Another silly piece out of the seemingly bottomless Potter verse.

The idea that started it popped up on a bike tour. Suddenly I was giggling madly (not so uncommon with me:-) with the thought of Severus Snape on a bike, robes billowing etc.

But I had no idea how to put him there.

Then I read some stuff by Cybele, where she puts Harry and Snape and Ron into a bottle, and doesn't really care to tell how they got there (I love that story, btw, Cybele, and especially your way of Severus being not so sure how he got into it all, bloody brilliant, and not just a bit Slytherin, I think:-) It's here, go read it!

http://www.sockiipress.org/~luthien/snapeff/archive/retreat.html

The story brought all kinds of images to mind and from Jeannie, living in a bottle, it was not so very far to Newman and Redford, the heroes of a very nice film with a sad ending.

I added another device of the readings of my childhood, where the action takes place. So beware: extreme insight into the sorry pictures that haunt a twisted mind.

And to hell with plot!:-)

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Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head

"Yes Professor, you can do it. That's just fine".

Harry Potter tried to convey calm confidence and nothing more with his voice. But it was not easy. Seeing Professor Severus Snape in this awkward position and not laugh one's head off, was really hard.

But he tried to be a good teacher. What was more than could be said of some other people he knew.

He shot Ron a glance. His friend clearly hadn't his moral superiority. He tried to suppress his roaring laughter by biting into his hand, but to no avail.

The face of the Professor got even stonier.

"You're sure that we have to do this, Potter?"

Harry allowed himself a smirk. He was the Boy Who Lived. But no saint. Really. He was 17 years old and had the teacher who had been torturing him for nearly 7 of them at his mercy. Nobody could expect of him that he hid his feeling as well as the old bat did, couldn't they.

Surely not.

"Professor Dumbledore told us, Sir", Harry replied cheerfully. "I'm only doing what he told me to do".

A dark glance of utter venom. "Which has always been your specialty, Potter, has it not? To do what you are told?"

Harry smirked even more. He couldn't refrain from it, the sight was just too much for him.

"You can't talk, really, Professor".

The best of it was, that, strictly speaking, Snape was not his teacher anymore. Not at the moment.

Harry was the teacher on this special task. Afterwards, when Snape would have learnt, they were supposed to work as equals. Which was something. More than there had ever been before.

But for this glorious if short-lived moment, he allowed himself to relish the feeling that for once he was the master and Snape the pupil.

Snape shot Harry a look that would have killed him a few years ago. Now he knew that the Potions master was venomous, yes, but didn't bite nearly as much as he barked.

At least he hadn't done so until now.

Which was something. His last remark had been quite impertinent, he knew it.

But really, Snape was a very bad student.

"Look at Ron, Professor. He's just doing fine".

Of course now Ron would show off a little. Couldn't be helped. He had had his fair share of abuse by Snape.

And not Harry's amiable temper.

And not the – advantage of having worked with Snape apart from class earlier.

And Ron was not the teacher here, but only Snape's fellow student.

All of which worked together in Ron showing off shamelessly that at this special task he was a lot better than the Potions master.

Harry couldn't bring himself to feel quite sorry for Snape.

Not that the old bat would have wanted anything like that, either.

Many things had changed with the wars going on and on and on and the latest final failure of Voldemort to return to his old power. But not that Severus Snape would have the head of any person that offered him as much as a sympathetic glance.

And so none did.

It would be no small wonder if all of them survived the order Dumbledore had given them.

It had been difficult enough with only Harry and Snape involved. But now Ron had come into that already unstable mix and added the fuse.

The shadows became darker, looming ominously around Snape as Ron showed his long time teacher how well he could do what Snape only just about managed – not.

'Whoops', Harry thought. 'Down again.'

"Don't worry, Professor", he shouted over the yard. "You are doing better and better".

The answer was a murderous glare of Snape, straightening his back, assembling all his joints and robes and setting to the task again.

Persistent little bugger, he was. Harry gave him credit for that.

He showed him a thumbs-up.

Snape cocked that eyebrow. He could see it clearly, far away as Snape was.

"Spare me, Mr. Potter", Snape said with that voice that was so low, yet clearly audible.

Harry just about managed not to shiver. Visibly.

That voice of Snape should come with a surgeon general's warning, he had often thought. It might be dangerous to children and pregnant women alike. But nobody had taken care of that. Especially not at Hogwarts.

He tried to make his most cheerful yet long-suffering face. The Boy Who Could Do No Harm.

He heard Snape growl. Positively. That man was a menace to society, much more so than Remus had ever been, even before the Wolfsbane potion.

"Potter". Really, the man could do things to a word, a name, that were simply – obscene. Harry felt like being stabbed and torn open and dissected. He shivered.

The worst part of it was that it didn't feel exactly bad.