Work Text:
Title: Attitude Adjustment
Author: Jadzia7667
Pairing: HP/SS
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU, mentions of violence
Beta: Laura – aka the_minx_17
Summary: Harry decides he needs to teach the Potions Master a lesson.
Disclaimer: Not mine – they’re JKR’s.
Professor Severus Snape was having a fine morning. First, he’d been able to make a second year Hufflepuff cry over a tiny mistake. Then, he’d been able to take a round twenty points from the Gryffindor third years that infested his classroom at mid morning. Currently, he was looming over the Potter brat, berating him for absolutely no reason whatsoever. A hot thrill of malicious joy welled within him.
Harry looked up and Snape quailed internally. Harry glared; he’d had enough. The young man stood slowly and ground out, “I have had enough of you, Snape. I believe an attitude adjustment is in order.” Harry’s voice was cold and rough. He stood and pushed Snape back with the tip of his forefinger, down the narrow aisle between the desks. Harry advanced deliberately, poking Snape in the breastbone with each step. Snape found himself backing up, eyes narrowing in mingled irritation and the first faint stirrings of fear. Perhaps he’d pushed the young man a bit too far. That last comment regarding Potter’s potential idiot offspring might have been uncalled for.
Particularly in light of the potential other parent for Potter’s future progeny. Snape berated himself for failing to realize exactly how Potter would take that comment, even for a moment.
Reaching the far wall, Harry grabbed the Professor, one handed, by the collar of his robes and raised him off his feet, trapping Snape between the blackboard and the heated strength of his own body. Severus Snape blinked. When had Harry gotten so strong, he wondered faintly? The boy was so incredibly warm; Snape could feel the ragged heat of him through his heavy teaching robes. When exactly had he lost control of his classroom? Ah yes, right after that idiot offspring comment. Snape’s prick gave an interested twitch and he mentally cursed it for betraying him. Judging by the smirk on Potter’s face, said twitch had not gone unnoticed.
The deadly dangerous softness of Potter’s voice slid across his mind. Snape trembled at the display of strength. “You are the worst teacher in the world, Snape. I can put up with that. I can put up with teaching myself what I need to know to pass my NEWT. I can put up with inane homework assignments that are no help at all. I can put up with you allowing Malfoy to sabotage me at every turn.” Harry snorted and flicked an indecipherable look at Malfoy. “Not that he’d dare to do so now.”
Harry thrust his lower abdomen quickly into Snape’s groin and retreated, smirking sarcastically again. Snape groaned silently. No, there was no chance Harry had missed the stiffening of his cock. His face burned with embarrassment.
“Pay attention, Snape. I’m only going to say this once. I will not tolerate any more of your insults. I will not tolerate your unfair treatment of Gryffindors in this classroom. One more unnecessary comment out of your malevolent mouth and you will live to regret it. Do you understand me?” Harry’s eyes narrowed, his face twisted into a sneer fierce enough to rival Snape’s worst. At that moment, Harry was considerably more fearsome than Snape could ever hope to be.
Quicker than impulse, Harry lowered Snape to the ground, took a half step back and simultaneously drew his wand. He pressed it to the point of it to Snape’s neck, just brushing the jugular vein pulsing strongly below his jaw. Snape swallowed convulsively, beads of sweat beginning to gather on his brow.
“You taught me well, Professor. Did you think you hadn’t? Did you think, after I defeated Voldemort, that I’d still be the frightened little boy you love to torment? Think again, Snape.” Harry’s voice hissed the words quietly. The other students were all leaning forward in their seats, hanging on Harry’s every word.
Draco Malfoy turned whiter than the ferret he’d become in fourth year and gulped hard. He didn’t want to be on the wrong end of Potter’s wand, ever. He’d witnessed firsthand what Harry’s righteous anger had done to the Dark Lord. Voldemort had made the mistake of insulting Harry’s parents during his usual long winded confrontation with Harry the previous spring. Harry’s eyes had flashed jolts of raw green magic fire, incinerating Voldemort where he stood. Then Harry had waved his wand in a complicated Celtic incantation and the body of Voldemort had exploded.
