This fic was inspired by the band Jars of Clay. They have a music video of their song called "Work," where Severus stars as the lead singer, and I saw it, and then I had to write this story. (You should all go watch the video on Youtube, right now, because it's hilarious!)

Much thanks go to my amazing beta, girlwithsixarms.

As ever, I don't own them, I just torture them, and reviews make my world turn.

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Harry stumbled into their chambers carrying a stack of papers and dumped them on the floor before he collapsed into the couch. Severus looked up at the frustrated wizard from his seat at the table where he'd been viciously grading essays. From Harry's vantage point from the couch, the top paper looked like somebody had bled all over it, and he almost pitied the student before he remembered his resolve.

"Severus." Harry gave a deep sigh.

"Harry." There was a question in his voice.

"Severus." A bit more whining, that time.

"Harry." And he received a sterner reply.

"Severus, the students are moronic!"

"You've only just realized? Hmm. You must be dimmer than I thought." Severus turned back to his grading.

Harry fidgeted, curled up in the couch uneasily. "Well now that Voldemort's dead, none of them care about actually learning Defense. I've got the classes under control now, but all they really want are these epic war stories wrapped in some stupid Happily Ever After dreamworld, and…"

Severus detected that something big was going to happen. He put down his quill and went to sit beside Harry, enveloping the younger wizard in his arms.

"It should be fine. The students like me, there's not a lot of trouble. Well, Smithton got his nose blasted off, somehow, by an immobilizing hex that they were practicing today in class…" His green eyes grew troubled. "It should be fine, but it's not." There was a long pause. "You know, Hermione and I used to joke that after we finished Voldemort we'd become Muggle rock stars."

"Excuse me?" Severus's arms tightened around him, shocked.

"Well," Harry shrugged. "I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after he was killed. After all the training to kill him I didn't particularly want to be an Auror anymore, and it wasn't like I had any other skills, really, so singing was our fallback. Quidditch was never really practical." Harry chuckled. "Hermione just wanted to go to a Wizarding University at the time – she'd been leaning toward the one in Cairo, to continue with Runes and Arithmancy, but she played along with me anyway."

He twisted out of Severus's arms to face him and looked at him earnestly. "Couldn't you see me as a rock star? I'd be really, really good, right? I'd do lead vocals and guitar!" He mimed playing a guitar for a moment as he banged his head back and forth. But then he looked skeptically at Severus. "You can… be my backup drummer… If you're very, very good." He let out a snort of laughter as Severus bowled him back into the couch with a pounce and kissed him breathless.

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Harry shouldn't have been dreading his class of third-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. But he was. There was a Ravenclaw boy who looked just like Cedric. It had been years since the Triwizard Tournament, but Harry still felt the most awful twinge every time he looked at Liwensbury.

It had come up, of course, in his frequent chats with Dumbledore, especially after the few times at the beginning of the year when Harry had accidentally called on "Cedric". Dumbledore had been the epitome of understanding about all of it, but he hadn't helped much beyond imparting the advice that Harry should speak with someone. He even gave him the name of a Wizarding therapist. Harry hadn't bothered.

Now, back in one of the awesome lounge chairs in and cradling a lilac teacup, he steered the conversation toward a much more pressing topic.

"Albus, do you think we could try to broaden the curriculum a little bit?" Harry still thought it was really weird to be calling the headmaster by his first name, but all the other teachers did it and the headmaster had even requested it, so…

Albus's blue eyes sparkled as he popped another lemon drop. "How exactly do you mean?"

"Well, I know that Hogwarts has a chorus, but student involvement is rather dismal. I was thinking maybe a music professor, who could teach music theory, composition, maybe even a few instruments to interested students."

"Ah," Albus nodded appreciatively. "Would you, perchance, be interested in learning the calliope or pyrophone? The most interesting first-year came by just yesterday holding what appeared at first glance to be a cheese grater, but was actually the most amazing contraption for creating these marvelous musical farts." He peered at Harry through his half-moon glasses. "Or perhaps you'd be more interested in a more common instrument, like the arpeggione."

