Fic-a-thon Fic!!!! OMG IT SUCKS.
Title: The Witching Hour
Author: freaky_zero
Rating: PG-13/R-ish?
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything, sadly. I make no profit.
A/N: Written for meshell_mybell as part of the snarrydetention ficathon. Requests were (required) dubious consent, light bondage and (optional) student/teacher (seventh year) love triangles, total miscommunication.
Summary: When Harry receives a note from a ‘secret admirer’ he takes his chance! (Yes, I SUCK at summaries.)
The Witching Hour
The library, potions nook, midnight.
Harry blinked owlishly at the note in his hands. Somehow it had been placed inside his bed curtains, although, whether by physical or magical means the Gryffindor wasn’t sure. The parchment had been folded into the shape of a bat and then apparently charmed to flap noisily around his head. It had been the noisy flapping that had woken him up.
Rubbing his eyes sleepily the seventh year student wondered vaguely who the note was from; he didn’t recognize the handwriting, that was certain. Grabbing his wand from under his pillow, he tapped the parchment four times and muttered a common identifier spell.
The words ‘dictation quill’ appeared in a glowing script beneath the original message and Harry fell back onto his pillows with a muffled curse. Allowing the parchment to slip from his fingers, it refolded itself and it took up it’s flight course around Harry’s head once more. More than a little annoyed Harry tightened his grip on the wand still in his hand and aimed it at the ‘bat’ currently zooming around him.
“Finite Incantatem!”
His overzealous spell colliding with the charmed origami made a slight squelching sound and the annoying parchment fell to his bed like a bird shot from the sky. Wincing slightly as the note started smoldering around the edges, Harry wondered if maybe he hadn’t put a bit too much power into his ‘finite incantatem’.
Bugger it anyway, he thought crossly as he tumbled out of bed and headed for the loo.
---------------------------------
Twenty minutes and one shower later Harry was in a much better disposition as he made his way to the Great Hall for a late breakfast. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry was surprised to find Ron and Hermione still there as well as sitting side by side silently. Recently, Ron and Hermione’s trademark squabbles had become rather vicious and Harry was glad, for once, that the two weren’t speaking to each other.
Sifting around in his robe, Harry pulled out his early morning missive and handed it across the table to Hermione.
“I woke up to that,” he nodded to the parchment. “It was making the worst racket flapping around my head. I was wondering if you knew a spell that could tell me who charmed it to fly? I tried to figure it out, but all I got was that it was written with some type of dictation quill. Which is bloody useless.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow primly and quickly glanced over the note she had unfolded while Harry was giving his explanation.
“Well,” she said after a few more moments of examination. “I might have been able to, that is if someone’s shoddy spell work hadn’t obliterated the original magical signature.”
Harry flushed and took a bite of his porridge.
“It was bloody annoying,” he muttered through his food before swallowing. “And I was half asleep.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Really, Harry, half asleep or not, if you would only put the tiniest amount of concentration into--”
Ron cut her off, having read the note over her shoulder. “Are you going to go, mate? It’s almost like you have a secret admirer or something.”
Realizing what he had said, Ron seemed to go pale and Harry raised an eyebrow. Was Ron really that frightened about having Hermione think he had a crush on her? Harry shook his head and shrugged in partial answer to Ron’s question.
“I dunno, Ron, but I do want to know who wrote the note--”
“I think that’s a bad idea, Harry, it could be some sort of trap, you know.”
“No one asked you if you were going, Hermione, so what does it matter what you think it is or isn’t?”
Harry pushed way from the table and his half-eaten breakfast. Time to make a quick escape or he would likely find himself in the middle of another phenomenal shouting match.
“Well, thanks for the advice, I’ll just let you know whether I went or not tomorrow morning!”
The two stopped squabbling long enough to watch Harry walk away from the Gryffindor table.
“If he ends up hurt, Ronald, I hope you know it will be entirely your fault.” Hermione sniffed as she gathered up her books.
“It will not!”
With a small ‘humph’ Hermione followed Harry’s path out of the Great Hall.
