Hogwarts, Corridor

Severus reached into his bag and pulled out the notebook labeled Kiss, the leather slightly worn from frequent use. He flipped it open to the latest page, scanning the names and details he'd jotted down. So far, he had kissed eight people—some for strategy, others out of curiosity, and a few for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of.

He paused, tapping his quill lightly against the parchment. The best kiss, by far, was still a toss-up between Lucius and Bellatrix. Lucius had been unexpected, full of control and smooth confidence. Bellatrix, on the other hand, had kissed him with a wild intensity that lingered long after they'd parted. The memory of both left a strange heat in his chest, one he wasn't quite ready to understand.

Severus sighed, scribbling a small note next to Lucius's name, "Best technique," and one next to Bellatrix, "Most passionate."

"Eight down..." he muttered under his breath, "but who's next?"

As he pondered the question, he suddenly felt a firm grip yank him into a dark, empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind him. His instincts took over, and he quickly pulled out his wand, muttering, "Lumos," as light flared at the tip.

The small, illuminated space revealed a familiar, messy head of black hair and round glasses reflecting the glow of his wand. James Potter.

Severus's heart skipped a beat, the tension in the room thickening instantly. His grip tightened on his wand as he glared at James, his voice dripping with venom. "What the hell, Potter?"

Potter, standing stiffly in front of the door, gave him a weak glare. His posture was rigid, his hands tense at his sides, and his wand gripped tightly in one. "I know what you've been doing, Snape."

Severus's eyes narrowed, his expression cold and calculating. "What are you talking about?"

Potter didn't meet his gaze, his eyes darting away as he focused intently on the wand in his hand, his knuckles white from the pressure. His voice, though hard, had an underlying tremor to it. "I—I know you think I'm dumb—"

"You are," Severus interrupted with a sneer.

Potter's jaw clenched, but he continued, refusing to rise to the bait. "But I'm smart enough to put the pieces together and know you kissed Remus."

Severus froze for a moment, surprise flickering briefly in his eyes before his mask of indifference fell back into place. Of all the people to find out, he hadn't expected Potter. He could see the cracks forming in Potter's usual bravado, though—his posture too stiff, his voice betraying emotions that were bubbling beneath the surface.

"Interesting," Severus said slowly, his tone measured, almost teasing. "And what exactly are you going to do with that information, Potter?"

Potter's eyes snapped to his, finally meeting Severus's gaze, the intensity there unmistakable. "Why did you do it?" His voice was sharp, but there was an edge of something else—hurt, confusion.

Severus took a slow step forward, watching as Potter flinched slightly but didn't move away. "Why do you care?" Severus's voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "Jealous?"

Potter's grip on his wand tightened, and for a moment, Severus wondered if he might actually hex him. But Potter remained still, his eyes burning with something Severus couldn't quite place.

"He's my friend," Potter hissed, his voice shaking slightly. "If you're just... playing games with him—"

"Games?" Severus cut in, a mocking smile creeping across his face. "You think this is about games, Potter? What I do is none of your concern." His eyes flickered with dark amusement. "Or perhaps... you want it to be."

Potter's breath hitched slightly, and Severus could see the battle happening behind his eyes, the conflict between his emotions and the image he had to maintain. Potter's composure was crumbling, and Severus could feel the power shift between them.

"You don't know anything about me," Potter muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think I know enough. More than you'd like to admit."

He stepped even closer, until they were mere inches apart, daring Potter to react. "I think you can't stand the idea that someone else might've caught Lupin's attention...OR maybe you don't want others to have my attention." The words were sharp, cutting into the unspoken tension that had been lingering between them for years.

Potter's face flushed with anger, his eyes hardening as he looked at Severus, but he remained silent. Severus could see the truth in his expression, the jealousy, the possessiveness.

Before Potter could reply, Severus leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "Maybe you're not as smart as you think, Potter."

The room was thick with silence as Potter stared back at him, his chest rising and falling heavily, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand. For a brief second, it seemed like he might lash out, but instead, he spoke up, his voice raw and uncertain.

