It was a cold early winter day as a sixth year Gryffindor student, Harry Potter, walked across the school grounds to the owlery. The previous night he had dreamt of something he was not proud of. So when he woke up that morning, feeling he had to tell someone, he wrote a letter to the, now only, person he considered family, Remus Lupin. Normally he would have told his best friends, Ron and Hermione, but the dream was so embarrassing he thought against it.
"Hedwig!" he called, entering the owlery, a room filled with the school owls and the many that students had brought to school with them. "Come here, pretty girl! Don't be so mean; you know I thought you were that hook—THERE YOU ARE!" Harry pointed at his snowy owl who immediately flew down and perched herself on his shoulder. Before tying his letter to her foot, he examined her 'hindquarters'. "Oh—er—sorry about that, 'Wiggy. I'm sure your hole will shrink down to normal size with time," he assured her and then tied the letter to her foot. She took off as soon as the letter was tied. Harry watched her until she flew out of sight and, with a sigh, continued back to the castle, heading straight to Dumbledore's office for his private lessons.
"Ah, Harry, I've been expecting you," Dumbledore said breathlessly when Harry entered, turning to face Harry on his tall wheelie-chair.
"Yes, I'm sure you were since it was you who told me to be here at this time," Harry replied, his eyebrows furrowed wondering how Dumbledore dumbed down. His eyes fell to Dumbledore's blackened right hand and wondered if that was the cause.
"Don't mock me!" Dumbledore hollered, throwing all the books off of his table with his right hand and then wincing in pain. "Severus…" he said under his breath and at once Severus Snape crawled out from underneath Dumbledore's robes.
"Dumbledore and I read your letter to that werewolf," Snape said coolly, holding up the letter Harry had just sent. Harry's eyes widened.
"But how did you—"
"It was simple, Potter," Snape said, drawing his robes from around him revealing a bloody dead Hedwig strapped to his manly chest. Harry gave out a cry of disgust and fear. If Snape could take down an owl that was preoccupied flying and not paying attention to anything else but it destination, surely he, Snape, could kill Harry. "It'll never work between us, no matter how many dreams you have about me and you sharing the same four-poster bed." Harry fell to his knees, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks. Dumbledore rushed over to his favorite student, placing an arm around him.
"Severus, I believe you were harsh," he said calmly, now with both his arms around Harry. "Look at me, little boy." Harry followed his Headmaster's orders and looked into his icy blue eyes. And before he knew it, his lips were pressed against Dumbledore's in a fiery kiss. Harry's arms prodded around Dumbledore's front, ripping open the purple robes he wore—Dumbledore did the same with Harry's Hogwarts robes.
Snape stood watching the Headmaster and the student he hated most (that was madly in love with him) enjoying themselves, entangled in each others arms, moaning and groaning on the floor. But Snape didn't like it. After many years of feeling strong love for Dumbledore and after many years of sharing a bed with Dumbledore he, as anyone would, felt cheated. The only logical reasoning was to get Potter away from the Headmaster. And the way to do that would be to embarrass him.
Snape broke into a run out of the Headmaster's office, glad to leave and in a hurry to find the two people Harry would be most ashamed to see him with the Headmaster, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. But he didn't have to go far. He simply walked past the deserted girls bathrooms and heard Moaning Myrtle crying about people doing something in there. Snape kicked the door open. He did find Hermione and Ron in there, but not brewing some kind of Potion like he'd expected them to (that's what they had done in there four years previously), but doing exactly the same thing Dumbledore and Harry were doing in the room he had just come from.
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, seeing Snape in the corner of her eye, pulling herself from Ron and picking up a robe to hide herself from Snape. Ron began kissing her stomach.
"What is it, Her—?" Ron copied Hermione's action once seeing a Snape in the corner of his eye that was red in the face.
"Irresponsible!" he hollered. "A million points from Gryffindor! Don't talk to me ever again!" With that he left the bathroom, knowing that Ron and Hermione would start up again.
The next person on his list of people Potter was influenced by was none other than Draco Malfoy, a boy in Snape's house, Slytherin. Snape headed down to the dungeons. A loud scream echoed the halls from the Potions room. Good, Snape thought heading toward it, Draco is hexing someone for practice.
But when he entered the room that was not what was happening. Pansy Parkinson laid spread eagle and naked on the floor with Draco Malfoy atop of her thrusting with all his might. Snape noticed his other Slytherin students Crabbe and Goyle watching, their hands shoved down their pants and drool slopping out of their mouths and down their fronts. No one noticed Snape entering, nor did they notice him exiting.
Snape stood outside his Potions classroom, punching the wall out of anger. Pansy Parkinson's screams echoed the hall and occasionally he'd hear Crabbe or Goyle utter, "Oh, Draco!"
"Stop that," a soft voice said beside Snape. He turned to find the pleasantly plump Madam Pomfrey, looking at him fondly. He stopped immediately. "Oh, Severus, your hands are bleeding."
"Really, Madam Pomfrey, I'm fine, just a little agitate—what are you doing?"
Madam Pomfrey began sucking on the tips of his fingers. "A-talent-passed-down-through-the-generations-of-my family," she said between sucks. But slowly her lips moved passed his hands and up Snape's arm. He felt slightly uncomfortable but was enjoying ever minute of it. Madam Pomfrey's lips reached his and she stopped.
"Oh, Severus," she groaned.
"Madam Pomfrey…" he trailed off, looking at her hands which were now undoing the buttons on her tight-fitted dress. Before he knew it, she was naked and so was he and they were on the floor, enjoying the heat of each others bodies pressed against each other and entangled in each others arms. Snape had forgotten about Potter and Dumbledore, he had forgotten about Ron and Hermione and he had forgotten about Malfoy and Pansy. All that was on his mind was the pleasantly plump woman on top of him, Madam Pomfrey. The only person that mattered. And Snape got what he wanted all along. Love.
