My Yuletide offering

[sua_lay]

Title: And a crup to take us home
Author: Rimau
Rating: PG-13, stand alone
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, McGonagall/Dumbledore
Date: Yuletide 2006
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary: Celebrating the end of the war.

Since I've complained about angst and drama in Potter, I was challenged to write something light. Have no idea if this counts, but at least it's silly.

Extra thanks to wolfsbride for the beta as always. Also, dlasta spotted a Huge Big OOC thing, for which I'm eternally grateful. :D

---

And a Crup to Take us Home

by: Rimau

---

"My dear, dear people! I would like to say a few words in honor of all of you who fought against Voldemort!"

The Great Hall echoed with cheers at that, everyone turning to stare at the Head Table, where the Headmaster had just got to his feet with a goblet raised high. For a moment the sound of voices mixing with the last notes of the song the band had been playing was almost deafening, and then the vast room quieted down, people waiting breathlessly for Albus Dumbledore's words of wisdom.

"There he goes again!" Muttering the words under her breath, Minerva McGonagall fought against the urge to roll her eyes. If they were in the teacher's lounge with Albus launching into yet another winding speech, she would have tossed dignity out of the window and shown her impatience, probably a half step behind Severus.

She took a gulp of her Gillywater and suppressed a sigh. The battles had been bad enough; celebrating the victory was pure hell.

At least Fudge wasn't talking anymore.

An amused voice rang from her right side, "Yes, he does love his own voice."

Minerva almost snorted the Gillywater out. "Severus! What an awful thing to say!" She couldn't help chastising him for his comment even though she'd been thinking the same thing herself. That was the legacy of her work. "He also loves to impress us all with his wit." And that was the Gillywater speaking.

She wondered if it was too early to change to the Firewhiskey.

"True." With a graceful nod of his head, Severus Snape added, "But he deserves to enjoy his moment of glory. While it lasts."

Suspicious of the very evil glint in his eyes that completely negated his tone of voice, Minerva turned back to look at Albus. Her oldest friend was holding up his cup, recounting yet another war story that was making half the people in the Great Hall laugh and one Harry Potter look like he wished he could disapparate right about now.

It was actually endearing, the hero of their world blushing like a first year Hufflepuff caught sneaking into the girl's showers. Fortunately this was a private celebration, with no one from the Daily Prophet present, or poor Harry's flustered face would be decorating the front page tomorrow.

"What do you mean?" She hated asking, especially when Severus got that innocent look on his face, but she was certain he wasn't talking about the war.

The boy had been a sneaky and awfully smug student, and he hadn't improved when he'd become her colleague, his sense of humor only getting more warped during the years. Of course as a student he'd never been subjected to the teacher's weekly meetings, so she couldn't really blame him for enjoying weird things. Enduring Death Eater orgies and fighting battles were nothing compared to what you saw once you joined Hogwarts staff.

Snape raised an eyebrow, trying to convey shock, but even he couldn't maintain his usual control for long. The past few months had been hell, but they had changed people, some more than others.

"Out with it, young man!" Minerva said primly, and then flashed a very happy grin at Severus' glare. "Don't play games with me, Severus. You'll lose. Every time."

Well, almost every time, and even when he won, Minerva just knew he'd cheated somehow. He couldn't help it, he was a Slytherin after all.

"That almost sounds as a dare."

Bastard. Minerva shook her head, knowing exactly how this would end. "Stop stalling." It was almost a script they had followed for years now, ever since Severus had become the Head of Slytherin House. They both hated each other with fervor and no matter how that hatred might have mellowed into a friendly game ages ago, neither would ever admit that out loud. It was a matter of House pride.

"I wouldn't dream of stalling, professor McGonagall!" The overly sweet words came with a wide eyed look Snape had perfected during his school years.

Instead of telling him that his feigned innocence had never worked and never would, Minerva simply sat and waited.

"Oh all right. Did you see Hagrid pour him a drink earlier? I noticed he's been returning to that flask, and believe me, it's not pumpkin juice." Snape made a discreet gesture at Dumbledore.

Minerva blinked.

"I bet he it will take him... an hour and a half to get to the state where he'll dance on the table."

That was such a clear challenge Minerva couldn't ignore it. "I don't know... This is a formal celebration, and there are students present..."

Snape tilted his head to the side. "Sixth years and above only, Minerva. An hour and a half." He knew that by then, most of the teenagers would be too exhausted -- and inebriated -- to really pay attention on anything, even the Headmaster dancing on the table. He also knew exactly what was in Hagrid's flask. "I bet you anything, he'll dance on the table in ninety minutes."

It was almost too easy. Minerva shook her head in amazement, wondering if Severus had been sampling Hagrid's brew as well. No, the boy was too uptight to drink in front of the students, unlike some here. "Fine. I accept your bet."

The alarm flickering in Snape's eyes for just a moment showed that he'd realized the error of his words as well. Minerva half expected him to try to wheedle his way out of the whole thing, but he simply pursed his thin lips together, making him look even angrier than usual.

"I bet it won't even take one hour. And that he won't just dance on the table, he'll sing as well."

Now there was interest in Snape's eyes as well as faint amusement. "You seem quite certain of yourself."

Minerva simply smiled. "I am." She knew Albus better than anyone. It wouldn't probably take even forty five minutes for the old goat to climb on the table. "I am indeed. So what are your terms?"

It would have to be something outrageous. The last games of the year usually were. Maybe if Harry had defeated Voldemort right at the beginning of his seventh year, they would have settled to some token show of victory, but since even the Quidditch season was over, this was the last chance either had to really take the points from the other House.