When the smoke cleared and the fragments of the Dark Lord’s scaly body had drifted to rest on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall, Harry was still incanting tersely in a language no one else understood. Moments later, seven black spirals of smoke had entered the Hall from seven different directions, coming together to form a funnel cloud of evil. Harry had coolly cast a containment charm at the cloud. Malfoy remembered with a shudder that Harry hadn’t needed his wand then or since. He used it for emphasis to back up his words, and to make people a little less frightened of his raw power.
He’d used his eyes, just his killing curse green eyes, to complete the destruction of Voldemort’s soul. He’d cast the rare and complicated Mors Mortis Animus spell, in archaic Latin, never missing a syllable. He hadn’t needed his wand to concentrate the power of that spell. The black cloud that was all seven of the pieces of Voldemort’s twisted soul had exploded and disappeared. Malfoy could still hear the lingering scream of agony that had been Voldemort’s last sound.
Draco often thought Voldemort was lucky to not have survived; surely there would be a special place of eternal torment in the Underworld for such a monster. He thanked Merlin every day that he’d resisted taking the Dark Mark. He wasn’t exactly on the side of the Light, but he was inclined to respect Potter these days.
Harry had then cast a binding spell, securing all the Death Eaters present. He’d stepped over a stunned Albus Dumbledore to call the Aurors. He didn’t even break a sweat. Harry’d thought for a moment before releasing Snape. He did so curtly, advising the man to retreat to his chambers until the ruckus had died down. Harry would make sure that Snape got his due, he said as he glared at the man’s forearm. A gentler beam of green light shot from his eyes, eradicating Snape’s Dark Mark.
Eyes wide as he stared at the smooth unmarked skin of his forearm, Snape had done as he was told, and left the Hall as quickly as his legs would carry him. Snape had been quiet for several days following the destruction of Voldemort, then had reverted to his usual sarcastic self. Draco shook himself back to the present, thinking that perhaps Snape had been ill advised to provoke Potter’s temper.
The other Slytherins were mute with combined fear and awe. None of them had witnessed the final battle, but everyone had heard about it in great detail. These days, the Slytherins were a quiet bunch around Harry Potter. They were not sure if they should revere him or fear him. The Gryffindors, every one of them, were grinning. It wasn’t natural for Harry to just take what Snape dished out; now Harry had proven, once and for all, that he would not be subjected to Snape’s unfounded animosity anymore.
Harry hadn’t removed his wand from Snape’s jugular. He was still speaking. Draco listened. He, for one, didn’t want to piss Potter off. “I didn’t have to save your life, Professor. I could have let the Aurors take you to Azkaban along with the rest of your little friends. I didn’t, out of respect for Albus. Do not force me to reconsider that decision. Do you understand me, Severus?” Harry placed a mocking emphasis on the Potions Master’s first name.
Snape didn’t reply. Harry growled menacingly. “I asked you a question. Do you understand me, Severus?”
Snape nodded faintly. His eyes glowed; his faced was flushed and he was panting lightly. If Draco hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn Snape was aroused. Harry evidently wasn’t satisfied with merely a nod.
Harry stared at the man, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He drawled, “I can’t hear you, Severus.”
Snape finally found his voice, strangled though it was. “Yes, Potter. I understand.”
Harry smiled. It was not a pleasant expression at all. “Good.” He let Snape go and went back to his seat next to Hermione, who was staring at him, open mouthed. He gazed around the room. “Well? What are you lot waiting for? Back to work.”
The students hurriedly resumed brewing the bone mending solution Snape had set them to work on earlier. Snape sat at his desk, staring at Harry, for nearly ten minutes before rising shakily to inspect the students’ work. He walked quietly up and down the aisles, murmuring instructions and comments to each pair of students.