"Why Remus?"

Severus blinked, caught off guard by the question. He had expected Potter to storm off in anger or at least attempt to hex him, not stand there sounding like a wounded puppy, his bravado completely stripped away.

"I—" Severus faltered for a moment, the usual sharpness in his voice dulling as he tried to process the unexpected vulnerability in front of him. "What?"

Potter took a shaky breath, as if summoning the courage to keep going. His eyes darted away for a second before locking back onto Severus, the hurt now unmistakable. "Of all people... why him?"

Severus could feel the tension in the air shift, no longer the usual hostility but something more fragile, something that made him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to seeing Potter like this—unguarded, his walls crumbling down right in front of him. And for once, Severus didn't have a ready answer.

He opened his mouth to say something biting, something to tear into Potter like he always did, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he found himself hesitating, caught between the truth and the lies he had so carefully built around himself.

"Does it matter?" Severus finally replied, his voice softer than he intended. "What difference does it make to you?"

"It makes a difference," Potter shot back, his voice cracking with emotion. "He's... he's my friend. If you're just using him, playing with him—"

Severus cut him off, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not using him, Potter. Not everything I do revolves around your little group." His words were harsh, but there was a flicker of uncertainty behind them, as if he wasn't even sure what his motives had been.

Potter shook his head, his grip on his wand loosening slightly. "I just don't get it. Remus... he's kind, he doesn't deserve to get caught up in whatever this is." His eyes softened, the anger from earlier fading into something more vulnerable. "He deserves better."

Severus felt a strange pang of guilt at Potter's words, though he quickly shoved it aside. "And you think you're the one to decide that?" he asked coldly. "What Lupin deserves is his own business, not yours."

Potter swallowed hard, and for a moment, Severus could see the cracks widening in the mask Potter usually wore, the confident façade slipping. "I know Remus better than anyone," Potter muttered, his voice strained. "And I know... I know he'd never fall for someone like you."

Severus felt something twist inside him at that. Potter's words were like a knife, sharp and cutting deeper than he cared to admit. But instead of retaliating, Severus simply raised an eyebrow, his voice low and calm, masking the sting he felt inside.

"Am I that bad?" he asked, his voice almost daring Potter to answer. "Do you really think someone has to be deranged to want to kiss me?"

Potter blinked, taken aback by the question. For a moment, he seemed to be at a loss for words, his usual bravado faltering. Severus held his gaze steadily, waiting, feeling a strange, twisted satisfaction in forcing Potter to confront this.

"I didn't—" Potter started, but his voice caught, the usual confidence nowhere to be found. He shook his head slightly, his brow furrowing in frustration. "That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?" Severus pressed, his voice sharpening as he stepped closer. "You said it yourself. You can't wrap your head around the idea that someone—anyone—might want me. Maybe it's you who's the one afraid, Potter."

Potter looked away, his jaw clenched tight. Severus could see the internal struggle on his face, the tension in his shoulders as he tried to reconcile whatever was going on in his head. His hands trembled slightly, his grip on his wand loosening even more.

Severus took another step closer, his voice now almost a whisper. "What is it, Potter? Does it bother you that Remus might want me? Or is it that you don't understand why you might?"

Potter's head snapped back up at that, his eyes wide, a flicker of panic crossing his face. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken truths that neither of them was ready to fully acknowledge. Severus watched as Potter's breath hitched, the usual arrogance stripped away, leaving him exposed in a way that Severus had never seen before.

"I don't—" Potter stammered, his voice cracking slightly. "That's not... I'm not—"

"Not what?" Severus asked, cutting him off before he could finish. "Not curious? Not jealous?" His tone was taunting now, feeding off the vulnerability in Potter's eyes. "You say you're here for Remus, but I don't think that's the whole story, is it?"

Potter stood frozen, caught in the weight of Severus's words, unable to deny the truth behind them. The silence between them was thick, oppressive, as if neither wanted to be the first to break whatever strange spell had fallen over them.