---------------------------------
Walking down to the lake Harry pondered about who, exactly, his ‘secret admirer’, as Ron had put it, could be. Not that it really mattered to Harry in anything more than a vague type of curiosity. After all there was only one person that Harry would want it to be and that one person it was absolutely not. Imagine, Severus Snape writing a note to arrange a secret, romantic rendezvous with one of his students. The mere idea was laughable.
Still, he thought as he sat down on a sunbathed rock, it couldn’t hurt to find out who wanted to meet him, and why they wanted to. It could be something important after all, someone who needed help or… He paused in his thought process and shook his head. Hermione was right, he really did have a hero complex. He tilted his face into the sun and smiled. Now that Voldemort was gone, in a rather anticlimactic offensive, having a hero complex didn’t matter so much. He just liked helping those who needed helping.
His mind wandered back to the note. The potions section in the library at midnight. What an unlikely place for a meeting. Sure, since the potion books had their own room and a few tables for brewing potions set up it was secluded from the rest of the library, but not many students went in there. Most likely afraid of the possibility of running into Snape. When anyone needed a book for potions they generally checked the book out and found an abandoned classroom in the dungeons to brew in. Where there was a far better chance of running into Snape, in Harry’s opinion.
Harry tilted his head and tried to think up a list of all the people he knew frequented the potions section in the library. Hermione, of course, but it couldn’t be her, she’d warned him against going. Malfoy, but since Harry had defeated Voldemort, Malfoy avoided him like he had the plague. So while that didn’t entirely rule Malfoy out, it was very improbable. Crabbe and Goyle followed Malfoy in there often enough, but Harry didn’t think they were smart enough to write, much less smart enough to be able to use an automated quill.
Standing as a cloud covered the sun, Harry began to make his way back to the castle. Hopefully Hermione and Ron were finished arguing now and ‘Mione would help him make out a list. Unless she was dead-set against him going, that is.
---------------------------------
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Harry.”
“It’s ok, ‘Mione, I’ll be careful I swear. And it’s not like someone’s going to murder me in the library. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Someone could knock you unconscious in the library and drag you out of the castle to murder you.”
Harry laughed. “I’ll be fine! I’ll even take my invisibility cloak.”
Hermione frowned doubtfully. “I don’t like it Harry. Besides the fact that quite a few people know you have an invisibility cloak, I don’t like that we couldn’t come up with a plausible list of people who would want to meet you in the library. It could be anyone! With any motive!”
“Exactly! Any motive. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be someone who necessarily wants to kill me. And not a lot of people know I have an invisibility cloak,” he added belligerently.
“Enough people know and quite a few more suspect, Harry.”
Harry shook his head. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go, with my cloak, and if it’s someone I suspect of having horrible urges to kill me, I’ll sneak away.” He grinned rakishly at her.
The girl sighed and shook her head. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
“Nope. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll come back alive. And when I do, I will tell you everything that happened. All right?”
“All right, Harry. But be careful!”
Harry grinned and swept his invisibility cloak over his head.
“Always, ‘Mione, always.” his disembodied voice echoed slightly in the abandoned common room.
---------------------------------
Severus Snape paced quietly in front of the dying fire in the library’s potions room at precisely eleven forty-five. It wasn’t often that he found himself here, but tonight he needed a repose from life and this was simply where he ended up after an hour of wandering the castle. He liked this small space in the library, the student’s rumors didn’t spring from nowhere. This was where he came and thought, if he needed a few moments space, generally after scaring off a few students.
Tonight, he didn’t really have anything to think about, he was only tired. Bone weary. Life had ceased to surprise him, ceased to challenge him. The war was over and everything had seemed to become monotonous and routine. Stiffly, Severus sat on a threadbare settee by the hearth. The tedium of each day was almost enough to make him wonder if life was worth continuing further.
Reaching up with agile fingers, Severus made short work of the top buttons of his robe and leaned back, into the cushion behind his head. Sighing, he closed his eyes and did something that he hadn’t done since he was a child. He relaxed in the dying glow of the fire.
---------------------------------
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized exactly who was sitting in the small room where he was supposed to meet his ‘secret admirer’. He’d arrived early, just in case, and he saw now that it was probably good that he had. For a few moments he was frozen with surprise, then at last he stepped into the dimly lit space and dropped his invisibility cloak into a corner.
“Professor?”
