Hello, everybody! This is your captain speaking. I haven't written a fanfiction in eons, so feel free to give advice or constructive criticism. Also, if you have any suggestions for the plot later on, I'd love to hear them. :)

I'm pretty sure this is canon through Book Five, but later I might have to adjust it... who knows? Otherwise, I guess it's AU. Duh.

This story is the child of many sleepless nights spent with Josephine Darcy and all of the other wonderful Snarry authors out there... I hope you enjoy it. Of course, there's the token statement... It's manlove. Gay people. If you don't like it, no one's forcing you to keep reading. Or to flame. So... be warned.

Disclaimer: If I owned Alan Rickman, the world would be a wonderful place. Alas, though... I do not own him, and life sucks. The same goes for the HP universe and anything else that's obviously not mine. I doubt I could make a profit off of this if I tried.

Love,

ElectricRook

The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back

Double Potions had started out normally enough. Snape had informed the class they were preparing Litany of Amaranth, making sure to sprinkle in a few jabs meant especially for Harry. This was nothing new. It barely bothered him anymore.

The potion, which was not overly difficult to make but had very particular directions, had been going well for the most part. Harry added a fistful of Saint John's Wort here and a vial of dissolved bat fur there, just as Snape had instructed, checking with Hermione every so often to make sure he was correct. It would have gone on this way, except that once Harry had reached the fourth step, he accidentally added powdered cobalt instead of indigo. This in itself was not a major mistake, and when he noticed, Hermione helped him to neutralize the cobalt with fig skin, and then add the required indigo, fixing the potion almost immediately. However, it appeared luck was not with him, because Malfoy noticed his slip up and decided that it would be grand to bother Harry about it for the rest of the class.

When he managed to catch Harry's eye, he mouthed "idiot" at him and flicked a piece of parchment his way. Groaning inwardly, Harry opened it, knowing Malfoy would not allow him to ignore it and finish the class in peace. The note read, "A half-blood needing help from a mudblood? The Dark Lord would be sick. It's a shame your parents aren't around to congratulate you on being a blood traitor." Hermione peered around, trying to read the scrap of parchment.

She raised her eyebrows, curious and completely unaware that she had just been insulted. Harry crumpled the paper into a little ball before she could see it. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Just a reminder I wrote to myself yesterday. Be right back." He made his way to the back of the class to throw the note in the garbage.

It seemed Snape was in the mood to make his life miserable that day, because just as Harry had started to make his way back to his desk, he drawled, "Mister Potter... Would you like to explain why you have left your cauldron unattended?" Harry bowed his head, deermined not to lose his temper over something so idiotic.

"Sorry, sir. I was just throwing something away. I'm going back right now."

The Potions Master merely raised his eyebrow and dismissed Harry's response with a lazy wave of his hand. "A love note from one of your endless admirers, no doubt."

Gritting his teeth a little, Harry managed not to retort. He had learned years ago that blaming Malfoy was fruitless, and it was easier to let Snape's flippant insults slide... Not that he was very good at it.

Shut up. Just shut up and let me get through your stupid class. Please, for once... He made his weary way back to his desk and slumped down. Hermione looked at him knowingly and offered a sympathetic smile, which made him feel the tiniest bit better. He tried to think of the trip he would be taking to Hogsmeade that evening, planning what to buy at Honeydukes and the used bookstore that had recently opened. He heard they actually had a decent selection of muggle books, which he couldn't wait to look through. He and Hermione shared a fondness for muggle authors, both having grown up outside of the Wizarding World, and decided to look in the store together while Ron visited his brothers for a few extra minutes in their joke shop. All in all, it would be a lovely day if he could manage not to get detention until five o'clock.

It was during this little daydream that a certain ferrety blond managed to slip several fistfuls of boomslang teeth (known to be highly reactive when mixed with bat fur) into Harry's cauldron, which turned it a foamy salmon color. It began to froth, and when Hermione noticed, she elbowed him hard, bringing him back to the real world. She gestured at his now fizzing potion and shrugged, looking confused, as if to say, Did you do that?

The dark-haired boy's eyes snapped open, and he shook his head emphatically. They both desperately tried to think of ways to neutralize the unstable mixture, but not knowing what had been done incorrectly, they couldn't safely add anything else. The brew was now emitting jets of foul-smelling steam, which immediately caught the attention of their beloved Professor. The stomped over, robes billowing out forbiddingly behind him.

"Potter," he began, every syllable coated in acid, "am I to believe that you are truly incapable of even the simplest of exercises?"

"Sir, I-"

"Silence. It is obvious that you added boomslang skin to the mixture, when my instructions clearly said that you were not to do so... at the risk of creating an unstable solution. Surely your imbecilic brain understands the words 'do' and 'not'... or maybe you have even more in common with your father than I gave you credit for."

Harry was sure that his teeth must have been ground into a fine powder by then. Realizing something, he scanned the ingredients that remained on his worktop, and noticed Hermione doing the same. She spoke up before he did.

"Professor... I was with Harry when we got our ingredients. Neither of us got out any boomslang teeth." She leveled her gaze with his, not yet impolite, but still firm in her assertion.

Snape looked at both of them for a moment before sneering and saying, "Fifteen points from Gryffindor. Do not sass me, Miss Granger." She tipped her head back at the ceiling, pinching her eyes shut and grimacing, annoyed with both herself and the teacher in front of her. Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze from under the table but continued to stare at Snape, still not satisfied.

"She's telling the truth, sir. The last thing I put in was tincture of ox blood. I was just waiting for it to simmer before I added the lemongrass." He lowered his head. He really just wanted this class to be over so he could escape to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione. That was all. He didn't want to start anything. Honest.

Snape narrowed his eyes, still not satisfied. "Then how do you propose boomslang teeth joined your little... medley... of ingredients?"

It was then that he noticed Malfoy, who mock-bowed at Harry, a smug look plastered all over his face. Of course. Who else would do something like that? He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to quell the anger rising in the back of his throat. He managed to force out, "I don't know, sir." Exposing Malfoy would do nothing but complicate matters.

Snape blinked impassively, thinking god only knew what. "Very well. Twenty points from Gryffindor, for wasting materials." With that he stalked away, fingers clenching into a pale fist.

Harry banged his head against the countertop, cursing the existence of Snape, Malfoy and boomslangs. Even after all this, he would have made it. He was so close, so very close to succeeding... But when he looked over to see Draco smirking like the little bastard he was, he just lost it.

"TARANTALLEGRA!" he shouted, aiming his wand at Malfoy's gut. And then, just for good measure, he added "FURNUNCULUS!" Ha. Now Malfoy was ugly and dancing.

Breathing a little heavily, he didn't even bat an eye when Snape strode over and grabbed a handful of his jumper, yelling all sorts of insults. He just locked gazes with the man before shoving the contents of his cauldron over on his robes, causing Snape to release him in shock. Steam began to rise immediately, and after a second, the black cloth actually burst into hissing green flames, but Harry didn't notice. He was already half way out the door.