Severus took a final step forward, close enough now that he could feel the warmth radiating off Potter's body. His voice dropped to a near whisper. "So tell me, Potter... who is it that really wants to kiss me?"

Potter's breath caught, his eyes darting between Severus's lips and his eyes, and for the briefest moment, Severus saw it—a flicker of something raw and unguarded in Potter's expression. But just as quickly, Potter tore his gaze away, moving around Severus and heading toward one of the tables in the corner of the room. He leaned on it heavily, as if putting physical distance between them would help regain his composure.

"You've got no idea what you're saying, Snivellus," Potter muttered, his voice shaky but edged with the familiar bite of contempt. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, staring down at the floor as though it held the answers he couldn't find in himself.

Severus, still standing in the middle of the room, raised an eyebrow at the obvious deflection. The tension that had gripped the space moments before still hummed in the air, but now Potter was back to throwing up his walls, using his usual insults like a shield. But Severus could see through it—he had seen that flicker of something real, something vulnerable, and it made him bolder.

"Is that all you've got?" Severus sneered, not bothering to move from where he stood. "A weak insult and then you run away, pretending none of this happened?"

Potter's jaw clenched, but he didn't turn around. "Shut up, Snape."

"Or what, Potter?" Severus pressed, his voice cold, but his eyes glittered with curiosity. "What are you going to do? Pretend you didn't feel it? Pretend you're not running away because you're terrified of what you might actually want?"

Potter's knuckles turned white as his hands gripped the edge of the table, his back still turned to Severus. The silence between them was suffocating, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

"You don't know anything about me," Potter muttered, his voice low, but there was a tremor in it, betraying the conflict boiling beneath the surface. "You think you do, but you don't."

"I know enough," Severus countered, taking a slow step toward him. "I know you like me far more than you'll ever admit. And it's eating you alive."

Potter finally turned around, his face flushed with anger, but also something else—something Severus couldn't quite place. His eyes blazed with frustration as he stared at Severus, torn between fighting and fleeing.

"Just drop it," Potter said, his voice almost pleading now. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then make me understand," Severus replied, his voice quiet but firm, daring Potter to keep running or confront the truth head-on. "Because I'm not the one running from it—you are."

Potter stared at him for a long moment, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. Then, without another word, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single, fluid movement. Severus barely had time to register what was happening before Potter's hand shot out, grabbing the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. His eyes darted from Severus's lips to his eyes, something desperate and wild burning behind them.

"God... Lily won't know," Potter whispered, his voice barely audible, trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.

Before Severus could respond, Potter's lips crashed against his, the kiss hard and hungry, full of pent-up frustration and confusion. Severus's body tensed instinctively at the sudden contact, his mind spinning as if trying to catch up with the moment. He felt Potter's hand tighten in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

For a second, Severus considered pulling away, but the heat of Potter's touch and the force of the kiss left him frozen, caught between Potter's other hand gripped Severus's shoulder, steadying himself as if afraid to let go. The kiss was messy, frantic, filled with an intensity that neither of them had anticipated. Severus could taste the desperation on Potter's lips, feel the way his breath hitched as though he was terrified of what he was doing, but unable to stop.

Severus's mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions tangling together. James Potter—James Potter—was kissing him. And not just kissing him... but kissing him like it was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

But Lily.

The thought flickered in Severus's mind, like a faint warning, but Potter's whispered words rang louder.

Lily won't know.

It was as if Potter had already made his decision, and now, Severus found himself standing on the edge of something he didn't fully understand but couldn't pull away from.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, the weight of what had just happened crashing down between them like a tidal wave. Potter's eyes were wide, filled with a mix of panic and disbelief as if he couldn't quite comprehend what he had just done before he darted out the classroom.

Severus, for once, was speechless.

Hogwarts, Griffindor Boys Dorms

As soon as the door closed behind him, James flopped onto his bed and buried himself under the covers, his cheeks flushed and his entire body trembling.

He just kissed Severus Snape.

Severus Snape kissed him back.

He kissed him back!