Snape’s eyes snapped open and he twisted out of the chair. When he realized exactly whose voice had brought him out of his relaxed state, he sneered.
“Potter. What, exactly, are you doing out of Gryffindor tower past curfew?”
“The note, Professor. I never thought… I never imagined…”
“What, exactly, are you blathering on about this time Potter? Because, really, if it’s not too much trouble I could do without the headache your inane prattle is certain to bring about.”
Harry took a deep breath. If Snape didn’t want to hear him talk, then he wouldn’t talk. With three quick steps he was standing directly in front of Snape. He never imagined he’d be in this position, he never thought he’d get this opportunity. Steeling himself with every Gryffindor trait he possessed, Harry attached his lips to his professors.
Snape’s eyes widened as he realized exactly what was happening, and when a sensuous tongue tried to sneak it’s way past his lips, Severus pushed the boy who had some how wound up in his arms away.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, POTTER?!” he roared. “You are my student! What could your feeble Gryffindor mind possibly be thinking to think that--”
Snape suddenly found his mouth occupied with far more important matters than giving this boy ((man)) the tongue lashing of his life; that sly tongue from a few moments before was back and much more insistent on invading his mouth. Severus felt his traitorous arms snaking back around his student’s waist and pulling them closer together as his mouth was assaulted and explored with more interest than he ever would have expected from another person in regards to himself.
Abruptly Potter’s mouth detached itself from his and he groaned at the loss; he was only human, despite what stories the students liked to pass among themselves. He was surprised to find that Potter had somehow maneuvered them to the wall and was presently trapping them there. He was even more surprised at what the boy whispered in his ear when he’d caught some semblance of breath.
“Mollis catena…”
Jerking as the soft restraints slipped themselves around his wrists and anchored themselves into the wall behind him, Severus let loose a low growl.
“Release me, Mr. Potter. Immediately.”
The cheeky brat just smiled at him sultrily and slowly drew two fingers down his face.
Sneering slightly, Severus tried to collect the remains of his wits and ground out in his most dangerous manner, “This has gone far enough, Potter. Release me now and you may come out of this something other than deceased.”
“Shh, Severus, I promise you’ll enjoy this.”
Snape’s opened his mouth to snarl back a scathing reply but found that, once again, his mouth was too occupied with other things, much more pleasant things, for his original course of action. Wandering fingers roamed down his sides and dipped slightly into the waistband of his pants before reaching for the button and zip.
Just when Harry had the button undone, the clock in the main room of the library struck midnight and a wavering, shocked voice invaded the quiet of the room which had previously only been broken by small gasps and moans made by it’s occupants.
“H-Harry?!”
Harry’s fingers fell away from their task and green eyes turned to the doorway with a slight jerk.
“Ron! What--?!”
Ron stepped back from where he stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock.
“I… the note… I wanted… I wrote… Oh, God, Harry, I’m sorry!” Ron stumbled through his words before finally dashing away from the door.
Terrified green eyes met the cool black ones gazing at him from the wall. It had been Ron who had written the note, he realized, not Snape. As if it would have ever been Snape. And now… Now what would happen?
“If you would kindly let me go, Mr. Potter?” Snape raised an eyebrow, more than a little amused by the boy’s obvious terror.
Harry raised his wand and gave it a slight flick. “Liberatio.”
Snape rubbed his wrists as the restraints dissolved and looked up at his student, lips thinning in displeasure.
“Well, Potter?”
“W-well what, s-sir?”
Snape smiled nastily upon hearing the honorific, the boy was practically shaking in his boots. Crossing his arms, he decided, in an uncharacteristic gesture of good will, to let the boy off the hook.
“Well aren’t you going to follow him, Potter? He is your friend, is he not?”
“Yes sir!” the boy turned as quickly as he could to flee.
“And Potter?” Snape smirked as the boy jerked and turned to face him once more.
“Y-yes Professor?”
“Meet me here tomorrow night, the same time.”
Harry grinned and gave a small nod. “Yes,” he paused. “Severus.” He ran out before the Potions Master could say anything.
Shaking his head, Severus returned to his original seat in the room and sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure what he had just gotten himself into, but one thing was for certain. Life would not be boring anymore.
FIN.
Lightly beta-ed, all further mistakes are mine. Sorry. Rushed kinda thing. Lynch me if you must.
