Last First Kiss

Last First Kiss

Harry Potter stared up at the staff table in utter disbelief, pondering the unfairness of fate, as well as the sanity of Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster claimed he knew that Gilderoy Lockhart was the very definition of liar, but if this was true, then why did he re-hire the flop?

Harry closed his eyes, hoping that he was just seeing things, but unfortunately, when he reopened them, the git was still standing there, beaming down at all the stunts as if he owned the school. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Professor Lockhart had made amazing progress in regaining his memory, and was allowed to take his old position as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ron banged his fists on the table angrily. "I'm bloody sure that it wouldn't have been too hard for Dumbledore to hire Lupin or someone like that! I mean, given the alternative, I'll bet that some parents would rather have a werewolf teach their kids than an incompetent git like Lockhart!"

Harry looked over at Hermione. "What is Dumbledore on lately? He can't be thinking straight!"

Hermione sighed. "Who knows? I can't see why anyone would hire him for anything!"

"Oh, really?" Ron teased. "I seem to remember a girl who thought Gilderoy Lockhart was the sexiest thing since Brad Pitt!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ok, Ron, three things. One: how on Earth do you know who Brad Pitt is, two: Eww...Pitt is the farthest thing from sexy...except from maybe Snape, and three: THAT WAS SECOND YEAR!"

Ron smiled. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, 'Mione."

"What did I tell you about calling me that?" Hermione asked dejectedly.

"I have no idea," Ron said innocently. "What did you say about calling you that, 'Mione?"

As the two friends started to bicker again (although, when were the ever not bickering?), Harry turned his attention back up to the staff table, where Lockhart was currently trying to engage in pleasant conversation with Snape.

Huh. Good luck with that, Harry thought sarcastically.

Snape turned his head toward Harry and his lip twitched. Now, Harry was used to Snape having odd twitches when he was around, but this one was...different, somehow. It was almost as though Snape had come close to...what? Harry thought for a second. Suddenly, it hit him. It was as though Snape had come close to smiling! No, that was impossible. Harry forced the thought out of his mind. Snape never smiled.

As Snape went on not smiling at the staff table, and Ron and Hermione went on bickering next to him, Harry turned his attention back to his food. But somehow, he couldn't put his professor out of his head. What on earth could have prompted Snape to almost smile when he looked at him? Snape hated him, didn't he? He never smiled around Harry, not unless he had some diabolical scheme cooking inside his foul head, most likely involving Harry, a pair of fire tongs, and a vat of boiling lava, and even then, it wasn't a real smile. It was more of a smirk.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked him worriedly, forcing him out of his thoughts. "You're just staring at your food! Are you feeling sick?"

Harry looked over at his friend. "No, I'm feeling fine. I'm just spacing out, I guess."

Ron stared at Harry suspiciously. "Harry, you don't have a secret girlfriend that you're not telling us about, do you?"

Harry snorted into the glass of pumpkin juice he was drinking out of. "A secret girlfriend?" he asked incredulously. "Why on Earth would I have a secret girlfriend?"

"I don't know, maybe it's someone you don't think we'd approve of."

"Ron, if I had a girlfriend, it wouldn't matter if I thought anyone would approve of her or not. I wouldn't keep her a secret, like I was ashamed of her!"

"I told you," Hermione muttered to Ron. "Harry's not thick like that."

"Are you calling me thick?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"She'd only be calling you think if you had a secret girl, Ron, and you don't, so she's not insulting you," Harry observed. His two best friends went silent, and he looked from one to the other. "Ron, you don't have a secret girlfriend, do you?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "We were going to tell you, Harry, we honestly were, but the timing was just never right..."

"Yeah, so don't feel left out, mate," Ron said quickly.

"Well, I'm feeling left out right now, seeing as you two are just dropping hints, and not actually telling me anything," Harry said bluntly. "Ron, are you and Hermione dating?"

Ron blushed scarlet. "Sort of..." Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "Well, I mean, we haven't exactly gone on a date yet, we just...we were both staying at Grimmauld Place this summer before you got there, you know, and we went to the movies one day...great muggle thing, that...and we...we ended up kissing! I have no idea how it happened, but I'm glad it did." He smiled at his girlfriend.

"So...why were you keeping it from me?"

"Not from you," Hermione assured him. "Just from...certain other people."

"Like Malfoy?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "Yeah, him too," Ron said after a second. "But mostly from my mum."

"Your mum?" Harry asked incredulously. "But she loves Hermione!"

