AN: Continuing with the weirdness that is my writing (and subsequently my mind): I was thinking about fairy tales and true love's kiss and all that rot (I took a Children's Literature course this summer, so there was a lot of that going on in my reading) and this idea popped into my head. I might elaborate upon it at some point if I get the inspiration, because there are so many ways a story like this could continue...
"Potter, drink this," Snape ordered.
"I shan't," said Harry.
Snape's eye twitched, but he forced himself to calm. Potter had lost his memory, so it was understandable that he acted a little out of character. "I understand that this must be difficult for you, Mr. Potter—"
"Call me Harry," Harry simpered, fluttering his eyelashes.
Snape twitched but continued, "But you will drink this potion. It will help you to retrieve your memories and everything will go back to normal. You will graduate and I will never have to see you again."
"Oh, Severus, do you really feel that way about me?" Harry wondered, clutching his heart.
"Yes," Snape snapped. "Now drink the bloody potion before I make you."
"Fine, I'll drink it," Harry said sadly.
"Good," Snape said, handing him the potion.
"I'll drink it," Harry said, grabbing the potion. "But first you must kiss me."
Snape sputtered for a moment before roaring, "Drink the fucking potion, Potter!"
"I shan't drink the potion 'til you kiss me. And don't think of forcing me to drink it, for I shall smash this one. And if you return with another, then I shan't open my mouth!"
"You'll have to if you can't breathe," Snape growled.
"If you make me drink it, then I shall just have to retch it back up and we shall be right back to where we started," Harry announced primly.
"No. You'll have to go on without memories, if that's the case. I refuse to touch you."
"It's just one kiss, Severus," Harry promised. "Just one kiss and it'll all be over."
"Why in Merlin's name are you acting like a princess? What kind of curse are you under?" Snape demanded. "Potter never acted like some smitten princess. In fact, Potter hated me as much as I loathed him! I miss that Potter."
"So you do like me, then?"
"I will like you if you drink that potion and return to how you were. Once you regain your memories and your mind, I'll kiss you then if you really want me to."
Harry narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. "I don't believe you. And wouldn't it be wonderful if your kiss cured me of my forgetfulness? It would be just like in a fairy story! And we could tell the story to our children. They will surely love such a tale of romance, don't you think?"
Snape let out a hiss, cursing the recently expired Dark Lord. If Voldemort had not cursed Potter with his last breath, then he wouldn't be in this situation. The Dark Lord could have spewed any number of curses, and yet his first thought was some mind-fucking fairy tale curse. Snape didn't understand why Poppy refused to put the boy to sleep and force his unconscious body to ingest the potion. Something about having to sleep a hundred years... But even if the brat would have to sleep a hundred years, it would still be easier for all parties involved. Once Potter regained his mind, he'd be furious and disgusted with how he'd acted. He'd probably kill Snape, and Snape had only barely saved his own life. He wasn't about to risk it for an imbecilic thing like kissing Potter.
"Oh, please, Severus! I just want one kiss. It doesn't have to be a long one. Just a peck, even! I swear I shall leave you alone after this. I swear it!"
"Fine. But if you speak of this to anyone, Potter, anyone, then you'll wish you were never born."
"Oh, I shan't tell a soul! It will be a secret shared betwixt two lovers."
Snape rolled his eyes and grit his yellowed teeth. This was utterly ridiculous, and he couldn't believe that he was even considering doing this, but if Potter wasn't back to normal within a week, then all Hell would break loose and he would go to Azkaban. For some reason the entire wizarding world but for a few (Albus and Minerva) blamed him for Potter's lapse in memory and sanity. As if he'd get some kick out of seeing Potter act like a fool – a lovesick fool, no less.
Harry leaned forward eagerly, eyelashes fluttering and lips puckered softly. He was finally going to be kissed! He felt as though he'd waited an eternity for his Prince to find him.
Snape grimaced, but shook himself and told himself that it was for the best. If he wanted to continue living his life as he did, then he would get over it and kiss Potter. So he took Potter's slim face in his hands (not thinking about how soft the boy's skin was) and slowly leaned forward. Their breaths mingled for a gentle moment and Potter's breath hitched. Snape held his breath and pressed forward, his dry lips meeting Potter's soft, silken ones. Immediately Potter's arms wound around his neck and he let out a breathy moan before pressing his smooth lips harder against his Professor's and deepening the kiss. His silken tongue swept along Snape's bottom lip and dipped into his mouth when the older man gasped.
Harry was in heaven. He was finally kissing his Prince! And his Prince was enjoying it! He wasn't pulling away! Harry pulled his love forward and laid down gently upon the bed, whimpering when he felt Severus' weight press down on him. Harry opened his legs and pulled his love closer, unable to stop.
Snape was in a dream. There was no way that this was happening. How could he be kissing Potter? How could he be enjoying it? And how could it be that his clothes were lost along the way, and his hands were gliding gently along Potter's soft, creamy, naked skin? He had lost control of himself, and he couldn't explain how that had happened. But it did. Just as Harry's body pulled him in deeper, just as Harry's legs wrapped around him, just as he thrust into the warm, welcoming body. They made love quietly, gently. Their soft moans and whimpers were like whispers in the silent room. They rocked almost lovingly against one another, sweat glistening on their skin. And then they came with a cry, holding each other tightly as though afraid they would disappear, that the moment would prove to be a dream. When it was over, Severus pulled out and lay beside Harry, his chest heaving with his panting breaths.
"I remember," Harry whispered.
"What?" Snape wondered breathlessly.
"My memories. I remember now."
Snape stiffened for a moment before turning towards the side of the bed and pulling on his clothes.
"Severus, I swear that I only remembered after we... after."
"Don't call me that," Snape snarled. "And put some clothes on, you look pathetic!"
Harry winced when the door to his secluded room slammed. He felt his heart sink. Tears filled his eyes, but he pushed them back. It was a spell, a curse. And now it was gone, but Harry could remember everything. He could remember loving Snape – and it was odd, because he'd never felt anything but hatred before. But he remembered loving the man, and he remembered their lovemaking and how sweet it was. How gentle, how loving. He'd never experienced anything like that before. The trysts he'd had with Ginny were nothing like what he'd had with Snape. There was no love there. And Harry was starting to realize that there never would be. He felt – no he knew that he would never feel for anyone what he now felt for Snape. Perhaps it was just the remnants of Voldemort's fairy curse, but it didn't matter. Never had Harry felt something so pure, so gentle, so passionate. And it was all for Snape. All for the man who had just walked out on him. All for the man who would never feel anything but hatred for Harry. Harry sobbed, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shook. He felt so stupid. He might not be a princess, and Snape might not be his prince, but for a while it had been true. And now Harry was alone. And he would always be alone, because a princess didn't remarry after losing her true love.
