They Didn't Know We Were Seeds

During the next defense against the dark arts class, Severus receives a detention. For nothing more than bloody propping his head in hands. At least he can take comfort in the fact he's not the only one who's been punished so severely for something so petty. Among the Gryffindors, Peter is also assigned a detention for tapping his foot, and Magda Pucey of Slytherin is given one after Demitri catches her chewing on the white of her thumbnail. After Pucey, all of the students who've yet to lose their Saturday afternoons, are too afraid to so much as look away from Demitri and his chalkboard as he lectures about the importance of always having your wand not only on your person, but in a holster on your wand-arm when not in use.

As irksome as the detention is, it gives him something to bond with his fellow Slug Club members during the first meeting of the school year that evening.

"Merlin, Professor Prince is a git! He gave my girlfriend detention after she yawned in his class!" Clarence Bones complains to a fellow Hufflepuff a few steps away.

Gulping down the last half is his very obviously spiked-punch, Severus walks over to the Hufflepuffs and says, "In our last class, Prince gave three detentions out. One for foot-tapping, another for nail-biting, and one to me when I rested my head in my hands."

The other Hufflepuff with Bones, a dusky-skinned, broom-thin seventh-year Severus can't recall the name of whistles. "Wow. How many students d'you reckon he'll have to scrub the floors of his classroom tomorrow?"

Severus scoffs loudly and throws out his arms, causing himself to stumble in the process. "Please! Prince probably has enough of us to clean even his ceiling."

Bones squints at him. "Which punch bowl have you been drinking out of? You look a little shaky, lad," he says.

"'M fine," Severus grumbles. "Just had a couple of glasses."

The teenagers share a glance. "From the punch bowl on the right or the punch bowl on the left?"

"Right."

Bones sighs. "Brilliant. That's both of them then."

"I told Crispin not to spike both of the punches," the other Hufflepuff grumbles.

"Like that prick listens to anyone. He's probably hoping it'll loosen up the birds. You know he's been eyeing Taryn Robin since the start of term."

Squinting at them, Severus asks, "Why's Horace not had the elves replace it?"

The still without-a-name Hufflepuff laughs. "Oh, calling him Horace now, are you?"

"Belt up!" he snaps, baring his teeth at the Hufflepuff in a far from friendly manner.

"Phil's just teasing you, lad," Bones tells him, slinging an arm around Severus's shoulders. "Come on, you're friendly with Clara Parkinson, right? Let's take you over to her. She can take you back to your dorms."

Severus jerks away from the older teenager, only to totter and be caught by Phil before he can fall face first to the floor (he's never drinking again until he knows a couple glasses of spiked punch aren't going to make him this unsteady anymore). "Whoa there!" the Hufflepuff murmurs. "Careful." Keeping a firm hand on the back of his neck, Phil the Hufflepuff guides him across the room. "This is your first time drinking, huh, lad?"

"No, used to all the time," Severus grumbles as he glances around the room. There were a lot of red-faced teenagers who are far too merry for so early in the school year. Not really thinking at all as he watches a pair of sniggering teenagers slip into the classroom's closet to do Merlin-knows-what, he says, "Then I was ten and the only thing around was the piss-poor excuse for a scotch my dad liked. Wasn't gonna drink that. Not only's it gross, it woulda just gotten me the belt."

"I think he drank more than two glasses," Bones mutters above him to Phil.

Phil snorts. "I'd say!"

Severus just scowls.

"Ah, Clara!" Bones abruptly shouts, leaving them to get in the girl's personal space.

Looking far too sober for what's transpiring, the Parkinson girl takes a step back from Bones. "Clarence," she replies.

Jutting his thumb over at Severus, the Bones boy asks, "Can you do me a favor? That lad there's had a bit too much of the punch. D'you think you could take him back to your dorms?" He smirks. "Wouldn't want him to get lost on his way."

Clara puts a hand to her cheek. "Oh dear." Gesturing for Phil to release him, Clara reaches out and takes Severus's wrist. "Come on, Severus. I think it's time we head back to our dorms."

He digs his feet into the grooves of the stone floor. "I can get there myself." After a pause, he adds, "When I wanna."

"Severus…" the teenager begins with a face resignation, knowing just as well as Severus there's no way he's leaving the party without a fight. However, before she can start to lecture or persuade him, a pair of hands grab Severus from behind and toss him over a broad shoulder.

Thrashing frantically, Severus yells, "Lemme go!"

"Not on your life, lad," a new voice says. "I hope you don't mind the help, Clara."

Where he is, Severus can just see Clara's countenance. Her expression is one of complete surprise. "No, thank you, Benjy," she replies, eyes suddenly warm and besotted.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" a new, but very familiar voice demands.

Ah, it seems dear old Horace has finally picked up on the fact Severus is being manhandled against his will. Before he can even start to complain, however, Benjy spins around. Which means Severus spins around too. Very dizzy now, he clenches his teeth together tightly to keep his dinner from spewing out of him. He highly doubts the upper year will take well to chunks of regurgitated carrot and potato cascading down his back – even if it seems he's trying to get on Clara's good side.

