I Didn't Mean THOSE Kinds of Sessions
“Are- Are you mad at me, Sir?” asked Severus, nervously looking down.
“Have you recently done something to incur my anger?”
“I- I gave W-Weasley detention,” said Severus, cringing.
“No, Pet. He deserved it. Now, come on. Let’s go to sleep.”
Harry did not touch him that night.
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Severus was walking on eggshells. Harry hadn’t touched him the whole last night and had not looked at him once the whole class. He knew he shouldn’t have given Weasley the detention yesterday. As much as Harry denied it, he must have been upset. Weasley just irked him. But Master comes first. Always.
Severus walked around the room, looking at people’s potions. Usually, he commented and moved on with the occasional loss of points from Gryffindor. But now his master was in Gryffindor. He would be displeased if Severus took away points.
“Miss Granger, excellent potion. Twenty points to Gryffindor.”
The whole class looked up in shock, the Slytherins in rage. Snape never gave points to Gryffindor. It was like- a rule or something. And praising a mudblood? It was unheard of.
“Why are you all gasping? Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Nott, and detention with Filch tonight at eight.”
The Slytherins hissed in surprise. But Severus did not mind them. He was doing everything and anything to win back Harry’s favor. He just needed his master to look at him and tell him everything is all right.
“Professor? May I speak to you for a moment in the storage room?” asked a familiar voice in the midst of a silent room.
“Yes, Sir,” said Snape dejectedly, not even realizing his slip- up.
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“What’s going on, Severus? What’s wrong?”
Severus took a deep breath and started speaking hurriedly in short, choppy sentences.
“Nothing is wrong, Master. Everything is fine. I’ll take away the rest of Weasley’s detention. Thirty points to Gryffindor. Please don’t be mad.”
“Little one, what’s got you all riled up?” asked Harry, caressing Severus’s face softly as the potions master’s little gasping continued.
“You are angry with me. Please don’t be angry with me. I’ll do anything. I give one hundred points to Gryffindor. Just please tell me what I did wrong. Master, please, I only want to fix it.”
“Nothing is wrong, Severus. Why would you think something was?”
“You did not look at me all class, Sir,” said Severus in a small voice.
“I was busy, Love. You know I am not naturally talented with potions. I have to really work if I want it to be decent at it and this one was challenging for me. I didn’t look away for fear that I would miss something and everything would go pear shaped and I would disappoint you again. You’re so good at potions and well, I’m just pants at it.”
“Oh, Master. I do not mind that your skills in potions are not excellent. They are adequate and will get better with practice. Maybe we can do some private sessions.”
“Hm, I like the idea of some private sessions. You. Me. An empty classroom with no one to interrupt us. We haven’t touched that much in the last few days, I was so tired, but tonight maybe I can be the teacher for once, and you can play the nervous student, asking for extra credit.”
“I didn’t mean those kinds of sessions, Master,” said Severus, blushing deeply.
“But you’re not opposed either?”
“I…”
“Tonight at eight then, Pet.”
And Harry walked out, back into the classroom.