"Potter wait." Snape coiled around the bench before lunging for Harry's arm.

"I will tolerate you walking out my detention once but not twice." Snape stated, his teeth clenched slightly as he ran his eyes over the boy. He couldn't help but notice just how red the younger wizard's cheeks had become.

"I'm surprised you tolerated once." Harry said without thought as he felt Snape's fingers tighten around his wrist.

"I'm only tolerating it because," Snape began before stalling, realising he had said too much.

"Because?" Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion as he attempted to prompt an answer from the professor's lips.

Snape hesitated and Harry realised it was the first time he had ever witnessed such a reluctance from the man.

Should he persist for an answer?

Or should he die of curiosity without ever knowing?

No that simply wasn't an option.

"Because," Snape began as his grip around Harry's wrist began to falter.

"I believe you went through my things." The professor confessed, carefully studying each flicker of changing expression on the boy's face, as though each one would hold a clue for how much Snape would be able to tell him.

Harry gasped slightly, he should have expected this and yet he didn't think Snape would catch on so quick.

"What do you mean?" Harry attempted to distort his face into the most serious one he could muster.

Snape took a deep breath and eyed the boy carefully, as though trying to read his mind.

Yet it seemed as though the Professor was once again hesitating.

Snape narrowed his eyes, perhaps he was being paranoid after all, but that still didn't explain why his drawer was ajar.

"You went through my desk drawer." The professor stated slowly, continuing his examination of the boy's face for any sign that would give him away.

Harry gasped at the man's words, yet the pulsing in his groin didn't seem at all close to subsiding.

How did he know?

He should have been more careful. He should have left everything exactly as he had found it instead of running off in a state of frenzied panic.

Of course Snape would notice.

Harry gritted his teeth as he contemplated whether it was worth keeping up this charade or being honest. After all, Snape owed him more than a few answers if he had been writing about him in such a way.

"That notebook, why did you write a story about me and you?" Harry spat suddenly, throwing caution to the wind.

Snape eyed the boy carefully, as though imagining a series of events and how they would play out depending on his answer.

"I didn't write that story."

"Really? Then why is it in your drawer?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he made no effort to disguise the doubt in his voice.

"Tell me Potter, do you really want other people to read that story? Your classmates, Mr Malfoy perhaps?"

Harry stalled as confusion filled his eyes. It appeared he hadn't considered this.

"Because that book very nearly did fall into his hands."

"But if it's not yours, then who's is it?"

Snape clenched his teeth as though he were suddenly in pain. Should he be the one to tell Harry that his best friend was writing such stories about him?

"One of the students. I happened across it." Snape sighed as he watched Harry intently, as though trying to figure out if he would believe him.

Harry went to move away, only then realising that Snape's fingers were still wrapped around his wrist.

"I-I have to go." Harry stuttered as it seemed a new wave of pressure began to surge towards his groin.

"Go where? You have to finish your detention with me, remember." Snape raised his eyebrow, though a glint in his eye suggested that he was alluding to something more.

Or was that perhaps simply his imagination? He wasn't exactly in the straightest frame of mind.

"I have a problem I need to take care of." Harry mumbled, though it seemed he had released the words from his lips without properly considering them first.

"I can see that." Snape stated, an amused smirk curling at the corners of his thin lips.

"W-what?"

"I wasn't born yesterday Potter." Snape sneered as he yanked the boy closer to him in one fluid motion.

"W-what are you doing?" Harry suddenly seemed alarmed as he now stood mere inches from the terrifying teacher. He suddenly felt as though he were back in the potion's cupboard.

"Mr Potter," Snape began, running his eyes up and down the boy once more, as though contemplating his words very carefully.

"I believe you are experiencing the same emotions as I am."

Harry suddenly glanced up at him, apparent horror was etched on his face.

"What do you mean?" Harry whimpered nervously.

"I think you know perfectly well what I mean Potter."

Harry's eyes darted for the door, as though debating whether it was possible to flee the classroom, run away and never return.

But is that really what he wanted?

His eyes darted back to Snape's deep, dark ones. It felt as though he were suddenly gazing into another world. He was mesmerised, yet why? It's not as though he hadn't witnessed those eyes a thousand times before.

What was wrong with him?

"It's not your fault, you are not going mad." Snape drawled, yet his face seemed softer, as though he were empathising with him somehow.

"Then what wrong with me?" Harry screwed up his face as though it were him that was now in pain, yet he seemed no longer able to mask the desperation in his voice.

"Its that same notebook. It is cursed."

"What do you mean?"

"If a romantic story is written in it about two people who exist in real life, they will also fall in love in real life." Snape stated, his eyes never once leaving Harry's.

"But then," the younger wizard suddenly stalled, his eyes seemingly piecing together this rather confusing puzzle.

"Yes Potter. We are falling in love with each other."