AN: Bwa! Alright, this story is dedicated to my Wonder Triad: Read300300, The Light In The Shadows, and DarkJediQueen. But, of course, is made in thoughts of Light (who poked my brain with a bunnyfic stick . . . Ow, by the way). Much luv to all three of you!
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Don't own Harry Potter characters.
"Your homework for this evening is to find a counter curse for the Spex Hex. I don't want any of you having to walk around the rest of your life with eyes the size of watermelons, so, please, do study it!"
Harry glances over his scrambling first years with amusement before turning to rearrange the arayment of papers fluttering about the disorganized desk behind him. It seems like only yesterday that he had been sitting there listening to, yet another, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Oh, how the times have changed.
Not only has he been able to keep his job here at Hogwarts for an astounding record of five years, he has also been able to work with some of his former teachers . . .
"A most interesting lesson, if I do say so myself," comes a harsh, sultry voice from behind the young professor.
. . . some more pleasant than others.
"And, of course, you always do," Harry replies gently, not bothering to turn around. "You stayed the whole lesson, then?"
"As I said," the tall, dark man says, standing from one of the desks near the door and slowly walking toward him as he clasps his hands behind his back. "Interesting."
"And what, exactly, was so 'interesting' about it?"
Harry smirks as he hears the classroom door slam closed. When no response comes, the young man turns to find Snape's pale, gaunt face barely an inch from his own, his breath hot against his cool skin.
"I found the part I enjoyed most," the older man replies quietly, placing a hand on either side of the other man, palms flat on the desk and pressing himself closer so that Harry is forced to lean backwards over his books, "was when you bit your lower lip everytime Weasley raised his hand with a correct answer."
Ron and Hermione's son reminds Harry so much of the old days. It seems that, perhaps, Ronald Weasley Jr. would be leaving his mother's O.W.L. scores in the dust.
"But I wasn't so much listening to the Weasley boy spout off every textbook answer he has ever memorized as I was . . . staring at you," Snape replies with a smirk.
"I thought as much," Harry returns with a quirk of his left eyebrow.
Snape continues to invade the young professor's personal space, but Harry continues to lean backwards, nearly lying on his desk now.
"I have another class in twenty minutes," he whispers warningly, but Snape merely smiles and swipes a stray lock of hair from Harry's forehead, an odd sort of gesture given his normally grim and gritty nature.
"I won't need that long," he promises boldly, grabbing the back of the younger man's head and pulling him into a sharp, warm kiss.
And, indeed, he did not need twenty minutes at all.
AN: Questions? Comments? Vague disregard to any or all words written and established in the mind of one who has no sanity?
Hmm . . . This turned out different than when I had originally planned it . . . Okay! Well, hope it is liked. Gravy, I'm tired. I'll talk to ya guys later when my brain decides to reboot.