Miwa: First of all, this is a birthday present for Spike, written by Tabby, so…

Tabby: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPIKE!!! –dancedance-

Miwa: …

Tabby: I COMMAND YOU TO DO THE B-DAY DANCE, MIWA-CHAN!!

Miwa: Now way in…

Tabby: NO language on b-days, Miwa-chan. Now, DANCE!!

Miwa: -glare-

Tabby: Do it, or I write about you!

Miwa: -shudder- fine… -dance-

Tabby: YUS!!

Miwa- moving on…

Tabby: DISCLAIMER, yay!!!

Miwa: Yes, Spike and Tabby do not own HP.

Tabby: If we did, Snape would be with a lot of people, our weasel/ferret scheme would be realized, and Hermione might accidentally come across as a Wesley WHORE. DX

Miwa: WARNINGS:: slash, TOTAL OC-ness, Snape/child action...

Tabby: That sounds soooo wrong…

Miwa: The usual.

Tabby: So… again, HAPPY B-DAY! I hope you like the first Snape story!


Snape walked into his dark, chilly office. It had been a long day and he was ready to sleep, but he had a mountain of paperwork and grading to do.

Maybe I'll put Potter in detention tomorrow and make him do it….

He sighed as he remembered his talk with McGonagall. She had told him that if he did not stop using detention as a way to get free labor, she was going to the headmaster.

He grimaced, walking over to his desk and looking at the stack of papers. He stared at it blankly for a few seconds, then cocked his head to the side and squinted. He silently cursed his lights for being so dim and picked up the envelope on the top of the stack. It was a plain, white envelope with nothing written on it.

He walked slowly over to his chair in front of the fire, still looking at the letter, which he was sure had not been there two hours ago.

It was also probably from a student. Teachers would use a sealed scroll. Most students did not know how to do that. Except maybe the Granger girl, so he could rule her out too.

He sat in the chair and opened the envelope. Inside was a small, folded piece of parchment, covered with an untidy scrawl. He unfolded it and leaned closer to the fire.

Dear Severus Snape,

I know you probably hate me. If you don't, you don't care about e. Though you probably hate me. But I love you. And I know you would never see me like that, but I had to tell you. I wish you a happy life, and that you'd leave your dungeon more, and that you get more lights in you office, because it can't be good for your eyes. I hope you don't hate me more for this.

XOXO

I am so sorry.

Snape stared at the first love letter of his life, reread it, stared some more, and, realizing his mouth had been hanging open for the past ten minutes, shut it.

He stood up suddenly and started pacing. Who in the name of Merlin's white, craggy beard would send him a love letter? It had to be a student, not just by the envelope, but he could tell by the way they talked. And they were obviously an idiot; thank Merlin for small favors, that meant it was not Granger. But then who?

He looked down at the letter and felt his stomach turn over as he looked at the handwriting. It all felt familiar, as if he had felt it before.

Then he stopped dead, fear and disgust filling him. It was just because this was the first time he had gotten one of these, these 'love letters'. He couldnot be in love with a student. This was stupid.

He slammed the letter down on the desk, sat down, and started his work.

Though he might have pretended otherwise, Snape did not work well that night. For every five seconds, he would glance at a small piece of parchment at the side of his desk.

----

The next morning was an unpleasant affair for Severus Snape. He had tossed and turned, harassed by the mysterious letter.

"Morning Severus" Flitwick said happily as Snape passed at the breakfast table.

"Morning" Snape snapped back, looking at him just enough to see the slightly offended look on his face.

The sky was properly cheery, mocking him along with the teachers. He walked over to his chair and sunk into in. He looked out at the students, wondering whom it had been.

He looked around at the different tables. Far right? No. Why would a Slytherin think he hated them? No, not a Slytherin. Then over one? He could hardly see a Ravenclaw falling for him. Also, they would be far too proud for any of it.

So over again he looked, munching a piece of buttered toast. It might be a Hufflepuff, the writing sounded kind of like a Hufflepuff. Though, he did not think they would be brave enough to send such a letter.

He was suddenly filled with anger and fear, as he looked to the last table he had left….

----

"Oi! Neville!" The boy stared off into the distance, eyes wide and blank. The black-haired boy could not get his attention.

"Neeeeeviiillllleeeee…." Still oblivious. The red-headed girl sat a little down from the boy, elbow on table, hand on face, letting her face slide into distortion in boredom.

"Heeeeeyy,, Neville!!" The red-haired boy sat across from the boy, waved his hand in front of his face.

"You think he's still alive?" asked the bushy-haired girl, concerned.

"What?" He asked, looking around finally, confused looking.

"Neville, what's up? We've been talking to you for ten minutes and you haven't looked at us once."

"Sorry." It was kind of a response, and the others seemed to think so too, but Neville did not notice.

"What's going on?" Asked George as he and his twin sat down next to them.

"Oh, something's up with Neville… again…" Ginny sighed as she said this, and the twins laughed.

"I think he died, and Hermione agrees with me. Touch him to make sure he's not a ghost." This comment earned Ron a smack in the head from Hermione.

