DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything created by Rowling (because since she created it, I can't claim ownership) –unspoken DUH-

Detention

"Another detention?" Snape asked incredulously without taking his eyes off the papers he was marking.

A non-committal grunt was Harry's only answer.

"I wouldn't be surprised if in this year alone you obtained enough detentions to rival those of the Weasley twins in all their seven years." Snape's pen never ceased scrawling over the parchment, but the door closed behind Harry with a final thud.

"I seriously doubt that. Filch bans any item remotely related to them on principle alone." Harry's voice was sullen as he walked to stand directly in front of Snape. One might expect that of any boy being made to suffer through two hours of detention with the teacher he despised the most. Undoubtedly that was the entire point of the punishment.

"In the dungeons, are we? Well then, how about a kiss?" The question was posed in an amused voice, yet both of them knew Snape was serious.

Apparently the detention was not as unpleasant as the teachers thought.

"We probably shouldn't do this during school hours." Nevertheless, Harry walked resignedly around the desk, standing stiffly at Snape's side, tensing for a second as Snape made a final red mark on an offending essay before turning to pull Harry's head down and plant a gentle kiss on Harry's pursed lips.

At times like this, Snape felt ridiculously foolish, sharing an incredibly chaste kiss with a boy almost half his age – a boy he loved­ ­– his student, on top of that – Harry loved him too­ – hell it was much easier to forget all these when they were hot and sweaty in bed together. But now … He frequently had doubts like that, but they plagued him considerably less now than at the start of their somewhat unusual relationship. A truly tumultuous time it had been, and memories of that time (which was incidentally around the time where the War officially began, with an official Ministry announcement and the Death Eaters' unofficial attack on Diagon Alley), of what they had went through, was what prompted Snape to comfort and hold Harry at moments like this. Even though he felt like a teenager necking in an unused classroom.

But that was the crux of it. Harry made him feel young again.

Then the kiss changed, and Harry pressed his body closer towards Snape until it was flush against his seated body, so their shoulders rubbed each other and their hips touched. He leaned into Snape's inviting warmth, straddling him and inhaling the bitter scent of potions ingredients clinging to him, before stopping just short of sitting on Snape's lap.

Snape's free hand snaked around Harry's waist and closed the distance between their bodies. His quill tip brushed the back of Harry's robes scarlet, and when their bodies touched, a groan escaped both of them.

Triumphantly, Harry pulled away slightly, sullen look gone, eyes mirroring the gleam in Snape's silvery gaze.

"That got your attention, didn't it? Stop getting second thoughts about us while we're kissing, Severus. It's quite rude."

Unlike Snape, Harry had no qualms about their relationship. Even back then, Snape had been the one worrying about everything and anything. Once he had darkly thrown 'repercussions' at Harry during an argument, and for one long horrifying minute Harry had blood-freezing thoughts about Muggles and teenage/unwanted pregnancies and the fundamental differences between a male and a female. He was pretty sure he was the former. Snape had dismissed Harry's thoughts with an exasperated explanation.

/flashback/

"For Merlin's sake, has living with Muggles seven summers in a row addled your brains to the point of malfunction? If you haven't noticed yet, Harry, you are a Wizard. And surprise, surprise, so am I. We need not worry about unwanted pregnancies in male relationships. Only selected wizards are able to conceive; besides we do have contraceptive measures. I expect they work much better than those pills Muggles take." The last bit was said with some sort of sniff.

Harry had flushed; it had been years since he had last shown his ignorance of the many intricacies of the Wizarding folk, and he did not appreciate to be made to feel stupid in front of his – Snape. Defensively, he snapped back. "I couldn't very well ask anybody about this, could I? Since nobody is supposed to know about our relationship, or even about the fact that I'm gay."

"Yes, a field day for The Daily Prophet, that one." Snape had mused with a sort of forced calm. If Harry had not been visualizing a scenario where he asked his best friends about male pregnancies and casually told them in passing that he was gay, he would have paid more attention to Snape's tone of voice. "Of course, nobody knows that I'm gay either. Or that I'm having an ILLEGAL IMMORAL IMBECILIC AFFAIR WITH ONE OF MY OWN STUDENTS!"

If Harry had listened more carefully, he might have noticed the crescendo of Snape's voice and with great luck, even have avoided the – empty, thankfully – potion vial that Snape threw at Harry at the end of that impassioned speech.