Ron snorted. "Yeah, a little too much. I mean, think about it, Harry. We're in our sixth year. I'm coming of age this year. Mum would just be pressuring us to get married nonstop. If we were going to get married," he looked hopefully at Hermione, "we'd want it to be our choice, and we'd want it to be when we're ready, not when Mum thinks we're ready."

"So...are you two thinking about getting married?" Harry asked, thinking that it was a little soon to be thinking about marriage.

"We're not looking for anything too long-term right now," Hermione assured him. "But you never know. Someday we might. It's a little too soon to be thinking about that, don't you agree?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Anyway, back on topic," Hermione said sternly. "You've been spacing out a lot lately, Harry. What do you think about when you space out?"

"Oh, different things," Harry said. "It's really not that big of a deal."

"What were you thinking about just now?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. He couldn't tell Ron and Hermione that he had been thinking about Snape when he spaced out.

"Come on, Harry, you can tell us!" Ron insisted. "You know we won't think you're weird or anything!"

Harry laughed. "Oh, believe me, you'll think I'm more than weird!"

"Harry, tell us!" Hermione insisted.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you!" Harry took a deep breath. "I was wondering why Snape doesn't smile very often."

Ron stared at him. "Why in Merlin's name would you be wondering that?"

"Well, I was staring up at the staff table, and he looked down at me, and I swear he almost smiled."

"You must have been seeing things, Harry. Snape never smiles."

"Well, he has to smile sometime, doesn't he? I mean, there must be something that makes him happy enough to smile, or at least grin a little."

"Harry, you're scaring me," Ron said, looking genuinely terrified.

Harry sighed. "I'm just tired. A little sleep would do me some good."

"A little sleep would do us all good," Hermione stated. "Maybe then we could forget that Lockhart's back."

Ron groaned. "Hermione! I had already forgotten! Did you really have to remind me?"

"Sorry, Ron," she said, pecking him lightly on the cheek.

~*~

Four months passed, and Harry never thought about Snape again, except for a few times when he wished he could rip his bloody head off.

Valentine's day was coming up, and most of the students were dreading the thought of what Lockhart could be cooking up. Honestly, though. What could be worse than a Gilderoy Lockhart Valentine's Day Special? Knowing him, he'd find some singing trolls, or pink, flying elephants, or some such rot. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Unfortunately, when one is dreading something, it usually comes up faster than if one is looking forward to it, and Valentine's Day is no exception to this rule.

Harry woke up on the dreaded day with an enormous headache, which is an awful way to start a day that would be bad anyway. Walking into the Great Hall was no better, either.

Everything was pink. The walls were pink, the obscene decorations were a shockingly neon magenta, even Draco Malfoy was wearing a pink robe. Worst of all, miniature winged cupids were fluttering in flocks around the enchanted ceiling, complete with tiny bows and heart-tipped arrows.

Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron had his head practically buried in his oatmeal.

"Of all the things," the fiery-headed youth complained sullenly, "Of all the things that exist in this world...He had to get these...Ugh!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You illustrate your point so articulately, Ronald. Please elaborate." Ron stared at her blankly. "Yes, I didn't expect you to understand that. What did you mean by 'these Ugh'? I'm not entirely sure I know what an 'ugh' is."

Ron stared at her. "Truly, your intellect is blinding."

His girlfriend raised her eyebrows. "Ooh, trying to use big words now, are we?"

Ron pecked her cheek lightly. "Well, what am I supposed to do? With you around, I sound even more stupid than usual! I have to do something to make myself sound smart!"

Harry checked his watch. It was 9:00am. Snape was expecting him for Occlumancy at 9:15. The Potions Master had agreed to restart the lessons on the condition that Harry must at least triple his efforts on the subject. Harry had a sneaky suspicion that Dumbledore had had a say in it, but of course, the Headmaster was revealing nothing. "I've got to go," he said reluctantly. "I've got you-know-what with you-know-who."

"I prefer not to be referred to by the Dark Lord's nickname, Mister Potter," Snape sneered from behind the boy. "And you are late."

Harry whipped around to face his professor and checked his watch again. "But...my watch says I still have-"

"Ah, but your watch is not what we're going by, is it, Potter?"

Harry sighed dejectedly. "No, sir."
"Too right. Now remove yourself from this seat this very instant or I shall be forced to smite you where you stand, and then where would the Wizarding world turn for their salvation...and gossip?"

