Only once isn't enough.

Disclaimer: I do not own this story, well, I do, but I don't own the Harry Potter universe, and I'm making no money at all writing this, in fact, all I'm doing is wasting my time.

A\N: A personal challenge from my sister. "What if Snape hated James for a different reason?" This is mid-HBP, so Dumbly-do is not dead yet. And If people review enough, I might write a sequel. So, vote for me, Kireshai!!

Warnings: M-preg, slash!!!!, swearing.

Harry was sick of it. He was more than over Snape's treatment of him. He was sick of being singled out for punishment, sick of being victimised. Sure, it was his own fault, after the pensieve incident, and then the 'sectumsempra' incident, but enough was enough!

It was true also, that Harry had his ulterior motives for confronting the man, but at the time he was blinded by the pure anger he felt as he marched to the office. He burst loudly into his professor's office, and was rewarded with an expression of pure shock.

The expression was quickly hidden behind the cold mask, as the curt voiced quipped at him, "Leave my office now, Potter, unless you wish to face the consequences, and ten points from Gryffindor for your shocking manners."

"No." Harry whispered, voice wavering angrily. "I want to talk to you, I want you to listen and you will answer."

"Excuse me?" Snape stood. "What has given you the right to command me?"

Harry glared at his professor, before yelling out. "Why do you hate me?"

Snape sneered unpleasantly. "That's none of your business."

Harry stepped closer to the considerably taller man, being almost dwarfed by his height. "I think it is."

"Oh really?" Snape's voice dripped with venom. "And just why is that?"

"Because," Harry spat, "your treatment of me, and your feelings towards me affect me on a day-to-day basis. And adding to that, it is based entirely on your interaction with another person, and not on your experiences with me."

At his words, Snape flushed slightly. Harry caught a glimpse of it, before the other man turned away and hissed. "Need I remind you that I have many reasons to hate you?"

"As do I! But your feelings aren't based on those occurrences! Your mind was made up the moment I started at this school, and your attitude has not changed since!"

Then Snape did something that shocked Harry to the core. He laughed. A dry, bitter, defeated laugh at most, but nonetheless, a laugh. "I cannot believe that, for once, you are right, Mr Potter. I must admit, I never expected it to happen."

Harry stared at his professor, amazed by this transition.

"I might as well tell you why. Sit down, Potter." He gestured to a chair, whilst sitting on the one opposite. Unlike usual, his posture was relaxed, loose.

Harry sat, his body rigid. "Ummm... Professor?" He spoke warily. "Are you... alright?"

"I am fine." He muttered. Sitting straight, he stared directly at Harry for a few moments, before speaking again. "You are right. I do not hate you because of your behaviour, despite the fact that I find it objectionable. I hate you, as you well know, because you are the progeny of James Potter. But I do not dislike him for the reason you think."

Harry found this puzzling, but did not speak, afraid he would anger Snape. And he needed to know. What other reason could there be for so strong a dislike?

"The truth is, when I was sixteen, one night, I got really drunk. And well, your father and I..." He looked down, embarrassed "And well, you follow, I hope." Harry was astonished by this. But he was even more amazed by the next set of words that came out of the man's mouth. "He was the best shag I ever had."

"Then... Why do you hate him?"

"Because." Snape looked up, suddenly angry. "Next day he was walking around with Lily as if nothing had happened between us, and it hurt."

Harry realised something, and started to blush profusely. "What day was it?"

"February the third." Snape looked at him sharply. "Why?"

"Well, remember that I collapsed during class on February the third this year?"

"How is that important?" Snape continued to glare at him.

"Well," Harry gulped, "While I was unconcious, my spirit had gone back in time and materialised there. It had actually been forced back by Ron's shitload of a potion. And, it went back exactly twenty years, to the second. I had a physical presence there, until, exactly twenty years later, my body recovered from the condition."

Snape frowned, then understanding suddenly dawned on his face. "So, you're saying that... Not possible." Snape shook his head emphatically. "I will not believe that."

"Whether you believe it or not is not the point. It happened." Harry challenged Snape with his every word.

"PROVE IT."

Harry put his wand to his temple and dragged away, envisioning the memory of that night in his mind. "Do you have a pensieve?"

