The Detention Club
Summary: It seems that all of Harry's friends have crushes on teachers, and Harry finds himself thinking of Professor Snape…And things only get more complicated after that.
A/N: HBP never happened and Snape still teaches Potions.
Chapter Nine:
"Did you mean it?"
Hermione passed the note to Harry in Potions the next day. It was a continuance of the conversation they'd been having in the common room before classes started. Harry and Hermione were partners in the back of class, Hermione able to multi task by talking to Harry and adding ingredients, only making Harry hand her what was needed.
"I dunno," Harry wrote back after a pause in which he used to think for a moment. "I don't know what I feel anymore. I don't hate him, but he does annoy the hell out of me sometimes…it's just…It slipped out. It could have been an in the moment thing. But…what if I did mean it? This is hard."
Harry shook his head and handed the note to Hermione who glanced over it. Harry was surprised to look up to see Ron turned to him, glaring angrily, hate clear in his blue eyes. Harry was startled by this look on his best friend. Neville also looked confused, looking from Ron to Harry, not daring to touch the cauldron. He did, however, get back to work as Snape passed by.
"Why are you not working, Weasley?" Snape demanded.
"You git!" Ron spat.
This captured the attention of the whole class, assuming he was talking to Snape. But he wasn't. He was talking to Harry.
"Ron!" gasped Hermione, shocked, handing Harry her response. He didn't bother reading it, but held it in his fist, wondering what on earth Ron was talking about.
"You're dating!" Ron accused, standing up. Everyone turned to Harry, whispering excitedly. Snape also looked curious. "You knew I lo-liked her, Harry! But you wanted her for yourself! That's why you told me you were gay! So I wouldn't suspect you!"
Harry's face grew warm as the excited chatter grew louder. Harry gulped and Hermione looked horrified.
"I'm not dating Hermione, Ron," Harry said, trying to keep a calm voice.
"Sure!" Ron spat sarcastically. "You're sooo close now. It's only the two of you. Neither of you ever talk to anyone else now days! You're dating!"
Harry could swear he heard Blaise Zabini say something about the Daily Prophet and moaned.
"Harry and I are not dating, Ronald!" declared Hermione angrily, standing up so fast half of the class jumped in shock. "Harry is gay you nimwit, and I'm a lesbian! I am a full-blown lesbian! I am attracted to women and Harry is attracted to men, so OBVIOUSLY we're not a couple!"
Harry looked up at her. Her face was red, her dark eyes full of loathing as she glowered at Ron. He wasn't sure, yet, if he appreciated her confirming he was gay, but it did make him feel better that Ron looked stunned and uncomfortable. He smiled at her reassuringly as she sat down, suddenly looking horrified.
Snape, however, looked serious.
"Quiet!" he said clearly and quietly, yet everyone heard him. "Potter, Granger, Weasley, detention for interrupting my class. You will serve detention at seven tonight. Potter with me, Granger with Professor Vector, and Weasley with Mr. Filch."
Unable to control themselves, Harry and Hermione covered their mouths as laughter threatened to force its way out. Knowing what they could expect in detention, the idea of Ron in detention with Filch was highly amusing.
"Now, get back to work! Potter, don't let Granger do all the work or you will both receive disappointing grades!"
Snape swept to the front of the class and Harry dropped a few pinches of rosemary into the cauldron, knowing it was true that he had helped on some level. Then he took the note in his fist and read it.
"You'll figure it out," Hermione's words reassuring. "You do know each other better than you did. Who knows? No matter what, I am always supportive of you. Even if you want hook-nosed babies."
Harry laughed and shook his head. He wrote back: "Snape won't want kids and I wouldn't be able to brew the fertility potion, anyway. But…I hope you're right. I hope I do figure it out."
"I do hope you're not passing notes, Potter!" Snape said. "Be warned: I will read them aloud, no matter how private."
Harry sniggered, considering putting something down on the parchment about Snape and blow jobs, but decided against it when Snape glared at him. Instead, Harry hid the note in his robes and began chopping up whatever it was Hermione had handed him.
Whispers and points followed Harry and Hermione throughout the day, but Harry was used to it and ignored it, while Hermione apologized profusely.
"It's okay," Harry insisted. "Really. I'm used to people talking about me. Besides, at least now Ron knows the truth--along with the rest of the world."
She groaned, but finally stopped apologizing.
Of course, that was not the most exciting part of the day. It was the detention in the Potions classroom that evening that was the most exciting…even if it didn't include sex. This, of course, would have made Harry laugh and tell you you were crazy. But no one warned Harry of what would happen that evening.
Harry made it to the Potions classroom right on time. Snape said nothing to greet him, only locked the door and led the way to his private quarters, making Harry wondering if he'd be seeing a lot more of them lately.
This time, Harry got a good look at the living room. The high ceiling, the bright fire in the dark fireplace with Snape's Death Eater uniform hanging on a hook next to it. The furniture was all dark, but the walls and floor were all light colors. There were books everywhere, and Harry was certain Hermione would love it here, but not as much as he was going to. Unsure of what to do, Harry hesitantly sat down on the couch while Snape messed around in another room for a minute, reemerging with a bottle and two glasses.
Firewhiskey.
"It was a rough day for us both, and so we'll need a bit of relaxing before we carry on," Snape explained as he poured the amber liquid into both glasses. "Heres to hoping the Daily Prophet never figuring out why you have so many detentions. They don't understand how incompetent you are and are likely to get suspicious."
Harry glared at him at the insult, but said nothing as he downed the liquid, letting it burn its way down his throat. He winced and helped himself to another glass.
"I must say," Snape said, his dark eyes studying Harry, "I am looking forward to receiving the Prophet tomorrow. Though everyone from Hogwarts to Africa should know by now. I would like to see what spin they put on it. Will this new knowledge lessen their admiration of you?"
Harry's glare deepened, taking another swig of fire whiskey.
"I'd love to see what they say if I told them about our secret love affair," he snapped back. "The Death Eater Who Raped Our Savior. People are more accepting of homosexuals than they are of perverts, child molesters, pedophiles, rapists…"
Snape returned Harry's glare and took another sip of his alcohol. Harry set his down, suddenly feeling very nauseous very…in very much pain. He winced as fire burned from his throat to his stomach to his brain, even. It got worse. He noticed Snape giving him an odd look before his vision became blurry, the room swaying from side to side. Harry wasn't sure if he was going to throw up or die of pain.
He shook his head, standing up and immediately crashed down to the floor, and might have felt the pain in his knees from landing so hard if everything else hadn't hurt so much. He jerked away as he felt Snape's hand on his shoulder. He tried standing and failed and rolled onto his back, glaring up at Snape, croaking out:
"You poisoned me!"
TBC