In the end the argument was resolved amicably, of course, with no further harm occurring to any of the participants. Before they fell asleep that night however (at a rather late three in the morning, considering that fact that they had turned in at ten), Harry felt a lingering unease in Snape which troubled the young man. Then again, that night had been Snape's turn to bottom, so that might have contributed to the older man's tension, although in the end they both did it. More than once each. It was a good thing neither of them had lessons the following day, and they could sleep in.

/flashback/

"Still as attention-seeking as ever, Potter?"

"Stop calling me Potter, Snape."

"I assume you just used my last name in order to irritate me, and through that to blackmail me into calling you by your first name, but since I, unlike you, do not mind being called Snape, that won't work."

Harry pounced on that inaccuracy. He placed his mouth near Snape's ear, and blew out a huff of hot air. Snape twitched, and gently stroked Harry's back.

"I don't mind being called Snape either."

For a full second Snape was stunned into silence, while Harry basked in the glow of a magnificent achievement. He decided to commemorate the occasion – he had just rendered Snape speechless, and oh yeah, asked Severus to marry him when he was still in school and their secret relationship was just that: secret – by kissing Snape soundly before he could say no – anything. Coward, his mind hissed at him.

Of course, back then, Voldemort had still been up and about, and being caught as a traitor to the Dark and the lover of Harry Potter (coincidentally the crusader for the Light) was bad enough for Snape without fathering a child to boot. But that was then. Voldemort was gone, school would end in two months and the N.E.W.T.s in one. After that Snape and Harry could – finally – publicise their relationship (not that they were going to tell the entire world) instead of having to sneak around during detentions and after hours. Although the fact that Harry, being a Saviour, could have chose any unoccupied room in Hogwarts and yet lived near Slytherin's tower (which was conveniently one corridor away from Snape's own quarters) 'to improve inter-house relations', should have arose some suspicions.

So Harry was optimistic about seeing similar bands around both their ring fingers in the near future.

The kiss had to end, for though wizards, they still have not managed to overcome physical limitations – they still needed to breath. Parting, they gasped, Harry blushing and trying to avert his gaze from Snape's unfathomable one, but since they were barely an inch apart, he did not succeed.

Snape stared at the uncomfortable Harry for a minute. His mind was whirling with thoughts, thoughts he did not dare voice and could not say, and if he was to be entirely honest with himself, he would admit that there was nothing more he wanted in the world than to marry Harry.

Except dragon tears. They weren't the rarest substance in the world for nothing.

"Well then." Snape coughed, so reminiscent of Umbridge that Harry could not help grinning. That broke the tension, while Snape fumbled – preposterous, Snapes never fumble – for the cause. His eyes narrowed when he realized.

"Don't compare me to that overgrown toad." He winced again as he realized what he had just said. Harry's grin grew bigger.

"Just – don't say a thing, Potter, or I will hex you so hard it would make the Dark Lord's Crucio feel like a tickle." He pushed Harry off his lap, ignoring his protests and conjured up a chair next to his own for Harry to sit in.

"Ah, back to that, are we?" Harry's grin had shrunk into a smirk, which, for all intents and purposes, was even worse than the original. Snape suspected that Harry had received instructions from the very best – the Head Boy.

"No we are not, and could you shut up and let me do the things I pushed your delectable person off my lap for?" Snape flexed his arm before dipping his quill in red ink again and going over the Potions essays carefully. He felt Harry lean towards him, interested in his essays, yet obviously not forgetting what had happened mere seconds ago.

"And stop smirking; I can smell it from here. I must have a word with Draco one of these days." He continued marking essays, not breaking stride, before an exceptionally abysmal piece of writing caught his attention. He wrinkled his noise in disgust, crossing out five consecutive erroneous sentences about the properties of fermented Treeslugs.

"Fancy calling them vegetarians because they presumably live in trees. Sometimes I think the standard decrease twice fold every year."

Harry had been content to watch Snape grade essays the past while; he had absolutely no interest in the Potions essays of fifth years. Really, Snape looked terribly charming when he curled his lips like that, all annoyed and exasperated and faintly malevolent. The slender fingers that held the quill expertly paled against the velvet of the feather and the blood of the ink. He could still remember the first time vividly: he was in his dormitory, Snape had entered the room while he was bathing, it was night and when he came out Snape was nothing more than a shadow standing by the portrait opening.