Neville stared out again as Ron proceeded to get the shit smacked out of him by his twin brothers, with Hermione and the other watchers cheered them on. Neville let him mind wonder. He was just about to settle into a familiar daydream when Ron, fending off his brothers, distracted them all, Neville included.

"Hey, what's up with Snape?" Everyone around him, also including Neville, looked up at the staff table.

Snape was sitting, bent over the table, slowly smacking his head into his plate and toast. The teachers were all staring at him as if he was insane.

"Oh," said Fred, "Apparently he got a love letter from someone." Everyone around him looked over, astonished.

"What?" Hermione, always the first to come out of shock. "Now, how would you know that?" Also always the logical one.

"We have our sources." Fred said with a sly grin on his face.

Ron interrupted the immediate chatter that followed. "Oh no," The horror in his voice stopped all talk, "We have him next!"

-----

The door was slammed shut as Professor Snape walked into the dungeon classroom.

"Silence" The harsh command was hardly needed. By this time everyone knew, even if they didn't know the reason, that Snape was mad to say the least. Maybe even to the point of insanity.

He walked swiftly up to the black board and wrote Essence of Insanity.

"Open your books to page four-hundred-and-forty-four and begin. I expect a vile on my desk by the end of class. I will now be collection your essays about the compounds of sleeping potions and their similarities." And with a flick of his wand, nineteen essays came flying up, stacking themselves neatly on his desk. "Begin" He sat down and started to grade the essays with a black feather quill.

The students stared blankly at each other, thrown off by the suddenness, and then all at once they started to set up.

Neville whimpered under his breath, looking up at his three friends, wide-eyed.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"He didn't take up my work" There was panic in his voice.

"What?" Hermione asked sharply. Neville held up his essay and Hermione gasped.

"You better go take it to him, Neville."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Neville looked darkly at the two and stood up. By this time half the class was looking at him, and more and more were looking up as he started forward. He slowly walked, as if to the gallows, up to the desk.

"Professor?..." He did not even look up. "Professor Snape, you didn't take my essay…" Snape looked up, his glare cold enough to freeze hell over.

"What?" he replied sharply.

"You didn't take up…"

"Is this defiance, Longbottom?" he interrupted.

"No sir, I just…" The desperate plea pushed Snape over the edge.

"Detention, Longbottom. Tonight at 9 o'clock. Now go sit back down." He snatched the essay out Neville's hand and looked down again, putting it at the bottom of the stack.

Neville stayed there for a second with his mouth open, the shut it and turned around, trudging slowly back to his seat.

-----

Snape sat in his office at his desk, grading papers. He did not particularly want to grade papers during dinner, he was ravenously hungry, but he did not think he could handle another meal in the great hall. He had chanced lunch, but strongly regretted it now. He had been forced to leave half way through. So, no dinner for him. Not today. He also had another sleepless night to look forward to….

He sighed as he crossed out, rewrote, and circled. Then changed papers. Cross out, rewrite, circle, next. Cross out, rewrite, circle, next. Cross out, rewrite, circle… what?

He looked confusedly at the paper he was grading, up at the name, and sighed again, understanding at last.

'How could my surrogate son ever fall for someone who would write rotten curds instead of putrid fish?' he thought. 'Though personally I would prefer the fish…'

He sighed again, wrote a black, spiky 'D' on the top of the paper, and put it on the stack of graded papers.

Maybe he was never going to find the person. Maybe he was doomed to stay in the dungeon for the rest of his life. Maybe it was someone he hated. Maybe….

His stomach turned over as he looked at the next paper, the familiar hand-writing invading his line of sight as his eyes wondered up to the name scrawled at the top of the page….

-----

Ron ran up the hallway and to the portrait of the fat lady.

"Why aren't you all at dinner?" She asked indignantly.

"Oh, mind your own business, will you? And the password's Turnip curds." Said Ron with a look of disgust on his face.

"Yum!" the fat lady exclaimed, as she swung open.

Ron climbed through the portrait hole and fell in.

"I got food," he said, peeling himself off the floor. Ginny looked up at him.

"Is there any left that's not squished?" They all laughed as Ron turned red and dropped the food on the table.

Ron fell into one of the chairs in front of the fire. Harry and Hermione occupied the other two, with Ginny and Neville on the floor.

"Ah, it's nice to have some time alone." Hermione sighed. They all had schoolbooks open, and they were all reading. Silence stretched out over a few minutes when all of a sudden Ginny violently threw her book into a corner.

"I can't do it anymore!!" she cried frustrated as everyone jumped. "Lets do something fun."

"Okay, like what?" Neville asked, the rest gladly putting their books down, even Hermione.

"Like…" Ginny thought silently for a few seconds, an evil grin spreading across her face. "Like truth or dare" There was a silence as the others thought for a second.

"Okay" Ron said. The three on the chairs slid onto the floor and they all scooted around the low table covered with food.

"So, who starts?" Harry asked, and they all looked at Ginny.

"Well, I guess me." She said. So it began. "Hermione" Hermione looked slightly scared at the sound of her name.

"Why me first?"

"Hey, better you than me!" Ron muttered. Ginny shot him a filthy look. He quieted.