"Ah, sorry Professor Slughorn. I'm helping Clara here take this one back to their dorms," Benjy apologizes.

A foot or so away, Bones pipes up, "Someone spiked the punch. Snape there had a bit too much of it."

"Godric's sword!" the man gasps (why he sounds so shocked, Severus doesn't know. He knows for a fact spiked punch is a near-constant occurrence at Slug Club parties. The only way they're ever enjoyable is if you're a little sloshed). "I'll have the elves replace it right now. Wingry!"

A distinct pop sounds to the left of Severus. "Yessir Professor Slughorn?"

"Please get a fresh batch of punch to replace the old ones."

"Be backs in a minute, sir."

Slughorn chortles nervously. "Let's try and keep the fact the punch got spiked amongst ourselves, hm? If our dear Headmaster catches wind of this… prank, he may not let another get-together happen for quite some time."

"Of course, Professor," the upper years chorus.

"Thank you, young men and lady," Slughorn concludes before the sound of footsteps moving away from them starts, indicating he's once again disappeared into the groups of students surrounding them to mingle.

"Ready?" Benjy asks Clara as he shifts his hold on Severus a little.

"Yes," she says. "Thank you, Clarence and Phil, for bringing Severus to me."

"It's no trouble! See you!" Clarence replies chipperly.

Soon enough, they're moving and Severus begins to squirm again. Benjy tightens his hold. "You're going to fall on your head," he tells him.

"At least then this indignen– indidnan– embarrassment would be over!" Severus hisses.

The pair laugh. "Alright," Benjy relents, "if I put you down, you're going to walk right between us nicely, got it?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to disagree, but he'd really like to be put down even more. "Yes," Severus agrees.

A moment later, he's upside right, wavering between the stocky figure of Benjy and slender one of Clara. A hand on his shoulder helps him to steady. "Are you alright?" the Parkinson girl frets.

He shakes off her touch. "Fine."

Hands now in the pockets of his robes, Benjy jerks his head in the direction of the dungeons. "You're still going to your dorm, lad."

He scowls deeply at the cleft-chinned Gryffindor beater. "Whatever."

Benjy takes no offense, and, instead, laughs, which makes Clara smile. Of course, the moment he turns his frown on her, she tries to cover it up with her hand. "I know you think this is funny," grumbles Severus.

Looking quite ashamed and apologetic, she says, "Of course not! It's not funny at all that someone spiked the punch and you got pissed because of it."

"It is a little," the Gryffindor counters. He gives Severus's back a hardy slap. "The lad here probably didn't even know it had vodka in it! You're what, thirteen?"

Severus glares up at Benjy. "Fourteen." Stomping ahead of the pair just a little, he adds, "And I knew exactly what was in the punch! I've had vodka before."

"You have?" Clara whispers.

He looks over his shoulder at her. "Yes."

"…Boyd hasn't been giving you and Sage free reign of his liquor, has he?"

Severus scoffs. "No. Boyd has better things to do than get his little brother and I drunk."

"Don't worry, Clara," Benjy soothes. "Lads his age are always getting into stuff they shouldn't." He grinned impishly. "Trust me. I was his age in the not too distant past."

Clara relaxes a bit and Severus rolls his eyes. Keeping quiet as they make the rest of the walk back to the Slytherin dorms, he half-listens to the two as they talk about classes, their mates, and the latest gossip that had been going around at the Slug Club party. By the time they reach the Slytherin dorms, it clicks.

Benjy's hardly taken his eyes off Clara the entire walk back to the dorms and the Parkinson girl's face has been a steady pink for the past fifteen minutes. Tongue loose from the punch, he blurts, "You're gonna marry each other."

Their gazes snap to him. After a bout of silence, they laugh.

"You're so pissed," Clara giggles. Reaching once more for Severus's wrist, she tugs him toward the portrait guarding the entrance to their dorm. "Let's get you to bed," she says. "Thanks for the help, Benjy. See you in transfiguration on Monday."

He smiles and waves. "It was no trouble, bye."

Letting himself not only be guided into the Slytherin common room, but into his dorm as well, Severus stares at Clara as she pulls a pair of jimjams out of his trunk. "Go put those on," she orders.

He takes the clothes. "It's obvious he fancies you."

Closing his trunk as quietly as she can, Clara just sighs. "Sure, he's fit and all. But my father would kill me if I marry a Fenwick. His grandfather's a Muggleborn."

"Sometimes you have to risk everything if you wanna even be a little happy at the end," he advises.

Standing back up, Clara pats his cheek. "You're too sweet." She next takes him by the shoulder and steers him towards the bathroom. "Get changed and go to bed." She looks over her shoulder at Severus's many slumbering dormmate. "Try and be quiet, alright? Your roommates are all sleeping."

"You're not gonna regret it," he insists.

The Parkinson girl sighs. "If you go to bed, I'll take your opinion under advisement, okay?"

Severus nods. "Okay."

She pats his face one last time. "Goodnight, Severus."

"G'night."

Thoughts? I felt this might be a nice bit of fun and lightness after the last couple of chapters.

Also, congrats to KnowInsight for being the 750th review of TDKWWS and receiving the one-shot :)

Thank you, everybody, for reading!