/flashback/

"Do you normally bathe at this time of the night?" The tension was there between them, sparking from their eyes and singing their skin, curling deep in their stomachs and below. The sight of Harry in a robe did nothing to relax Snape.

"Do you normally barge into other people's rooms at this time of the night?" Harry felt the atmosphere change, too, and was glad the thick fluffy robe hid his response. Not that he wasn't sure Snape could see it, but he had to keep up the act of trying to hide it anyway. It was a matter of pride.

But Snape had came. Snape was in his room, even though there was no reason for him to be; they didn't have any of the training sessions Dumbledore forced upon them today. It had been a matter of pride for Snape, too, but not only that.

"I asked you first." Snape moved closer, his eyes gleaming silver in the dark.

"So you answer first." Harry wouldn't back off. He couldn't, not with tension and desire stringing him so tight he could barely breathe. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was barely clothed, and Snape was in the room. Alone with him.

"Insolent brat." He knew what was coming. Had expected it for days now, ever since they've both acknowledged their mutual desire in a kiss so hot it had scorched them both. They had stopped then, but now there was no reason to.

Snape thought dimly that he would regret this decision keenly the next day when he was marginally saner, but the hot dry touch of Harry's lips on his drowned out any feeble protests his conscience might have made. Snape's tongue flicked out to tease at the seam of his lips, all the while moving closer and closer still so that inadvertently their chests touched and their hips meshed, Snape's dark robes billowing around Harry's legs. Their erections touched, and both of them groaned desperately into each other's mouths

Looking down into the younger man's eyes, Snape asked the question silently, all the while caressing his heated body with pale perfect hands. Harry, lost in darkness and heat and the shadow that was Snape, could only stare up at him through a haze of desire. He felt the loss of Snape's lips terribly and instinctively arched further upwards, seeking out the fire of Snape's talented mouth.

"Happy seventeenth birthday, Harry."

/flashback/

The scratching of the quill stopped abruptly. Harry, still caught in the memory, did not notice as Snape peered curiously at him.

"Harry. Harry?" A pause. "Potter!" He gave Harry a poke in the ribs.

Harry gave a jerk of surprise.

"Harry – As much as I enjoy your hand and its expert ministrations, it cannot stay rubbing my cock indefinitely if I am to remain stable." And unmoved. And unexcited. Merlin, that last bit was already impossible.

Harry stared blankly at Snape before catching sight of his own hand lying between Snape's slightly parted thighs. He flushed bright red, rather like the dash of ink on Snape's quill, not removing his hand completely but placing it on Snape's right thigh instead.

"Sorry about that. I – I was thinking."

"About us, I presume." Harry, though not looking at Snape, could see the smirk on Snape's face.

"Of my seventeenth birthday." Harry wasn't about to play any games about that, and he also wanted to wipe that smirk off Snape's face. Snape's fingers tensed around his quill. He did not have to be more explicit; both knew to what they were referring.

Snape looked at Harry sharply. He could not discern any visible emotions from Harry, and that made him uneasy. Trying for a touch of his trademark sarcasm (always useful whether he was trying to give first-years incontinence or to crack the tension when Harry spoke about their first night together), he deadpanned, "I hope you were remembering how I made you come five times."

The melancholy was gone in a flash, as though it never was. Harry knew what Snape meant to him; more importantly, he knew what he meant to Snape. He also knew Snape needed to be taken down a notch about his sexual prowess.

"Shut up, Severus." Not the most sophiscated one-liner ever, but it dissipated the tension.

Snape merely raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, marking the trashing of that particular can of worms. "Well then, which subject was it today?"

Harry's annoyance at the start of detention resurfaced.

"Defence."

"Lupin - ?" Snape was surprised, to say the least.

Harry lean towards Snape slightly, tone urgent now. "Severus, I think he knows. About us."

Snape sneered at that. Perhaps living right next to the Potions Master was not sufficient evidence to their relationship, but ever since the war, he could not bear to take any points from Harry during Potions (besides, there was hardly any legitimate reason to, as Harry's potion-brewing had improved by leaps and bounds after their training sessions). This change would most certainly have been remarked upon, especially since the enmity between them was legendary. Besides Lupin was always sensitive to – strong feelings and scents, an effect of being a werewolf. There was also the obvious tendency for Harry to beam at Snape whenever he saw him now. Surely that would not go unremarked on.

