Chapter 25: Those Three Words

The day dragged by. The highlight of Harry's school hours was when he was in potions. Granted, Snape had snapped at him three times, taken 20 points total from Gryffindor, and given Ron detention, but that was a typical class anyway. He had to remind himself numerous times to not smile at his professor with the sleek, black, midnight hair. Harry paid more attention to his potion, trying to get it right to impress Snape, but failed tragically when he got distracted by the man's scent and added an entire jar of newt eyes to his cauldron. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"Who? Me?" Snape had replied so only he could hear. Harry jumped and nearly threw the vial he was holding. His mind raced and he had to fight the smile that threatened to break across his face.

"Yes," he whispered back as soon as he thought he could control his volume. Harry prayed no one noticed their short exchange as he returned to his butchered potion. The end of the period came and all Harry had to show was a cauldron of failure. He sauntered out of the room, disappointed in himself for not showing his professor his best, and continued to the rest of his classes. As hard as he tried, he couldn't concentrate in any of his other classes. His notes morphed into doodles of him and Snape laying in meadows, or dancing in ballrooms. He was careful to not draw either of them in too much detail—afraid of being recognized.

Finally, dinner rolled around and he was able to steal a glance up at the professors' table, just in time to see Snape staring back at him, for a split second. A letter landed on his plate just before he filled it with salad. He knew who it was from by the handwriting. Harry opened it quickly and read.

Potter,

Do not skip your detention.

S

He fought another smile as he tucked the letter into his pocket. "Who was that from," Hermione inquired as Harry took a helping of greens for himself.

"Just Snape telling me when my detention is."

"I know you like him and all, but shouldn't you be a little pissed that he gave you detention?" Ron asked, somewhat loudly.

"Shut up, Ron," Harry nearly yelled, clapping the ginger on the back—hard.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He couldn't warm up to the idea of his best mate liking his least favourite professor.

"It's fine, just don't yell it. And I'm excited because it means time with him," Harry whispered. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully.

"What?"

"You never struck me as gay," she said softly.

"Oh," he replied lamely, not knowing what to say. What the hell am I supposed to say "You look really straight to me"? No, he thought bitterly.

"Sorry, that was weird."

"It's okay, it was just a little off," he said as he checked the time. Neither Ron nor Hermione really spoke to Harry for the remainder of dinner. He didn't mind, his thoughts were elsewhere, mainly entertaining ideas of what he and Snape would do during his detention. Harry picked up his bag and left to go meet Snape.

When he got to the potions room, he found a note on the door instructing him to go to Snape's office. He shrugged and walked down the hallway leading there. Harry knocked on the large wooden door. "Enter." He practically melted when Severus spoke with his silk voice.

"I'm here for my detention, professor."

"I see," Snape replied as he set down a stack of parchment.

"What am I to do?" He asked cautiously. Severus came over to him and cupped his cheek. Harry stared up into the onyx eyes, desire filling his own. He leaned into the man in front of him, very away of how the man's bones pressed up against his own. Harry gasped as Snape pulled him closer, grasping his ass. Harry's lips met his in a greedy, sloppy kiss, but neither cared about the sloppiness; their actions were fueled entirely with need and want. The love-y stuff can come later, Harry thought as his erection pressed against his black jeans. He moaned with pleasure as Severus stroked him through the denim.

"You're too easy," he whispered in the Gryffindor's ear. Harry was enjoying himself too much to respond. Severus licked his teeth, feeling their sharp edges against the softness of his tongue. He parted his mouth from Harry's and bit Potter's collarbone. Harry purred with pleasure as his potions master's teeth made their way to his ribs. He fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, hands shaking with anticipation and pleasure. Severus helped him before tending to his own pants. He slid his fingers into Harry's boxers, making him shiver. His lips met Severus's once more as the potions master removed Harry's boxers first, followed by his own pair. Their erections grinded together as Harry thrust his hips toward his partner. Severus increased speed until, finally, they both climaxed. Their screams of pleasure rang through the sound-proofed office and echoed around them as the two sank to the floor, breathing heavily. Snape waved his wand and the evidence of what they did vanished.

"That was brilliant," Harry breathed and Severus smiled.

"Glad you enjoyed it, but we need to stop doing this during detention," he said smoothly.

"Do you mean like go on a proper date?" He inquired, astonished.

"I admit, I did things in the wrong order," Snape said softly. "But if you're interested, we could go on a 'proper date' as you called it. Would you like that?"

Harry was ecstatic, "I'd love to!" He nearly screamed.

"Alright, allow me to make the arrangements. And, Harry, you need to understand this is risky. It can't get out that we're—"

"I know, I know," he replied sadly.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this. You deserve better."

"No, you're the best for me, Severus," he said softly, taking the man's hand in his. Snape leaned back, in to the wall behind him. He didn't think about the trouble he could get in for this, the problems that were going to arise later, Voldemort, or even the freezing floor beneath him. The only thing on his mind was the love he felt for the Gryffindor beside him. Severus pulled Harry to him, he felt the unruly hair fall across his bare chest and sighed.

After two hours of leaning there with Harry, Snape gently pushed him up. "Come on, get dressed," he said as he pulled on his pants. "Curfew is in half an hour and I'll not have you be late." Harry stood and followed Snape's example. Within fifteen minutes, the two were ready to leave. Harry walked over to Severus and carefully pulled him into a hug.

"I really do care about you, Sev," he whispered.

"Why would you say that now?" He inquired.

"Well, because I don't want you to think I'm just in this for the sex. I'm not. I really do think I love you," he said after a few minutes of silence.

Severus turned to look Harry in the eyes. "I love you too, Harry," he breathed. There was a voice in the back of his mind nagging him; it said that Harry didn't know what he was saying because he doesn't know what love is, but Severus ignored it. Nothing would destroy this night for them.