What Snape Saw

It is not every day I get to catch both of the Gryffindor shining stars, but when it happens, it is glorious. Snotty little brats, think they are better than everyone else. It will do them good to be put in their places, firmly in the roles of low-life students. Dumbledore and McGonagall allow them too much leeway, too much freedom to do as they please. Humph. Well, scraping the mummified remains of the 4th years' shrinking potion and scrubbing the burned cauldrons of the disasters known as 2nd years will do well to shrink the over inflated sense of selves those two have.

Hmm…they are being far too quiet, despite being seventh years. I wonder what they've got up too if they're not…

"OW!"

"Dammit, Hermione!"

I rush in to investigate. Even though I loathe the presence of both of them, they are still, despite it all, my students and under my supervision at this moment. I stop in the doorway to glimpse Potter holding her hand in his, his wand glowing with the green light of a healing spell. I back away, but not before I see her face crumple into tears, her exhaustion and worry palpable even to me. Potter wraps his arms about her, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

They are hugging on my detention time! And--

When did Potter get so tall?

Gently, he sways them both in time with some unheard music; he's saying something to her but I am too far away to catch it. She shakes her head and then gives one powerful, shuddering sob. He hugs her tighter--careful, or you might crush her, Potter--and she quiets immediately.

"Dammit," he repeats. "This is so unfair."

"Oh, it's all right," she says, turning her head to wipe her tears on her sleeve. "I don't mind, really."

"Well, you should. Ugly, nasty sonofa-"

"Shhh," she shushes, and places several fingers on his lips. "Shh. He may hear you."

"I don't care. He's still a fucking sonofabitch for giving you detention. You're Head Girl. You're allowed to be out after curfew." His voice, at first hard and anger-filled, gives way to indignation.

Of course. Righteous indignation. The same tone his sire used on the rare occasions he served detention. He also used those same words to describe me, then. Foul, dirty mouths on the whole lot of those cocky bastards.

"Shh," she says again. "Technically, I wasn't supposed to be out that late. I wasn't on Head Girl business."

"As if studying for N.E.W.T.s isn't your business. It IS your business! Can't help it if we fell asleep on the sofa in the stacks. It was much too warm up there. Merlin, we were both fully clothed." Pause. "Is your hand better?" He kisses it. She purrs.

Miss Granger purrs? Since when? Well, it's to be expected; Griffyndors are often the touchy-feely types, those two in particular along with the youngest Weasley male. They're forever holding hands and touching arms and hugging and--

She giggles. Miss Granger giggles? Miss Know-It-All-By-The-Book Granger giggles like a common schoolgirl?

"Oh, Harry."

"Seems a bit inappropriate for you to be laughing at a time like this," he huffs, but there is amusement in his voice. "You've lost hours of revision time, and I had to miss practice."

"We'll both survive." He kisses her head.

However does he do that without getting a mouthful of hair? I do hope she's washed it recently. Human hair can harbor all sorts of--

"Still," she continues lightly, "it does seem rather ironic we get detention for something so minor as being in the library studying fifteen minutes beyond curfew. Merlin, if Professor Snape knew all the really naughty things we've been up to this year."

Oh, really?

"He'd take a billion points, and we'd never get out of the dungeons," Potter laughs.

Arrogant little swot! I'll teach him to…

"My god, if he'd caught us casting that Resurrecto spell in the West tower room during Christmas hols, he would've turned inside out," Miss Granger says lightly.

The Resurrecto! Do they have any idea how dangerous that is? They put the entire castle in peril with their foolishness! And just how did they find that spell?

"Or you taking target practice with that 9 mil handgun Mundungus got for us," Potter says. "We certainly scared the daylights out of that herd of thestrals."

Holy Mother of--

"Good thing your silencing and concealment spells are the best among any in the kingdom," she returns.

Thank you, Miss Granger. I will certainly be checking for any illegally set concealing spells from now on, particularly when you two are supposedly about.

"What about the slashing hex you cast in the annex of the DADA room?" he says, still hugging her closely. "It nearly got out of hand."

"And we can't forget that foul Acido Permantus potion. I thought we were both goners on that one," Miss Granger adds. Her arms tighten around him.

So that's what happened up there. I'll be damned, and now, so will they.