When he arrived at Harry and Hermione’s cauldron, Hermione was carefully stirring the gelatinous mass while Harry thoughtfully added crushed comfrey leaves, a pinch at a time. The potion was exactly the right color; a sickly brownish green. Snape watched for a moment and offered his olive branch. “Well done, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor. Mr. Potter, please see me after class.”
Harry glanced at Snape and nodded. Hermione stopped stirring and doused the fire while Harry cooled and bottled a sample for grading. He neatly labeled it and turned it in, then set to work cleaning up their station. Moments later, the bell was ringing, signaling the end of the lesson. The other students filed out as quickly as possible, not wanting to rouse Harry’s ire again.
Harry hung back, putting his books and notes away carefully. He approached Snape’s desk casually, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. He simply stood and watched the older man. When the last student was well away from the classroom, Harry smiled, a soft smile that belied his earlier anger.
“Mr. Potter. I apologize. I should not have said what I did. However, if you publicly threaten me again…” Harry cut him off.
“You’ll do nothing, Severus. You now have the perfect excuse for treating Gryffindors in general and me in particular with respect and decency. See to it that you don’t waste this opportunity.” Harry reached out and gently caressed Snape’s chin with his fingers, raising it slightly so the man was forced to look him in the eye.
Harry’s expression was rather soft, but his eyes were firm. “We have a month and a half left before the NEWT testing starts. It’s necessary for you and me to be seen as less antagonistic towards one another by the end of term. Otherwise, nobody will believe it when we announce our bonding. I’d rather not deal with any more unpleasantness than we have to, Severus.”
Snape nodded. He could see the logic being applied, but he didn’t have to like the method. “I see your point. However, don’t you think you were a bit over the top?”
Harry grinned. “No. Did you see Malfoy? He nearly wet himself. He thinks I’m the next Dark Lord. So do the rest of them. They need to think that until the trials are over and every last Death Eater is sentenced to the Kiss. I’m done fighting evil; I won’t allow another Voldemort to rise. I’m sorry I had to be so harsh, Severus. It truly was necessary.”
Harry leaned over and kissed his beloved, then stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him. He held Severus close, conveying his love by touch. Only Albus knew of their true relationship at this point; until Harry was sure all the Death Eaters had been caught and Kissed, he would not risk Severus’ life. If even one had gotten away, Severus would be in danger, and Harry wouldn’t allow that.
The two men stayed in the comforting embrace for a long while, gaining strength from one another. It had been difficult to hide the love they’d grown to feel for one another last year. It was infinitely harder now that Voldemort was gone and they knew they’d have a future together. Still, Harry had to be sure no threat remained.
Finally, Harry pressed another sweet kiss to his intended’s mouth and disentangled himself from Severus. “I’ve got to go, love. I’ve a meeting with Minister Bones.” Amelia Bones had been elected as the new Minister of Magic in a unanimous vote after Fudge and Scrimgeour had been exposed as Death Eaters during the final battle.
Harry had simply mentioned to Rita Skeeter that he thought Madam Bones would be perfect to take over for Scrimgeour. She’d published the interview the next day. Two days after that, Amelia Bones was the new Minister. Harry still marveled at how easy it was to make things happen now. He’d seen to it that Arthur Weasley got a nice promotion along with a suitable raise. Percy had been banished to the lowly job of Secretary to the Undersecretary to the Assistant Minister in charge of Goblin Relations. Harry still found that amusing; fastidious Percy was now required to clean up after goblin luncheons. Since goblins preferred their meals alive when they ate them, it seemed a fitting job for the traitor to the Weasley family.
Snape’s quiet voice brought Harry back to the present. “Will I see you this evening, Harry?”
The young man turned eyes full of love on Severus. “Of course. I don’t know about you, but I have some energy to work off.” Harry’s voice dropped to a seductive purr. “Hard and fast. Then, I think, slow and sweet.”
Snape swallowed and moaned. “Yes. Please. As soon as you can get away.”
Harry nodded, shot Snape a look of carnal intent, and left the room.
The End