"Hermione, truth or dare?" She thought for a second.

"Truth," she said at last.

"Um… have you ever kissed anyone romantically other than Krum?" She blushed as she answered.

"I had a boyfriend before I came to Hogwarts. I kissed him. But I hade to breakup with him after I got my letter." Ginny giggled.

"Your turn!"

"Ron, truth or dare?" Ron's ears turned pink.

"Dare" he said reluctantly.

"Um…" she said thinking, "You have to kiss Fang on the slobbery mouth, no backing out."

"WHAT!?" Ginny and Hermione high-five. Neville shuddered, deciding not to ever choose dare with this group.

"Harry?"

"Truth." The evilest grin Harry had ever seen spread across Ron's face.

"Is it true…" Ron let the suspense grow. "That you're having an affair with Blaze?" Ginny's mouth fell open and a little laugh came out. Harry blushed.

"Yes," he said at last. They all cheered. He smiled, and once they were quiet again, he moved on.

"Ginny, Truth or Dare?"

"DARE!? She said, enthusiastically.

"Tomorrow, you have to go up to Luna and kiss her." Instead of the response he expected, Ginny turned a bright red and looked sheepishly at the ground.

"Wait, you like Luna?" His voice came up to a squeak and a giggle at the end.

"Shut up Ron, only one thing per turn!" Her face said it all. "Neville." Neville jumped at the sound of his name.

"Oh, um... truth." He crossed his fingers, hoping she wouldn't ask the one question…

"Who do you like?" She just had to ask.

"Um… well…" he looked from expectant face to expectant face, then down at the ground.

"snp…" he muttered.

"What?" Ginny asked in an urging voice.

"Snp…"

"Come on, Neville, you can tell us! We won't say anything."

"SNnp" he started chewing his fingernails.

"Neville, you have to tell us, now just say it!"

SNAPE!" he smacked his hand over his mouth, but it had slipped out as a yell.

"WHAT!?" They stared at him, open mouthed, then slowly, they started to laugh. Even Hermione couldn't help herself.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny." He muttered into his lap.

"Neville, were you the one who sent the letter?" Harry could barely get the words out, he was still laughing.

"yus." Again muttered.

"But I thought you hated him?" They had stopped laughing at him and were now looking interestedly at him.

"I did, but then…" he shrugged.

"Well, that's all fine and everything," everyone looked over at Hermione, "You have to go to his office tonight."

"I know" Neville said miserably.

"Neville," they now all looked over at Ginny, "you have to tell him it was you."

"No way," he said defiantly.

"But you saw the way he looked at breakfast and lunch today"

"No."

"Do it tonight, we'll go with you!"

"I'm not going to tell him!" He looked around at four faces, all determined to get him to confess. He sighed, silently arming himself for a very long, very hard battle, which he would probably loose in the end.

-----

Snape was facing the fire when he heard the nock on the door.

"Enter." He said, still not looking around as the door was opened. He just stared at the fire, trying to keep his thoughts together. He knew what he was had to do.

The boy stood behind him, watching Snape's back, the sight of it making his mind shut down.

The other four walked in, ignored by both the men standing in the middle of the room.

The silence grew, contracted, suffocating everything, taking Neville's breath away. There was almost visible electricity running between the two. Neville opened his mouth, shut it, opened, shut. Neville looked around, anything to distract his mind for a second. He saw the desk in the dark and recognized his letter sitting opened on the table, sitting next to another piece of parchment. Snape must have been reading it over again. He suddenly got a burst of courage.

"Professor, I have something to tell you. I…" His courage ran out as he was interrupted.

"I know." Snape was no longer able to stand the shaking fear in the boy's voice. Neville was again left open-mouthed and speechless.

Snape forgot all his plans, all his reasoning, all his common sense. Turning around, with eyes locked on the scared boy, walked toward him, stopping inches in front of him. But Neville's eyes were on his feet.

"What I want to know," he said in a very soft, un-Snape-ish voice, "Is why it took so long to tell me." He put a finger under Neville's chin, lifting up his face. Wide, bright eyes met black ones, and both softened.

"I thought Gryffindor were supposed to be brave." He leaned down, finger still under chin, and lips, like eyes, met.

They were lost for what seemed like hours, oblivious to everything.

"Oh. My. Lemon." A soft exclamation from a red-haired idiot, a smack, a cry of pain. A whispered spell, a drag on the floor, the quiet shutting of a door, they were oblivious to all, locked in the strangest bliss ever to set foot in Hogwarts.


You may think this is the crackiest story I have ever written, but it's not. This was originally about Ron. That was the crackiest slash I have ever written. And then it was Harry, which is a surprisingly popular couple! So the next Snape I write will have to be a Harry one. Maybe… if I remember XD

Anyways, I think some clarification is needed. This is kind of an AU. I guess. It ignores the last couple of books. Snape never killed Dumbledore, he didn't die, and Neville didn't get all tough. Poor Neville :'(

I hope you like it Spiky! OH! And an extra part…

This was partially written in Geometry ;3

Anyways, love dearest!!

XDTabbyXD