And no doubt McGonagall knew of their relationship. Sometimes Snape thought she was getting as bad as Dumbledore had been, perhaps even worse. Seeing all the past headmasters and headmistresses cannot be good for her, already too sharp for her own good. He told Harry as much.

"Well then, it's lucky you don't have enough of a conscience to confess our relationship to her and tend your resignation, isn't it?" Privately Harry agreed; yesterday morning during breakfast, he had glanced over at the teachers' table and met McGonagall's eyes by accident. He swore he saw a twinkle, much like those cursed blue sparks of Dumbledore, in her eyes before she turned to look innocently as Snape, knowing full well that Harry had followed her gaze.

"Yes. Being an ex-Death Eater does have its uses. Nobody expects me to do the honourable thing. Why did Lupin give you a detention anyway?"

Harry had the grace to look sheepish. "That was my own fault. I forgot that the Wolfsbane essay was due today."

Snape shook his head reprovingly. Harry rushed on defensively "But the rest of those times weren't. Well, I did use a Dark Spell during Charms but that was only to neutralize the effects of the Stabilizing Spell – ditto for Transfiguration, except I accidentally banished the mouse I was supposed to be expelling –"Harry stopped short when Snape placed a slender finger over Harry's lips. He felt the finger trace his upper lips, shivering as that cold touch brushed into the heat of his mouth.

"I should have expected you to use the charms I taught you during your training. You should pay more mind to rules in the classroom, Harry."

"This is coming from a man who deliberately broke as many rules as he could during his seventh year?"

"No, this is coming from the person who set those rules in the classroom and who is giving you your detention." Snape paused delicately. "Besides, I never got caught."

Harry made a sound of disgust. "It's not my fault all the teachers are ganging up on me. They're deliberately sending me for detentions with you Severus!"

"Don't make excuses for yourself, Potter." But Snape was trying not to laugh.

"I'm not!" Harry insisted vehemently. "Last Sunday I was rushing back to my room – which is all the way across Hogwarts from the Gryffindor – right before curfew and I swear there were 10 minutes left when Professor Vector emerged from the dungeons. What does he do? Punish me for being out after curfew – I was at my door, for Merlin's sake – and instead of deducting points, gave me detention. With you."

This time Snape couldn't help himself. He started laughing, a low husky sound of genuine amusement which tickled its way down Harry's spine. Harry stared incredulously at Snape, feeling his pants grow unmistakable tighter. Merlin, how can a laugh make him hard like this?

"Are you … Are you laughing?"

Snape only laughed harder. "Come on, Harry. Don't tell me in the years you've known me, you've never seen me laugh before?"

"Well, I might have forgotten, given the number of times I've actually seen you do that."

Snape abruptly turned serious. "Maybe we should be more discreet."

Understatement of the year award: Severus Snape.

"I think all the teachers already know, given the amount of detentions I've gotten."

"I'm not kidding. This could affect your future career when people see the number of detentions you received in your seventh year alone. Besides, you won't have time to complete your assignments if this goes on. I must have a word with Minerva –"

Harry felt a little alarmed. Surely this was an exaggeration. No doubt the detentions were exasperating, but he didn't really mind if he could spend time with Severus. He was only annoyed because the teachers were having fun at his expense. But from Severus' tone, he was seriously concerned.

"What are you going to tell her?"

"Well, that I can't accept any more detentions with you because of my busy schedule. In fact, I should start right now by sending you over to Madam Hooch for some pitch cleaning –"

"Sev-erus!"

A knock on the door stopped them in their tracks.

"Severus? If I may have a word?" Lupin.

Harry started panicking, jerking back from Snape and knocking over his chair in his haste, all the while cursing under his breath. Before Snape could do anything, Lupin, having decided that he had given them enough time to compose themselves, pushed the door open and walked in.

"Hello Harry." A pause. "Is being on the floor part of your detention?"

Harry jumped up. Flustered he gesticulated soundlessly, finally settling for a "No, sir".

"Potter was helping me correct the fifth year's Potions essays before the interruption. Perhaps more exposure might further develop his potion-brewing skills."