Author: freaky_zero
Rating: PG-13/R-ish?
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything, sadly. I make no profit.
A/N: Written for meshell_mybell as part of the snarrydetention ficathon. Requests were (required) dubious consent, light bondage and (optional) student/teacher (seventh year) love triangles, total miscommunication.
Summary: When Harry receives a note from a ‘secret admirer’ he takes his chance! (Yes, I SUCK at summaries.)
The Witching Hour
The library, potions nook, midnight.
Harry blinked owlishly at the note in his hands. Somehow it had been placed inside his bed curtains, although, whether by physical or magical means the Gryffindor wasn’t sure. The parchment had been folded into the shape of a bat and then apparently charmed to flap noisily around his head. It had been the noisy flapping that had woken him up.
Rubbing his eyes sleepily the seventh year student wondered vaguely who the note was from; he didn’t recognize the handwriting, that was certain. Grabbing his wand from under his pillow, he tapped the parchment four times and muttered a common identifier spell.
The words ‘dictation quill’ appeared in a glowing script beneath the original message and Harry fell back onto his pillows with a muffled curse. Allowing the parchment to slip from his fingers, it refolded itself and it took up it’s flight course around Harry’s head once more. More than a little annoyed Harry tightened his grip on the wand still in his hand and aimed it at the ‘bat’ currently zooming around him.
“Finite Incantatem!”
His overzealous spell colliding with the charmed origami made a slight squelching sound and the annoying parchment fell to his bed like a bird shot from the sky. Wincing slightly as the note started smoldering around the edges, Harry wondered if maybe he hadn’t put a bit too much power into his ‘finite incantatem’.
Bugger it anyway, he thought crossly as he tumbled out of bed and headed for the loo.
---------------------------------
Twenty minutes and one shower later Harry was in a much better disposition as he made his way to the Great Hall for a late breakfast. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry was surprised to find Ron and Hermione still there as well as sitting side by side silently. Recently, Ron and Hermione’s trademark squabbles had become rather vicious and Harry was glad, for once, that the two weren’t speaking to each other.
Sifting around in his robe, Harry pulled out his early morning missive and handed it across the table to Hermione.
“I woke up to that,” he nodded to the parchment. “It was making the worst racket flapping around my head. I was wondering if you knew a spell that could tell me who charmed it to fly? I tried to figure it out, but all I got was that it was written with some type of dictation quill. Which is bloody useless.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow primly and quickly glanced over the note she had unfolded while Harry was giving his explanation.
“Well,” she said after a few more moments of examination. “I might have been able to, that is if someone’s shoddy spell work hadn’t obliterated the original magical signature.”
Harry flushed and took a bite of his porridge.
“It was bloody annoying,” he muttered through his food before swallowing. “And I was half asleep.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Really, Harry, half asleep or not, if you would only put the tiniest amount of concentration into--”
Ron cut her off, having read the note over her shoulder. “Are you going to go, mate? It’s almost like you have a secret admirer or something.”
Realizing what he had said, Ron seemed to go pale and Harry raised an eyebrow. Was Ron really that frightened about having Hermione think he had a crush on her? Harry shook his head and shrugged in partial answer to Ron’s question.
“I dunno, Ron, but I do want to know who wrote the note--”
“I think that’s a bad idea, Harry, it could be some sort of trap, you know.”
“No one asked you if you were going, Hermione, so what does it matter what you think it is or isn’t?”
Harry pushed way from the table and his half-eaten breakfast. Time to make a quick escape or he would likely find himself in the middle of another phenomenal shouting match.
“Well, thanks for the advice, I’ll just let you know whether I went or not tomorrow morning!”
The two stopped squabbling long enough to watch Harry walk away from the Gryffindor table.
“If he ends up hurt, Ronald, I hope you know it will be entirely your fault.” Hermione sniffed as she gathered up her books.
“It will not!”
With a small ‘humph’ Hermione followed Harry’s path out of the Great Hall.
---------------------------------
Walking down to the lake Harry pondered about who, exactly, his ‘secret admirer’, as Ron had put it, could be. Not that it really mattered to Harry in anything more than a vague type of curiosity. After all there was only one person that Harry would want it to be and that one person it was absolutely not. Imagine, Severus Snape writing a note to arrange a secret, romantic rendezvous with one of his students. The mere idea was laughable.