Harry shifted as he tried to hold in his laughter. "Actually, I was thinking about learning guitar."

"Yes, I see." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, I think we could arrange a something to that effect."

A dim bell rang from the door in the side of Dumbledore's office. The headmaster stood up quickly, "Oh, please excuse me, Harry. I was experimenting with the reaction between one of Humphrey Belcher's famed cheese cauldrons and a batch of Veritaserum. Would you care to try it out when it's finished? It would be a tremendous help if you would be so kind." Harry stood from his chair and headed out the door to the moving staircase. "And do tell Severus that I shall owl him, posthaste, with the results."

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The next few weeks saw Harry plodding tiredly through his classes as he grew ever-more frustrated with the entire situation and ever-more eager for the slowly approaching summer. However, he'd had a few guitar lessons with the new professor. Apparently the new classes she offered, about both magical music and muggle music, were a tremendous success, and many students in his classes were taking private lessons with her.

She was a very peculiar witch. She had a small, mousy face, and a huge mane of white hair that sank to her lower back when she let it loose, which was rare. Most often, she charmed her hair to stick up into weird directions. One week she'd spelled it to look like a different type of farm animal every day. Monday it looked like a rooster about to crow, and on Thursday it was a morbidly obese cow, with a huge humpback whale on Friday, which didn't really fit the theme. When asked about the cow, she'd explained that her mirror had been particularly finicky that morning and she'd been running late for a class, so she was unable to put it to rights. She never came to any meals, her wand had golden tassels dangling from the handle, and she always wore these violently purple robes, much to Dumbledore's enjoyment. She'd even asked both the students and teachers to call her "Thumpa-Thumpa", despite the appallingly obvious chagrin of the professors.

Severus despised the woman.

Unsurprisingly, Harry found her immensely entertaining and had a fantastic time at his guitar lessons every Tuesday evening. Yet when Harry had returned to his chambers after his first lesson, desperate to show Severus the exciting techniques he'd learned (the two chords he could play), Severus smirked at him.

"Well, it's certainly not like you could do any better. I'm going to be the rock star, remember?" Harry grinned at the older wizard as they burst into laughter together. When they stopped, Harry gazed at Severus quizzically. "Can you play?" he ventured, suspecting at the mysterious glint in the deep black eyes.

Severus's simper widened. "Not well, but I dabbled when I was younger," he reached for the guitar and Harry handed it to him. After a few tentative strums, Harry was laughing at Severus's feeble attempts. The potions master sounded worse than he did, and he'd only just learned! Severus raised one of his thin eyebrows at the doubled-over wizard.

Oops.

Harry had laughed far, far too soon. Severus's talented hands flew over the frets like his fingers were made of electricity. Harry's smile slid off his face and his eyes narrowed at his lover as he finished the glorious cadenza he plucked out of the air. Merlin, Severus was hot when he played! Harry sidled up to him and took the guitar away, putting it on the table before he plundered the man's mouth.

"You'd make a much better rock star than I would, Severus," Harry said against his lips when he pulled away.

Severus ran a hand through Harry's disheveled hair. "I most certainly would not."

"Would too."

"Harry, you would make a tremendous rock star, if you so desired."

"Would not. And even if I could, you'd be a better one."

"I am certain that you are unequivocally mistaken."

"Am not."

Severus rolled his eyes and condescended to Harry's childishness, his hand still trying to smooth Harry's hair. "Are too." He paused. "In fact, let's discuss this empirically." Severus relaxed into the couch. "Over the summer, you and I will endeavor to become Muggle rock stars. Whoever becomes a more successful rock star over the summer owes the other a trip to Florence." Severus smirked at the prospect taking Harry to his favorite city.

The younger wizard made a face. "Okay, but if I win, I want to go on an epic sailing adventure! We'll be pirates!"

Severus sneered. "No." Harry looked at him imploringly. "Fine. A cruise, then. On a yacht."