Harry stood before the wooden bowl, its contents swirling ominously. With a nod from his professor, he placed his hand in the liquid, and he was falling into the hogwarts potions lab. When he landed, he saw himself lying on the dungeon floor. As he watched himself stir, he felt Snape landing next to him.

Pensieve Harry sat up slowly, then looked carefully around the dungeon. Upon registering the fact that he was alone, he stood, muttering. "What the fuck? Don't tell me they left me when I collapsed!"

He walked to the door, opened it, and walked outside, silently followed by his watchers. Once out the door, he strode along the corridor, quickly checking his watch. He made his way to the entrance hall. Once there, he pushed open the doors to the great hall.

Inside, he could see dinner in full swing.Eyes roaming over the Gryffindor table, he searched for Ron and Hermione. But he couldn't spot them. Who he did find, however, made him turn and run from the hall and out into the grounds.

As his shadows followed, he sprinted to the little cottage on the edge of the forbidden forest. He knocked twice on the door, before yelling. "Hagrid!"

Muffled footfalls came from inside the building. "Al' Righ'! 'm comin'!" The door opened to a clean shaven Hagrid. "Why, Potter, wha'd yer wan' terday?"

"Why did you shave your beard, Hagrid?" Pensieve Harry was staring in shock.

"Wha' are yer talkun' 'bout, Potter?"

"And why aren't you calling me Harry?"

"Because 'at's not yer name, o'course!" Hagrid looked at him suspiciously. "'Ey, why're yer wearun' glasses, James?"

Harry stepped back, horrified, turned on his heel, and ran. His shadows sped after him. As he ran, pensieve Harry removed his glasses, and consequentially ran into another person blocking his road.

"Hello, Potter." There was a slight slur in the cold voice.

Pensieve Harry seemed to recognise it, however, for he looked up, straight into the eyes of his sixteen year old potions professor.

"Professor! I'm so glad I found you!" Harry hugged the man hard, before letting go.

"Professsssor? I'm not a professsssor, Potter. Are you being cheeky wiv me?" Snape drew his wand. "Acshually, don't bover. I'll 'ex you right here and now for dat one."

Harry backed away slowly, reaching into his robes to look for his wand, which was still in the potions classroom twenty years into the future. "Sir, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm ssir, now, am I? I'll teach you t-" With that, Snape collapsed, out cold, on the hard stone floor.

"I don't remember that."

"I'm not surprised."

Pensieve Harry dragged Snape to the nearest classroom, setting him down against the wall. Crouching next to him, Harry lifted a hand to his face, brushing the dark hair from the closed eyelids.

"You know, professor, when you're asleep, you're quite beautiful." Harry leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips against the other man's. Snape groaned, and Harry sat back, blushing profusely.

"Potter?" Snape opened his eyes. "What was that?"

"Um.. Er.." Harry stood quickly. "I've got to go!" He turned towards the door.

Snape grabbed his hand. "I know what it was, Potter." Snape smirked at the turned back. "So do it again. Only, this time, put more fire into it."

Harry looked back at him. "What?"

"Do it again, Potter."

That's what Pensieve Harry did. As they kissed passionately, real Harry looked at his Snape counterpart. He could see the look of constraint on the aged face. And when he saw that look, he knew it would come to nothing.

Severus could not believe it. He was not sitting, well, standing really, and watching one of the biggest events of his life. Only, he'd got it all wrong.

The person he'd always thought had done it to spite him, had not been involved at all. Well, not directly. It had all been Harry. And it had had no follow up because Harry couldn't follow it up. All those emotions he had felt. They were all wrong.

After watching a bit of canoodling go on, Snape cleared his throat. "I think that we've witnessed enough of this. I believe you now." He took Harry's shoulder in his hand, and they fell back into his office.

"Well sir, I'm glad that you know now. And there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about..." Harry seemed nervous to him. He was shuffling his feet, and fiddling with his robes.

"What did you want to say?"

"Well..."

"Spit it out, boy!"

Harry flinched at the words, but spoke. "Well, because of that night..." Harry looked directly into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Ta Daaa! All done! I am a fabulous writer, worship me!! Just kidding!! But I would appreciate if you reviewed ma fic! So, review!