James didn't know how to process it. The boy who had been his public enemy for years had just kissed him with enough intensity to make his knees go weak. The memory of Snape's lips against his lingered, and a wave of confusion washed over him.

What had just happened?

James squeezed his eyes shut, replaying the moment in his mind. The flicker of surprise in Snape's dark eyes, the way his breath had caught, the warmth that spread through him when Severus leaned in closer. It was a moment he had never expected, not from Snape. It felt surreal, as if he had just stepped out of a dream.

But then the weight of it settled in, the reality of what it meant. How could he have kissed Severus Snape? A Slytherin, his rival, the very person he'd spent years teasing and antagonizing. It was madness.

Yet, the thrill of the kiss was undeniable. Something had sparked between them, something James had never allowed himself to think about. He'd always seen Snape as a dark shadow in the corridors, a figure to mock, to best. But that kiss had changed everything.

With a sigh, James pushed the covers down and sat up, staring blankly at the wall. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to make sense of his racing thoughts. Did Snape feel the same way? Or was this some sort of cruel joke? James's heart raced at the thought.

The door creaked open, and Sirius slipped in with Remus close behind, his eyes bright with excitement. "Oi, Prongs! You'll never guess what I heard!"

James's heart sank. "Guys, not now."

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow. He sat down on the edge of James's bed, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Sirius added with a small snicker.

"I kissed Snape," James blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

Sirius stared at him, mouth agape. "What? You did what?"

The shock on Sirius's face was almost comical, while Remus's expression shifted through a range of emotions—first disbelief, then confusion, and finally a hint of sadness.

"You kissed Snape?" Remus repeated, his tone cautious as he tried to grasp the situation. "As in Severus Snape?"

"Yes, that Snape!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I don't know how or why it happened! One minute, we're arguing over the fact he snogged Remus, and the next… well, we kissed."

"Wait, what?! Both of you snogged him?!" Sirius's eyes widened, and he leaned in closer, practically bouncing on his toes. "This just got a million times more crazy!"

"Stop it, Padfoot!" Remus interjected, a flush creeping up his neck. "This isn't about me. We're talking about James and Snape!"

James felt a rush of heat in his cheeks. "It's not like that! I wasn't even thinking about Remus when it happened. I mean, yeah, I was angry about that, but—"

"Angry enough to kiss him?" Sirius teased, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Sounds like there's more going on here than you want to admit."

"Shut up!" James snapped, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips despite his embarrassment. "Remus, why don't you just go snog him again, and then I'll feel much better."

Remus's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his eyes wide with shock. "Me? Snog him again?" he stammered, glancing between James and Sirius as if he couldn't quite process the suggestion. "No way! That's not happening! I mean—what? Why would I do that?"

"Come on, Remus," Sirius said, still grinning, clearly enjoying his friend's flustered state. "It's just a bit of fun! If James is feeling confused, maybe a little more snogging will help clear the air."

"I—uh… I don't think that's how it works," Remus mumbled, looking down at his hands, his cheeks burning hotter. "Besides, it's a bit more complicated than that, don't you think? I mean, we're talking about Severus Snape here!"

"Complicated? You just snogged your enemy," James pointed out, trying to rein in his own embarrassment as he looked at Remus, whose face was practically glowing now. "That's a level of complicated we don't usually deal with. But you've got to figure out what you really want."

James sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I guess I just need to sort my feelings out before I do anything else. I have to make sure lily never finds out; that's the priority."

"Fair enough," Sirius said, his grin softening. "Just don't drag it out too long. The longer you wait, the messier it'll get."

"Yeah, I know," James replied, feeling the weight of his friends' expectations. As they settled back into their usual banter, Remus still looked flustered, his cheeks a rosy hue that didn't seem to fade.

James couldn't shake the image of Severus's surprised expression when their lips had met. It lingered in his mind, teasing at his thoughts as he lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The warmth of the kiss was still fresh on his lips, a reminder that nothing would ever be the same again.

God...Snape really was gonna be the death of him..