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.

Snape was awakened the next morning by a very loud and persistent knocking on his door.

He had been up until all hours of the night researching every type of love potion there was. In fact, a true researcher at heart, he had completely forgotten why he was researching them in the first place. It turned out there were forty-eight different kinds of love potion ranging from very weak (The Barely-infatuated Beverage) to very strong (Practically-suicidal Passion Juice). The good news was that it only took a day or so to test for any one particular love potion, since most of the potions had one, major, identifying ingredient.

The bad news was that testing for love potions was the last thing from Snape's mind at this point in time, having gone to bed only four hours ago and currently having no desire to get out of bed before noon. Which was why, when he was roused by someone knocking, his first thought was:

Maybe if I lie as still as possible they will go away…

KNOCK – KNOCK – KNOCK

Holy Christ Almighty!

Furious at the idiot who dared to awaken him at the crack of dawn, Snape got out of bed, quickly put on a dressing gown and went to answer the door. Fixing another 'imposing (albeit sleepy) glare' upon his face, he flung open the door…and stared in amazement at his intruder.

Somebody has to teach this boy something about timing.

Harry Potter (Of course, thought Snape) was standing in his doorway, holding a bucket and scrub-brush, and gazing in a very love-sick sort of way at the tiny bit of Snape's chest not covered by his dressing gown.

…the Hell? Having no recollection of yesterday's conversation, Snape was far too tired and annoyed to puzzle out why Potter was outside his office.

"Potter! What in the name of Merlin's blue bits are you doing at my office at SEVEN IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!"

Harry, still a bit love-sick, was not fazed in the slightest. "I'm here to scrub your cauldrons, Professor Snape."

Wait…what? Innuendo aside, Snape was honestly confused. Had he, perhaps, given Potter a detention yesterday? No, he couldn't've. Potter graduated yesterday, after all.

"What nonsense are you babbling about, Potter?"

"Yesterday, sir," Potter explained patiently. "You said that you would go on a date with me if I scrubbed your cauldrons for two months."

I said what? Oh…Now, Snape remembered. He replayed in his head exactly what he said that day. Oh good God. "Have you ever heard of sarcasm, Potter? Just when I thought you couldn't get any thicker, you go and surprise me…I was not being serious, you twit." He paused as Harry's face fell slightly.

"Does this mean that you're taking back your offer, Professor?"

"Of cour – " Snape had been about to say: Of course I am, you fool. Now get out of my office before you become an ingredient in my next potion!, but he halted midsentence when a thought occurred to him:

But what easier way would there be to test him for love potions…and what a thrill to throw his own carelessness at letting himself be drugged back at him…to show him his own stupidity …all that you'd need would be some blood to test him…

Snape considered this idea for a moment. It was a golden opportunity to demonstrate the boy's own idiocy to him.

"On second thought, Potter," Harry looked up hopefully, "…come here…I believe I do have something for you to do."

He whirled around, strode back into his office, and, with his wand, levitated all the cauldrons that needed cleaning (he was always too busy to do it himself) into a corner of his office near a sink. After a quick glance across the room to make sure Harry wasn't watching (Harry was actually looking at a bookcase, of all things), he carefully looked into each of the cauldrons to make sure that there was nothing dangerous or harmful into which Harry would soon be putting his hands.

Resolutely ignoring the voice that asked him why the hell he cared, he turned to Harry.

Harry stood studying one of Snape's bookshelves. Wow! Who knew the man read so much? With three, large, tightly-packed bookshelves against the walls (and one book on Love Potions on the coffee table) there must have been a hundred and fifty books in his office alone. He perused the titles: Potions and Poisons and Draughts, Oh My!, Advanced Theory of the Use of Boomslang Skin, Deadly Nightshade and Other Poisons, the list went on and on.

"Alright, Potter." Harry turned away from the bookshelf as Snape spoke. "You can scrub those cauldrons over there." Snape indicated the cauldrons he had assembled in the corner and Harry headed towards them. "But first I need something from you."

