Title: Birthday Wishes
Author: nahimana
Rating: PG
Summary: Snape is not having a happy birthday...not yet, at least.
Author's Note: Well, I'm four days late. In my defense, I actually wrote this on the day, but as per usual I didn't post it until a couple days later. Anyway...
"Happy Birthday, Severus!"
Snape cringed as a vision of bright blue and red robes assaulted his eyes and looked up into the face of Albus Dumbledore.
"It most certainly is not." Snape scowled, and left without another word. Albus sighed, and looked over at Minerva, who was lounging on one of the staff room chairs, a day-old copy of The Daily Prophet in her hand.
"Perhaps Severus hasn't had enough coffee yet."
Minerva, who had seen Severus down no less than 4 cups that morning at breakfast, snorted doubtfully.
-
"Happy birthday, son." His mother's portrait said, looking at him fondly. Snape glared at her from his position, hunched over on a dark wood chair, greasy hair forming curtains around his face.
"Not at all." Snape said irritably, and stalked off through the door that joined his quarters and his office.
-
"Happy birthday, Professor Snape." a timid voice said from the other side of his desk. Snape looked up to see Dennis Creevy, now a seventh year, holding his completed homework essay in his shaking hands and smiling hopefully.
"Oh, for the love of- how did you find out, Mr Creevy?"
Creevy bit his lip and mumbled something about a magazine Severus knew to be a gossip rag. He threw his quill down, snatched Creevy's essay out of his now violently trembling hands, and glared until the boy scurried off.
To himself, he mumbled, "not yet, anyway."
-
"I would try saying "happy birthday", but from what I heard at dinner that might result in a decapitation."
Snape looked up from his untidy desk to see Harry Potter leaning against his door post, a wide grin plastered across his infuriatingly handsome face and a travel bag at his side.
"What were you doing at dinner?" he asked.
"Looking for you," Potter shrugged, entering the room without invitation, dragging his bag behind him. "Why weren't you there, anyway? Dumbledore said something about cake, and I..."
Harry trailed off, and a knowing look crossed his face. Snape didn't like it one bit.
"Oohhh...I get it now," Potter grinned. Snape glared. "You're worried about getting old, aren't you!"
"I refuse to dignify that with a response." Snape said haughtily, turning back to his reading.
"Oh, Severus, forty isn't that old!" Potter told him eagerly, dropping the bag as if it had burned him (Snape was privately wishing it had) and making his way to Snape's desk, perching on the edge. Snape looked up at him grudgingly.
"Especially," Potter continued with a suggestive wink, "when you have a young, famous lover who's absolutely dying to give you your birthday shag." With that, Potter slid gracefully from the edge of the desk and onto Snape's lap.
Snape decided worrying about his age could wait until 50.