Still, he thought as he sat down on a sunbathed rock, it couldn’t hurt to find out who wanted to meet him, and why they wanted to. It could be something important after all, someone who needed help or… He paused in his thought process and shook his head. Hermione was right, he really did have a hero complex. He tilted his face into the sun and smiled. Now that Voldemort was gone, in a rather anticlimactic offensive, having a hero complex didn’t matter so much. He just liked helping those who needed helping.
His mind wandered back to the note. The potions section in the library at midnight. What an unlikely place for a meeting. Sure, since the potion books had their own room and a few tables for brewing potions set up it was secluded from the rest of the library, but not many students went in there. Most likely afraid of the possibility of running into Snape. When anyone needed a book for potions they generally checked the book out and found an abandoned classroom in the dungeons to brew in. Where there was a far better chance of running into Snape, in Harry’s opinion.
Harry tilted his head and tried to think up a list of all the people he knew frequented the potions section in the library. Hermione, of course, but it couldn’t be her, she’d warned him against going. Malfoy, but since Harry had defeated Voldemort, Malfoy avoided him like he had the plague. So while that didn’t entirely rule Malfoy out, it was very improbable. Crabbe and Goyle followed Malfoy in there often enough, but Harry didn’t think they were smart enough to write, much less smart enough to be able to use an automated quill.
Standing as a cloud covered the sun, Harry began to make his way back to the castle. Hopefully Hermione and Ron were finished arguing now and ‘Mione would help him make out a list. Unless she was dead-set against him going, that is.
---------------------------------
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Harry.”
“It’s ok, ‘Mione, I’ll be careful I swear. And it’s not like someone’s going to murder me in the library. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Someone could knock you unconscious in the library and drag you out of the castle to murder you.”
Harry laughed. “I’ll be fine! I’ll even take my invisibility cloak.”
Hermione frowned doubtfully. “I don’t like it Harry. Besides the fact that quite a few people know you have an invisibility cloak, I don’t like that we couldn’t come up with a plausible list of people who would want to meet you in the library. It could be anyone! With any motive!”
“Exactly! Any motive. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be someone who necessarily wants to kill me. And not a lot of people know I have an invisibility cloak,” he added belligerently.
“Enough people know and quite a few more suspect, Harry.”
Harry shook his head. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go, with my cloak, and if it’s someone I suspect of having horrible urges to kill me, I’ll sneak away.” He grinned rakishly at her.
The girl sighed and shook her head. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
“Nope. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll come back alive. And when I do, I will tell you everything that happened. All right?”
“All right, Harry. But be careful!”
Harry grinned and swept his invisibility cloak over his head.
“Always, ‘Mione, always.” his disembodied voice echoed slightly in the abandoned common room.
---------------------------------
Severus Snape paced quietly in front of the dying fire in the library’s potions room at precisely eleven forty-five. It wasn’t often that he found himself here, but tonight he needed a repose from life and this was simply where he ended up after an hour of wandering the castle. He liked this small space in the library, the student’s rumors didn’t spring from nowhere. This was where he came and thought, if he needed a few moments space, generally after scaring off a few students.
Tonight, he didn’t really have anything to think about, he was only tired. Bone weary. Life had ceased to surprise him, ceased to challenge him. The war was over and everything had seemed to become monotonous and routine. Stiffly, Severus sat on a threadbare settee by the hearth. The tedium of each day was almost enough to make him wonder if life was worth continuing further.
Reaching up with agile fingers, Severus made short work of the top buttons of his robe and leaned back, into the cushion behind his head. Sighing, he closed his eyes and did something that he hadn’t done since he was a child. He relaxed in the dying glow of the fire.
---------------------------------
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized exactly who was sitting in the small room where he was supposed to meet his ‘secret admirer’. He’d arrived early, just in case, and he saw now that it was probably good that he had. For a few moments he was frozen with surprise, then at last he stepped into the dimly lit space and dropped his invisibility cloak into a corner.
“Professor?”
Snape’s eyes snapped open and he twisted out of the chair. When he realized exactly whose voice had brought him out of his relaxed state, he sneered.