"And the sex," he says softly into her ears.

What? Did I hear that correctly? Must cast enhancement spell...Granger and Potter are....

A laugh and a huge, simultaneous sigh. "Oh, yes, the sex."

Potter and Granger. Having intercourse. With each other? I'd always pegged Potter as the fey type. He and Weasley have always been overly fond of each other, for boys. But her. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Shagging, banging, copulating with the resident celebrity. Not at all whom I'd thought she'd end up with.

"Harry, I can't tell you how happy I am we finally--you know," she says, breathlessly.

"Yeah, me too. Thanks for, well, taking my virginity." A smile.

She laughs. "And mine as well. Best Christmas present I ever received."

HA! So that's what they were up to during Christmas. They both missed quite a few meals. A bit of the horizontal tango in a Hogwarts four-poster, eh? Teenagers who think fumbling about in the dark is lovemaking.

"I love sleeping with you," he says, his voice low and filled with longing. Oh, gods, is he getting aroused? "I can't wait to be with you always, always have you in my bed. Every night." He kisses her forehead. "I miss sleeping with you more than anything else."

"More than the sex?" she teases.

"Well, yeah, sort of." Pause. "Well, okay, maybe not quite as much as the sex, but pretty damn close." He smiles, hiding his blushing face in her bushy hair.

Ah, and once again the true nature of the beast emerges. Teenage boys and sex, the two terms are synonymous, are they not? It's amazing anything approaching academic achievement goes on in this school at all, what with the whole lot of them thinking of where their next sexual encounter will take place and with whom.

Startled pause. What the hell am I doing? I should be grading essays. I should be doing the nightly rounds, looking for other miscreants and rules-breakers. I should NOT be standing in the shadows listening to these two--these two foolish, utterly nonsensical, pathetic excuses for wizards.

A moan.

Merlin, what was that? Oh, for the love of--they aren't. They are. They are! Kissing!?! In my classroom?!? On MY detention time?!?

"Hermione, I need you." His voice is rough with passion.

My. God. That kiss...that kiss is utterly, totally…obscene. When did Potter get so tall? Why do I keep saying that? Is that...that kiss has to be illegal under the student code of conduct. Why am I still watching this? Why can I not move? Why am I...? Not now, you traitorous prick! Down, down! This is NOT arousing. This is not in the least bit interesting. Oh, all right. A stroke or two, but nothing more.

"Shh, Harry!" She breaks the kiss and looks around frantically. "Not here."

"Yes, here." His hands are everywhere on her body, in her hair, stroking her face. "Cast a silencing charm. I'll take care of the concealment spell."

"But... all right.

HA! But I know how to get around both charms. There! What?! What the fuck am I doing? Must. Not. Look. Oh, why-no. Must. Not. Oh, sweet Salazar's semen, I cannot believe I'm watching two teenagers, two infuriating, exasperating Gryffindors go at each other in such a crude, unschooled, crass, clumsy--"

Oh, dear God, they have done this before. And his hand, he's--and hers is in his trousers.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, NO! They are NOT using my classroom as a bloody trysting place. The nerve! The cheek! The outrage! Hell, the stupidity. Move, feet. Damn you. And you, you loathsome member. Two more strokes, and that is IT!

I. Am. NOT. Going. To. Watch. I forbid it. I am Severus Snape, the world's foremost authority on three kinds of potions. Holder of the Certificate of Advanced Potions Making from the Potions Institute of Bern. And I am NOT going to watch Harry Potter get laid!

"Hermione, please," he groans.

"Please what?" she says coyly.

Wait. Granger is. . .she's fellating him. In my classroom. Giving him head, going down, slobbing the knob, slurping the bishop, cleaning the pestle…. What the HELL am I thinking?!? Stop, STOP!! Oh, discontinue that twitching, you treacherous, double crossing...God, what a boner! All right, all right. Fine, is that what you want? Ahhhh, yesssss....

"Merlin, Hermione. Keep doing that," Potter moans.

Wait. What am I thinking?!? Get a grip, man. Right. Now. Now that I have sufficiently recovered myself, the question is whether I catch them during or after? During would be embarrassing for all of us. After would be less than satisfactory. Yes, during. Erection down? Robe smoothed? Excellent.

"MR. POTTER!"