Harry, in the midst of dusting off his robes, tried to figure out whether that had been an insult. Lupin cracked a grin that was entirely too bright to have come from a werewolf.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, Severus. The entire faculty knows about your relationship with Harry. Well, with the exception of Argus, his own affair with Pince, you know, but that's neither here nor there."

Ignoring Snape's sour "I agree" aimed at him, Lupin turned to face Harry.

"Harry, well. It came as a bit of a shock at first – I would have thought I'd hear it from you personally – but I understand. Both Severus and you are wonderful people and deserve wonderful – happiness, so I hope that you know you both have my blessing."

Snape looked disgusted. "That was a revoltingly sappy speech."

"Hell, you think so too?" Lupin, having gotten the entire 'acceptance' speech over and done with, wiped his forehead and sat in the chair opposite Snape and Harry. Harry had been stunned into inaction ever since the start of Lupin's speech. He knew Lupin and Severus were friendly, especially with the War and all that (both had saved each other's life once) but never thought they were such good terms.

"I told Tonks I was going to talk to the two of you and she threatened to disembowel me if I said anything inappropriate. You don't know how worried I was. I spent the entire night making that thing up!"

Harry's head spun. "Tonks know? So you disapprove?"

"Oh no Harry. I think the two of you are well – perfect for each other." Lupin ignored Snape's sneer. "It's just … rather shocking. Still. If you're happy, and sure, then that's all that matters. But I just want Snape to know that if he hurt you in anyway, he'll have a rabid werewolf on his tail."

Both Harry and Snape didn't know what to say about that threat. It had surprised them both, coming from a seemingly mild-mannered man like Lupin.

"I'm impressed, Lupin. That was a half-way decent threat."

"Thanks, I practiced in front of a mirror."

With that parting shot (proving once and for all that nobody could be with the Marauders and not get influenced some way or other), Lupin stood to leave, inclining his head towards Snape and saying goodbye to Harry. Snape hesitated.

"Lupin."

Lupin turned around.

"Harry and I are getting married once he graduates. Since we already have your blessing, I thought you should be the first to know."

Both Harry and Lupin gaped like fishes at that. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at Snape who was determinedly avoiding his gaze. A faint pink tinge touched his cheekbones.

"Severus – you're sure?" He choked the words out.

With a touch of his familiar impatience covering something more acute, Snape snapped, "Of course. I do not joke, especially about – something like this." Something as important as this.

Ignoring Lupin's presence, Harry rushed over and wrapped his arms around Snape happily, darkening the blush on Snape's cheeks, ignoring Snape's desperate efforts to dislodge himself.

Lupin looked on in amusement. "Congratulations, Severus, Harry. May I ask who popped the question?"

"Harry did. In typical brainless fashion." Snape said sourly, having decided to his dissatisfaction that he could not remove Harry from his person without harming him.

Wearing a huge grin, Lupin turned and opened the door, ignoring Snape's protests (Harry was still dizzy with relief), saying triumphantly, "I told you so!" Snape narrowed his eyes.

The other members of the faculty were gathered outside Snape's door, all who had been listening hard as to the outcome of Lupin's questioning, which would then determine the winners – of a bet about Harry and Snape. Nobody heard Snape's angry snarl or saw his deadly glare.

McGonagall finally took pity on the pair. "I apologise for this … interruption. Remus can be very persuasive at times. But you have to admit, it took a pretty long time for the two of you to come to your senses, but it was worth it, in the end. We'll leave you two to your detention now; there are winnings to collect for some."

Snape muttered. "I knew I saw a twinkle somewhere in the middle of the last sentence."

"Oh, and Dumbledore wants to extend his best wishes."

The door closed behind them, leaving silence in its wake. Only Snape's hiss pierced it.

Harry felt suddenly awkward. "You … didn't know about the bet, did you?"

A glare told him so. The fire cackled evilly.

"You meant it when you said you'll marry me, didn't you?

No reply.

"Severus?"

"We're going to buy our engagement rings on Sunday. If you say a word, Potter, I swear I would curse you within an inch of your life."

"Sev –" Harry hid a grin.

"And if you lose them I'll kill you."

"I love you too, Severus." Snape was left spluttering.

Please review if you find this worthy of one! (and even if you don't, tell me why.)

P.S Poke me if you see a grammar mistake.