“Potter. What, exactly, are you doing out of Gryffindor tower past curfew?”
“The note, Professor. I never thought… I never imagined…”
“What, exactly, are you blathering on about this time Potter? Because, really, if it’s not too much trouble I could do without the headache your inane prattle is certain to bring about.”
Harry took a deep breath. If Snape didn’t want to hear him talk, then he wouldn’t talk. With three quick steps he was standing directly in front of Snape. He never imagined he’d be in this position, he never thought he’d get this opportunity. Steeling himself with every Gryffindor trait he possessed, Harry attached his lips to his professors.
Snape’s eyes widened as he realized exactly what was happening, and when a sensuous tongue tried to sneak it’s way past his lips, Severus pushed the boy who had some how wound up in his arms away.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, POTTER?!” he roared. “You are my student! What could your feeble Gryffindor mind possibly be thinking to think that--”
Snape suddenly found his mouth occupied with far more important matters than giving this boy ((man)) the tongue lashing of his life; that sly tongue from a few moments before was back and much more insistent on invading his mouth. Severus felt his traitorous arms snaking back around his student’s waist and pulling them closer together as his mouth was assaulted and explored with more interest than he ever would have expected from another person in regards to himself.
Abruptly Potter’s mouth detached itself from his and he groaned at the loss; he was only human, despite what stories the students liked to pass among themselves. He was surprised to find that Potter had somehow maneuvered them to the wall and was presently trapping them there. He was even more surprised at what the boy whispered in his ear when he’d caught some semblance of breath.
“Mollis catena…”
Jerking as the soft restraints slipped themselves around his wrists and anchored themselves into the wall behind him, Severus let loose a low growl.
“Release me, Mr. Potter. Immediately.”
The cheeky brat just smiled at him sultrily and slowly drew two fingers down his face.
Sneering slightly, Severus tried to collect the remains of his wits and ground out in his most dangerous manner, “This has gone far enough, Potter. Release me now and you may come out of this something other than deceased.”
“Shh, Severus, I promise you’ll enjoy this.”
Snape’s opened his mouth to snarl back a scathing reply but found that, once again, his mouth was too occupied with other things, much more pleasant things, for his original course of action. Wandering fingers roamed down his sides and dipped slightly into the waistband of his pants before reaching for the button and zip.
Just when Harry had the button undone, the clock in the main room of the library struck midnight and a wavering, shocked voice invaded the quiet of the room which had previously only been broken by small gasps and moans made by it’s occupants.
“H-Harry?!”
Harry’s fingers fell away from their task and green eyes turned to the doorway with a slight jerk.
“Ron! What--?!”
Ron stepped back from where he stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock.
“I… the note… I wanted… I wrote… Oh, God, Harry, I’m sorry!” Ron stumbled through his words before finally dashing away from the door.
Terrified green eyes met the cool black ones gazing at him from the wall. It had been Ron who had written the note, he realized, not Snape. As if it would have ever been Snape. And now… Now what would happen?
“If you would kindly let me go, Mr. Potter?” Snape raised an eyebrow, more than a little amused by the boy’s obvious terror.
Harry raised his wand and gave it a slight flick. “Liberatio.”
Snape rubbed his wrists as the restraints dissolved and looked up at his student, lips thinning in displeasure.
“Well, Potter?”
“W-well what, s-sir?”
Snape smiled nastily upon hearing the honorific, the boy was practically shaking in his boots. Crossing his arms, he decided, in an uncharacteristic gesture of good will, to let the boy off the hook.
“Well aren’t you going to follow him, Potter? He is your friend, is he not?”
“Yes sir!” the boy turned as quickly as he could to flee.
“And Potter?” Snape smirked as the boy jerked and turned to face him once more.
“Y-yes Professor?”
“Meet me here tomorrow night, the same time.”
Harry grinned and gave a small nod. “Yes,” he paused. “Severus.” He ran out before the Potions Master could say anything.
Shaking his head, Severus returned to his original seat in the room and sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure what he had just gotten himself into, but one thing was for certain. Life would not be boring anymore.
FIN.
Lightly beta-ed, all further mistakes are mine. Sorry. Rushed kinda thing. Lynch me if you must.