Title: The Love Potion

Author: Sprinkles

Rating: PG-13 just to be sure…

Archive: Sure, just ask me first.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Snape or anyone else from the Potter-verse. They either own themselves or belong to JKR

Summary: Harry comes to Snape and confesses to being in love with him. Snape in turn believes that Harry is under the influence of a love potion and attempts to identify and cure it.

"Scrub all my cauldrons for two months," – The shove sent Harry hurtling out the door. – "Then you can have your dinner!"

SLAM!

Harry, completely missing the blatant and withering sarcasm in Snape's tone, was far too happy to be deterred at a mere door slamming in his face.

"Um," he called. "Is that starting tomorrow or starting on Monday?"

When no reply was forthcoming (Snape had probably gone to get his cauldrons good and filthy for Harry to scrub), Harry ran up to his dormitory and shucked his dress robe before walking down to the Three Broomsticks.

Nothing in the world could ruin this wonderful mood I'm in.

Honestly, Harry was surprised that Snape had even spoken to him. He'd expected a good thorough Snape-style insulting session and maybe a deadly hex or two thrown at him, but he'd never expected to be actually talked to – let alone for Snape to agree to go on a date with him.

I mean – true, he's only agreeing to get you to scrub his cauldrons –

Harry determinedly tamped down the immature part of his brain that sniggered at the innuendo.

But a date is a date.

Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks and spied Ron and Hermione's table. According to Hermione, they had been there for three-quarters of an hour waiting for Harry to tell them about Snape's response.

Harry had explained his crush on Professor Snape to Ron and Hermione back when they were in sixth year. Typical Hermione, with a satisfied look on her face as if she had honestly seen it coming, went out and got him all kinds of books on homosexual sex and protection from various diseases ('Well, at least it's not about birth control.' Said Ron.) Ron, on the other hand, after a short period of shock and confusion, which involved asking Harry six times a day if he was really sure he was gay, got over it and asked Hermione to find out if there were any diseases that you could get from touching greasy hair.

Harry had long since decided to confess his feelings to Snape after graduation and now both Ron and Hermione were looking at Harry avidly, demanding to know the results of said confession.

"He said 'yes.'" Harry announced proudly. Ron sat dumbfounded while Hermione looked as if she were about to fall out of her chair…then they both started shouting over each other.

"Really!"

"And the git didn't try to kill you…"

"He actually said 'Yes?'"

"…or maim you at all?"

"I can't believe it!" They both finished at the same time

Harry motioned for them to quiet down when he noticed the rest of the patrons in the Three Broomsticks beginning to stare.

"He didn't raise his wand at me at all." Harry said quietly. "He invited me inside his office." At their stunned looks Harry decided to begin again. "Look, this is what happened." And Harry told the entire story to them starting with him knocking on Snape's door that evening.

"…And then he goes, 'Scrub all my cauldrons for two months. Then you can have your dinner!'" Harry concluded triumphantly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.

"What," demanded Harry.

"Harry," began Hermione kindly, her mouth twitching. "Are you quite sure that Snape wasn't being at all sarcastic when he said those things to you?"

"Well…"

"Harry, he called you a presumptuous brat…"

"Yeah," said Harry dreamily.

Ron and Hermione exchanged another look. What could they do? Harry had it bad for the greasy git.

Finally Ron sighed. "Alright, Harry, we'll leave it up to you. Just be careful, okay?"

"Thanks, guys, for your support and all."

"Don't mention it."

They talked about Ron's plans for the future (he was going to work for the Ministry) and Hermione's plans (she wanted to be a healer). Fred and George's joke shop was going well and Charlie and Percy, recuperating from injuries, were helping Mrs. Weasley out around the house. Mr. Weasley and Bill had both been killed in the War.

They talked about Sirius and McGonagall and Hagrid and all the others who had died in that final battle and were just speculating as to how in Merlin's red, flaming hell Cornelius Fudge had managed to remain Minister of Magic when suddenly Ron said,

"Harry, it's almost eleven o'clock. You have to go back to the castle."

After the War, even though Voldemort was gone (for-good-we-really-mean-it-this-time), several of his Death-Eaters were still at large and Hell-bent on killing off Harry. Thus Dumbledore, realizing that Harry was rather reluctant to go back into his muggle relatives' care ("I'd rather turn myself over to the Death Eaters!"), decided that Harry should live at Hogwarts for the summer and not leave castle or the surrounding village.

Harry also had a curfew where he had to be inside the Hogwarts castle at eleven o'clock.

Harry, Ron and Hermione got up from their table, tossed down some coins and headed toward the door. They were almost at the Hogwarts gates when Ron asked:

"Just for curiosity's sake, what attracted you to Snape in the first place?"

Harry paused considering the question. There were so many things that made Snape attractive. The glare, the billowing robes, the insults. Oh God, those insults. 'Impetuous brat!' Harry shivered.

"I think the first thing was his hands."

"His hands?"

"Yeah." Harry stopped in front of the gates. "They looked so strong and deft."

Ron somehow managed to roll his eyes and cringe at the same time as he walked away with Hermione.

"Well," he called over his shoulder, "At least you weren't checking out his arse or something."

"Oh, of course I was checking out his arse – it was just his hands that I saw first."

Entering the castle Harry went up to his dormitory, but not before asking the house-elves if he could borrow a bucket and scrub-brush for cauldrons; he wanted to be totally prepared for his day of scrubbing bright and early in the morning.

He flopped down on his bed with a smile.

What would Sirius say if he knew that I liked the greasy git?

And he almost laughed out loud imagining the utterly revolted look on Sirius's face. In a way, it was too bad that Sirius wasn't a ghost (his heart clenched painfully as it always did when he thought of Sirius) – he would have enjoyed teasing him about this.

Harry got under the covers and closed his eyes. Ron and Hermione's words played over in his mind.

'At least you weren't checking out his arse or something.'

Yeah, it is a shame that he keeps it under those robes…

'Are you quite sure that Snape wasn't being sarcastic…'

'Harry he called you a presumptuous brat.'

'Presumptuous brat!' thought Harry drowsily as he rolled over and drifted off to sleep. I could get used to that.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed Harry's POV. Coming in the next chapter, S and H interaction (finally, right?). As always, please feed the author. XOXO - Sprinkles