Harry fumed silently but did as the man commanded. Snape obviously couldn't smite him, but he could take points from Gryffindor, and Harry had lost them enough points to last him a lifetime.

Snape placed a forceful hand on the boy's back and steered him smoothly through the halls of the castle and down, down to the dungeons. Harry wondered, not for the first or the last time, why the man chose to stay down there. He reflected on what he had seen in the Professor's memories, both in the pensieve and during the Occlumancy lessons, and wondered if maybe Snape weren't staying there as some sort of way of blocking himself off from all people who could possibly hurt him. Harry's pity for his professor had been growing ever since the pensieve incident, and his thoughts only increased it even more, although he would never tell the man that. Snape obviously treasured his pride, and would scorn at pity.

"Today, Potter, I expect to see at least some minor improvement, impossible as it may be for that concept to sink into your think, bloated skull." He paused to open his door. "If not, I shall-" At that moment, a small arrow came whizzing out of his office, embedding itself in the wall mere inches from Snape's head.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry shouted as Snape pushed him protectively away from the door.

"Eloquently spoken, Potter," Snape said sarcastically, whipping his wand and striding angrily through his office door with Harry following right behind.

Another arrow zinged past them, this time barely missing Harry's arm. Sitting squarely in the center of Snape's desk was one of Lockhart's miniature cupids, taking aim for yet another aerial assault. "Hold still, you gelatinous water bags!" it squeaked angrily.

Snape growled and muttered a complicated freezing spell, enabling the imp to speak without casing them any harm. "Rotten filth!" Snape mumbled furiously. "What in Merlin's name did you hope to accomplish here?"

The creature appeared to try to shrug, realized it couldn't, and settled for raising its eyebrows. "Don't ask me," it said offhandedly. "I only go where I feel potential."

Snape gave it the glare that he usually reserved especially for Harry, and the boy felt a pang of jealousy, oddly enough. Why should he be jealous? If Snape wanted to glare at other...creatures...like that, why should Harry be disappointed? Snape stuck his wand at the creature's throat. "Care to elaborate?" he drawled.

Cupid rolled its eyes. "It's like this, Greasy." Snape's eyebrows shot up, but he kept his silence. "We're only allowed to shoot our stuff if the particular person, or in your place, couple, show potential for love."

Harry's jaw dropped and Snape's eyes narrowed. "Wait..." Harry said slowly. "You're only talking to him, right? Who's this 'couple' you're talking about?"

The creature sighed. "You really are as thick as they say, aren't you? Of course I'm talking to both of you! Why else would I be here, or all places?"

Harry started, and he could see that Snape was equally stunned. He...and Snape? Surely not. But then, why was he blushing...?

Snape was looking at the creature with a mixed look of disgust and curiosity. "And...how exactly do you know when there's 'potential', as you put it/"" he sneered in a way that unnerved Harry. It was like he was asking the thing how it knew that his hair was incredibly greasy, or that his nose was abnormally large, or that he was the snarky-est git in the world.

"Well, it's pretty obvious, don't you think? Just the way you two look at each other says everything. Not to mention that I can sense it. We all can. We...along with a certain, unnamable, professor, decided it was time you realized it, too."

"Bloody Albus," Snape muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, he said you'd figure it was him. He also said not to tell you if you asked...um...oops." It scowled. "Well, I suppose I'll be going them. I figure you two can work this out on your own?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I certainly do not trust you, you disgusting whelp! Why should I assume that you are not going to shoot one of us the moment I release you?"

"You really need to start trusting people," the cupid replied somberly. "That's one of the reasons we felt that you actually needed our help! You don't trust anyone enough to love them, so we felt you needed some...persuasion." The creature looked at him sadly. "You need to be able to open up your heart."

"You of all things should know that I have nothing in me that passes for what most people call a 'heart'," Snape replied dejectedly.

"See, that's your inferiority complex talking. Try having some self-esteem. It's a great thing." He turned his eyes to Harry. "Same goes to you."

Harry looked at it, startled. "What?" He was still having trouble grasping the concept that this creature thought he and Snape could ever be in love. That was ridiculous! Sure, the man had that deep voice...those penetrating eyes...those long, graceful fingers.... Harry shook his head. He couldn't be thinking this! There was no way he was going to fall in love with his professor! Although, now that he thought about it, he wondered just what it would be like to see some emotion other than hatred or indifference behind those cold, protected eyes. One smile would change the man's whole demeanor, and definitely for the better. Oh, stop lying to yourself, Harry! he told himself. The truth was, he'd had a crush on his professor since...well, a long time ago.