Harry looked back at him with a strange mixture of curiosity and hopefulness. I wonder what he needs – I've never been that good at potions…Harry began to smile as his imagination ran away with him. What if it's a kiss? His romantic voice wondered. Or a hug?

Don't be silly, Harry! Snapped Harry's sensible voice, which strangely enough sounded like Hermione. It's Professor Snape! He'd never overstep the bounds of propriety especially with someone half his age!

Fine, fine. Harry surrendered, (surprised that he actually knew the word 'propriety' even if it was spoken in his 'Hermione' voice). I'll just have to settle for a quick grope.

Snape's voice interrupted his thoughts and Harry snapped out of his reverie just in time to realize that he had no idea what it was that Snape had just said he needed.

Snape was continuing, "…so you can take off your robes and hang them over there."

WHAT! This has got to be a new record for me! To Hell with a quick grope, it looks like I'm finally going to get –

"Potter!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Professor, I was just thinking about something – "

"For the first time I'm sure."

" – What did you say?"

Snape gave him the half-annoyed, half-exasperated look that one gives to a particularly slow child. "I said, Potter, that I need your blood for a potion and since I'm sure you don't want to get blood on your robes, you can take them off and hang them over there."

"Oh." Damn. Harry took off his robes and hung them on the indicated coat rack. He had just turned around and was walking back to Snape when he remembered the last time someone had needed his blood for a potion.

"Wait. Why do you need my blood?" Asked Harry.

"I do not specifically need your blood." replied Snape, taking Harry by the wrist and rubbing disinfectant on the crook of his elbow. "I simply need the blood of someone untouched by an intentional curse."

"But my scar – "

"Your scar was neither intentional on the part of the Dark Lord, nor on the part of you. Therefore, for this particular potion, you are considered untouched."

"And your blood?"

Snape looked at him for a long moment. "At the time, the Dark Mark was intentional by everybody involved."

Oh. Harry shifted uncomfortably. This was not the way that he had wanted the conversation to go at all. But very quickly, Snape made a small incision in his arm, filled a small vial with his blood and healed him with a wave of his wand.

Oh well, I just about killed my chance with Snape…

Harry, lost in his own thoughts, did not realize that Snape was done until he looked up and noticed that Snape was looking at him with the faintest smile on his face. He was still holding Harry's hand.

Snape took a step toward him, took hold of his other hand and tugged him closer.

"Potter…"

Harry looked up at him sharply, wondering what was going on. His imagination went wild again. Oh my God, I don't believe it! Is he going to kiss me? I think he's going to kiss me! He's actually going to kiss me! Harry took a step closer, turned his face up, and closed his eyes in anticipation.

"Professor…"

Snape slid his hands up so they were holding on to Harry's upper arms. Together they stood there, barely six inches apart, Harry, eyes closed, waiting for his kiss and Snape looking down at him.

Nothing happened.

Confused, Harry opened his eyes. Snape was still looking down at him – but with a look that Harry had never seen before on the man. The faint smile was slightly more apparent, one eyebrow was raised in amusement and his black eyes glittered with silent laughter. He bent his head closer to Harry's still up-turned face.

The world (and Harry) held its breath for a moment.

"Start scrubbing, you presumptuous brat."

And suppressing his amusement, he gave Harry a nudge toward the cauldrons and one last glance before he turned away to begin his potion.

A/N: Hi, everyone hope you enjoyed this part, as always, please feed the author :). I'm not sure what I'm going to do for chapter four, but I'll think of something.

A special shout out to my current reviewers: willowtree16, toolazytologin (I know how you feel), Chrissy, Marie, Ditzy 1978, robindragon, Dark-Lady-Devinity, ataraxis, Wraith79, RivanKnight, Snapesfavorite, moondancer, Anime Monster, peacockgal17, Clodia, furikakeru, as, xikum, seabiscuit0810. Thank you all so much for taking the time to review! XOXO - Sprinkles