Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter If I did...Well..let's just say that Harry wouldn't end up with Ginny.

A/N: Meep. I know. I should be writing other story chapters. Instead, you get this shite. Poor yous. ;o; BUT. SCHOOL IS EVIL. EEEEVIL! I demand its head on a plate. Too..much..work. AND I'VE STILL GOT LIKE 11 YEARS LEFT/dies/

Meh. Other stories are haaaard. /whines/ I am lost. Meh. oo; And to explain this story...I've got nuthin'. It's...creepy, to say teh least. Weird. I don't know where it came from. So...forgive me if you think it's crap.

OMFGZ!11one MAPLESTORY IS DA BOMB/plays it a lot/ I'm on level 17! Fear my pwning mage powers. Yeah. Any of you play it? I'm in Broa. Mah name? It ees Nixtr. GAMEGAMEGAME. /goes to play it instead of writing her research paper/

Oh, one more thing before I let you read teh story. Does anyone know of any good vampire! Snape fics? Preferably with Snape/Harry in ze mix. Oh yeaaah. Vampires are teh smex. ;

XxX

Harry turned to his friends in disgust. "Dumbledore wants to talk to me again." Hermione frowned at him.

"Now Harry, I'm sure it's not bad. He probably just wants to congratulate you on the Quiddich victory!"

Ron snorted in derision. "Come off it, Hermione! The old man's been calling him up there nonstop for the past two months!" He turned to Harry with a conspiring manner, "Probably just working up the nerve to snog you."

Harry turned a violent shade of green and dry-heaved. "Are you insane! The man's got to be 200 years old!"

"Well," began Hermione, after getting over her initial shock. "Perhaps he wants a trophy boyfriend?"

"What!" spluttered Harry. "Have you two been brewing a potion? 'Cause I think the fumes have gone to your head!"

Hermione frowned again. "Harry, stop avoiding the subject. Has Professor Dumbledore made any sort of…passes at you?" Harry gaped.

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to go see what he wants."

XxX

As Harry was on his way to Dumbledore's chambers, he ran—literally—into Snape. As the two clashed together, Harry made a vague try at keeping his balance, while Snape stood and took it. Of the two, the black-clad figure was the only one who kept his feet. Of course, thought Harry viciously, Snape would be steady as a rock. Nothing shakes that man.

From his vantage point on the ground, Harry had a clear view of the potion-masters sneer. "Always firm. Feet planted on the ground as usual. I see those extra Defense classes you took were worth my time."

Harry scowled and struggled to his feet. "Well, professor, maybe if I'd had a competent teacher—"

Snape—who had been in the middle of turning around and stalking away—stopped mid-turn and bent down so the two were nose to nose. "Don't presume to question my methods of teaching, Mr. Potter. I-" here he drew himself up to his full height and glared at the boy-"Am the most competent wizard in the Defense Against Dark Arts branch of magic."

Harry snorted a bit and muttered a "Defense indeed."

Snape glared. Harry withered. "As stimulating a conversation as this has been, I'm late for an appointment with the headmaster," Snape declared.

Harry winced. Crap. This meant the meeting with Dumbledore had to do with Snape.

When Snape stalked off, Harry reluctantly trailed after. A moment or so into their walking, Snape twirled around and stared at Harry. "Is there any particular reason that you appear to be stalking me?"

"Well-uh-you see-" Harry stuttered.

"Spit it out, boy!"

"I also have an…appointment." Harry hung his head.

"What!"

"Er..yeah."

Snape steamed for a minute before turning his eyes upon the boy and saying—quite tartly, "Fine. Let us be off."

XxX

When they reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office, Snape just muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Edible underwear," and stomped off the stairs. Harry flinched. What an odd old man.

The black leather armchair was already taken by Snape—big surprise—so Harry was left with the bright pink, fluffy, beanbag chair. He grimaced as he sank into it. Snape hid a smirk behind his hair.

"Ah boys, how lovely for you to arrive at the same time. Tea? Lemon drop?"

Snape sneered and accepted the cup of tea held out to him. Harry reluctantly accepted a lemon drop.

As soon as Snape took a sip of the tea, he knew something was wrong. A warm, golden feeling spread through him. Snape fought back a smile and slapped a customary sneer onto his face. It was pretty weak.

Harry stared. Was everyone on some sort of drug? Snape had..smiled. It had been one of the creepiest things he'd ever seen in his entire life.

Snape turned to him and gestured violently. Harry continued to stare and popped the lemon drop into his mouth. Snape dropped his head into his hands. "Dammit Potter."

Harry jumped violently. Snape had sounded almost pleasant.

"The old fool's done something to this shit. I feel happy."

"Uh…I feel fine."

"Well. Perhaps I should just bloody kill you." Snape smiled.

"Okay." Harry agreed.

"What? Hm. Perhaps he's added something to the lemon drops after all." Harry frowned.

"Hey. Where is he?" Both men looked around. The headmaster was nowhere in sight.

"Damned old fool."

Harry agreed vehemently. "What should we do now?"

Snape paled, then blushed. "Whatever was slipped in my tea does not have just cheering properties."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"It uh…Seems to be a bit of an aphrodisiac, too."

"Oh." said Harry. "So, what should we do?"

"Shall we shag?" Snape suggested.

"Alright." Harry said, quite agreeably.

Snape stood up. "Off we go then."

The two headed out of the headmasters office and to Snape's chambers. From the shadows an old man stepped out, hefting something that looked remarkably like a Muggle video recorder. Giggling like a school-girl, the man followed the pair. This video would be able to fetch a fortune on the black market.

XxX

A/N: Meep. Pervy old Dumbles! ; Teehee. Creepy as all get out, neh? And I'm not writing a pr0ny sequel to this, sorry. TT You crazy foo's.