Harry was shaken from his thoughts when the creature answered his question. "The only reason that the only relationship you've been in was with that emotional train-wreak Chang girl is that you don't think you can get any better. You wonder why anyone would want you. It's not arrogance to think you can get better, can get what you deserve. You two have a lot in common," he said gesturing at Snape with his eyes. "You could learn so much from each other, if you would only stop and take the time, instead of fighting every chance you can get. And don't try to tell me that you both haven't harbored secret feelings, either! I can see inside your hearts. And don't try to tell me you don't have one," he said quickly, cutting off Snape's argument. "Look at that boy, and then look me in the eyes and honestly tell me that you don't look at him every day and wish he were yours." Snape looked over at Harry for a second, shifted his weight, crossed his arms, and remained silent. "Well, at least you're honest," the cupid sighed. "Look...just go with it, ok? If it doesn't work out, you can look me up and...I don't know...rip off my wings or something. I hate to see love wasted just because the people are too stubborn to know what's good for them."

Snape glared for a second before answering. "We will consider your words. Now get out. If you or one of your kind come within fifty feet of this room again, I shall destroy them on sight."

"Well spoken," the creature complemented him, and as soon as the professor lifted the spell, he flew as quickly as possible out the door.

Harry and Snape stood in the room a long time, not looking at each other, an awkward silence between them. Finally, Snape cleared his throat and spoke.

"Bloody Lockhart, I'll strangle him for this," he grumbled, striding over to his desk and plopping down in his chair.

"Professor..." Harry began timidly. "Is what he said true? Do you really...think that?"

Snape sighed and sat a minute, contemplating. "It...was not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," he finally admitted. "Truth be told, I would have preferred it if you never found out, but that's hardly avoidable now, is it?" He chuckled bitterly. "Oh...fuck it," he said, summoning a bottle of brandy and a glass over to his desk.

"Sir...maybe you shouldn't be drinking right now," Harry said worriedly. Snape was clearly upset, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to deal with a slobbering-drunk Potions Master.

"I'll drink whenever I bloody well feel like it, Potter! I'll thank you to keep your simpering, idiotic mouth shut when it comes to subjects that don't affect you!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but it does affect me! Just once in your life, I'd like you to be honest with me! "Listen to me! Value my opinion!"

Snape rubbed his temples. "Potter, whatever small, useless thing you have in your head that you call an 'opinion' could never have much hold with me on this particular subject."

"And why is that?" Harry asked angrily.

"Because there is nothing to talk about!" Snape roared. "We have no relationship, and I never plan to! Just because you appear to have evolved into something that isn't entirely hart to look at doesn't mean that I'm going to violate all laws, ethics, and age barriers! I mean, bloody hell, Harry, what would the wizarding world say if the Great Harry Potter started dating his professor?"

"What...what if I don't care what they think?" Harry asked softly.

Snape looked at him cautiously. "Excuse me?"

"What if I don't care?" he asked again, more confidently this time. "It's our life; we can make any choices we deem necessary or appropriate."

"And which of those categories would this choice fall under, may I ask?" Snape sneered, although perhaps with less venom than he usually used with the boy.

"Both," Harry said confidently.

Snape looked at him oddly, strode over to the boy, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don know what this would mean, don't you?" he asked in the softest tones Harry had ever heard him use. "Most of your friends would abandon you. Instead of inspired looks, you'd get dirty looks on the street. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Harry considered his choice for less than a second. He knew what he wanted. He gently reached up and caressed the man's cheek, before bringing their lips together in a kiss.

It wasn't hard to tell that Snape didn't get kissed very often, but still, it was the most wonderful kiss Harry could have ever hoped for. "I can't think of anything I want more," Harry said truthfully, kissing him again. Severus almost immediately deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Harry's mouth, and the boy eagerly accepted it.

When they broke apart, Severus sighed. "I really am going to need that brandy," he mumbled. He looked happier than Harry had ever seen him, though. "Would you like a glass?" he offered. "Normally, I wouldn't ask, seeing as you're underage, but it seems we're going to be doing a lot of underage, illegal things, so we might as well go all the way, no?" Severus smiled, the first true, genuine smile Harry had ever seen him give, and he couldn't help smiling back. He followed Severus over to the desk and wrapped his arms around the man, sighing contentedly.

Harry Potter had just had his last first kiss.