

Harry sat up. "What do we do now?" he asked shakily.





"Do you really want to know?"

"Godammit, just answer me!"

"We get dressed."

Harry chuckled softly into the darkness. "Git."

"Forever and always," Severus replied. With a wave of his hand, they were dressed and cleaned.

"I wish everything were that easy," Harry said, adjusting his shirt and sitting down beside Severus.

"That would be impossible," Severus answered.

"I know, but it would still be nice," Harry paused, "Se…Severus?"

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sound of his name from Harry's tongue. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry smiled nervously. "Wh-what now though?" he asked hesitantly, "I mean, we can't just go back to normal, can we?"

"We can, actually," Severus said, "But… I don't want to."

Harry's heart jumped to his throat. "Seriously? You would want to do this again?"

"If you want to." Severus hadn't meant to sound excited, but he couldn't help it. Now that he had tasted bliss, he didn't want to let it go.

"I… I do want to, "Harry said, "But are you sure yo-"

Severus silenced him with a passionate kiss. "Good." Now we just have to figure out how to get ou-"

"Hello boys!"

Severus and Harry winced as the closet flooded with light. Shaking off the blind spots, they looked up to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway, grinning like a madman and eyes twinkling like no tomorrow.



Dumbledore smiled. "Well I just sensed an issue and decided to come check it out. Young Harry here was late from his detention, and you, my dear Severus, did not show up for tea. So, naturally, I came to see what was keeping you. I do trust you are okay?"

Blast it! Severus mentally slapped himself. Tea! He had completely forgotten. "Yes, we're fine Albus, thank you." Now they were in for it. The mischievous Headmaster had to have known what had happened with him and Harry. He had walked in on them while kissing! Who knows how long he had been there!

Harry was thinking the exact same thing. The two stood, bracing themselves for a harsh, or falsely kind reprimand from the eye twinkling old coot.

However, Dumbledore said nothing, and he moved aside to let the two men pass, the twinkle in his eye glowing even brighter as they gulped nervously.

"Professor…" Harry started, "I…"

"You were trapped in a closet, I know," Dumbledore interrupted, "No need to worry about it. The situation is fixed now. And otherwise, I have absolutely not the foggiest clue as to what you're talking about. No need to say anything, Harry my boy. Now wrongs were committed this night. Absolutely no wrongs, Severus," he said, turning to the befuddled Potion's Professor. Winking to the two, he began to walk up the stairs. "Yes, well, I must be going. I'm in the mood for a few lemon drops, but I left them in my office. Alas, I do like a good lemon drop. Goodnight then!" He waved cheerily to the bemused men before leaving the room in a swish of glowing robes.

They stood silently for a moment, staring blankly at the stairs where the Headmaster had been only moments before. Then, looking at each other they finally broke. Harry burst out laughing and Severus shook his head, smiling.

Throwing his arms around Severus's shoulders, Harry kissed him and giggled. "I guess that was his way of giving permission."

"I suppose so," Severus agreed, "But I think it's time you go to your dorm now, Harry."

"I don't think so!" Harry replied defiantly.

Severus cocked an inquisitive brow and looked at Harry curiously. "Pardon?"

"Well," Harry grinned, "We still have a potion to make."

Severus's eyebrows raised, then his expression softened. For the first time in his life, his eyes glowed as he looked at Harry with a loving expression. Not almost, not nearly. It was loving.

And it would be only one of the many loving looks to come. Something in him changed that day. And it was all because of a detention, crushed crystals, a cramped closet , and Harry Potter; the blasted, bloody Boy Who Lived.


Crap, that was corny. But who cares? I wrote this cause I felt like it. IT IS A ONE SHOT, so don't ask for more, but I wouldn't mind reviews anyway. I haven't really written anything like this before. But it was fun.