"If it'll take him over an hour to dance on the table, and if he won't sing...." Snape added the last bit quickly, "You will move the portrait of Salazar Slytherin from the fourth floor corridor to hang right next to the Fat Lady. And you can't move the Fat Lady away from her current place."

That made Minerva grimace. She hated that painting, and having it hang right outside the Gryffindor common room would be totally unacceptable. "Deal!" If Severus thought it was that easy to scare her, he really didn't know her at all. "And if it takes him less than an hour to dance on the table and sing..."

She paused for the dramatics, even though she already knew what she'd ask. This was too good an occasion; she'd been waiting for something like this for years. There were indeed better things than making Snape wave a golden-red flag during a Quidditch match -- Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, Minerva wasn't suicidal after all -- or telling him to sit next to Sprout in a staff meeting. She had him at her mercy, in public, and she was going to enjoy every minute of this.

"Yes?" Making an impatient gesture, Snape prompted her to go on.

"If I win, you will dance with me."

Snape's eyes widened. For just a moment, he couldn't hide his complete shock, and that moment alone was worth anything.

Smiling sweetly, Minerva took another sip of her Gillywater, knowing that there was no way in hell Severus was ever going to go back on the bet, no matter how he would want to.

---

Seven minutes later, the Headmaster finally sat down again. He was smiling like a loon as he poured himself another drink, exchanging happy glances with Hagrid.

Snape glared.

More of the tables were pushed to the side as the band continued to play. The Hufflepuffs were the first ones to rush to the dance floor, most couples wrapping around each other without a big fuss. There were also dozens of girls and a few boys flocking towards the Gryffindor table, all targeting a certain hero who looked like a mouse that had just spotted an owl.

Snape's glare turned even darker.

It seemed that Ron Weasley was more than happy to dance with anyone who was turned down by his best friend. That meant everyone who asked. It was clear that the great hero of their world was perfectly happy just sitting there.

When the chorus played again, Dumbledore started to tap his spoon against the table.

---

"And then I said to him, I'd rather marry a vampire than someone like you!" Sprout declared, giggling so hard her hat fell on the floor.

Minerva smiled politely at the story she'd only heard about five hundred times before. "That was a smart move, dear." By now, she knew exactly when there'd be a pause in the narration.

On the other side of the table, Albus Dumbledore was talking to Filch, who was holding Mrs. Norris in his arms as if he was afraid she'd disappear any moment now. Dumbledore's expression was solemn, his eyes twinkling gently.

The band was now playing a slow, almost melancholy tune, and more teenagers were now wrapped around each other, swaying slowly.

Minerva's smile faltered slightly.

There were still thirty-two minutes left.

---

Sighing, Minerva leaned back on her chair and watched the young people celebrate life.

She'd been with them every step of the way, unlike Fudge and his aurors, unlike most of their world. It had been a surprise to her as well, the need to stop hiding behind excuses and be there to fight. So many people had stood back and waited for Harry Potter to kill Voldemort; expeting a seventeen year old to deal with all their problems. Minerva had hated the thought, as had most of the Hogwarts staff.

Now they were all here, celebrating their victory together, like they had mourned all their losses together. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Merlin! Even an amazingly large number of Slytherins all weary from all the fighting but still eager to share this one moment of complete happiness. They were all heroes, no matter what the papers said.

That made her turn to look at the Gryffindor table, her eyes seeking the familiar form of Harry Potter. Unlike his friends, he wasn't dancing, but seemed satisfied to just sit there with a glass of something clear, probably water, in front of him.

Minerva saw him watch people on the dance floor with a self-mocking smile appearing on his lips. She had no idea why.

So strange, their greatest hero not finding any joy in his victory. She remembered the last battle, the grim satisfaction on Harry's face and the way he had leaned on Severus on their way back to Hogwarts. It had been a moment when old rivalries had vanished, but it had not lasted beyond that moment.

Maybe she should go and talk to the boy.

It was quite clear by now, that she would indeed lose the bet, but thinking about that last battle made her think it didn't really matter.

"Ready to tell the house elves to carry Salazar's painting to its new home?" The smirk echoed in the smug words as well. Snape was looking at her with his glass raised in a mock toast.

Bastard!

This meant war, and even if she lost this bet, there'd be others. She'd be damned if she let Severus get away with that attitude. She hadn't tolerated it in her classroom decades ago, and wouldn't tolerate it here.

Minerva smiled coldly. "We shall see."

---

The sand was dribbling slowly down the glass bowl. Down below an identical bowl was catching every grain, measuring the time as precisely as any mechanical clock.

"And one more crup, then just one more crup and a crup to take us home..."

It had been Hagrid's choice, and most of the children had joined the song with fervor. Some of the Hufflepuffs had ended up sitting at the Slytherin tables, where they were now trying to get their new friends to sing as well.

"Then we say crup! And we say crup! With a crup and crup and crup!"

Even though Minerva refused to sing the song -- unless she was hip deep in a barrel, that is -- her lips formed the familiar words. The old ones were always the best, and even the muggleborn students knew this by heart.

"And wag your tail! And wag your tail! Wag that tail for us, crup!"

Ron Weasley was staggering with his arm around Blaise Zabini's shoulders. Both looked like they were having way too much fun.

Minerva couldn't blame them. Everyone in the Great Hall was singing and swaying and probably at least slightly tipsy. She knew she should disapprove the drinking, but right now, she simply didn't have the energy for that.

"Then the crup said woof and the crup said woof and the crup he wagged his tail and woofed!"

The words made Minerva glance at her Gryffindors. Seeing that Harry was singing along with just a hint of wistfulness in his eyes made her sigh.

There really was no way to hide from these past few years and their sorrows. But this one night they were entitled to try.

---

"Two more minutes." Snape leaned closer to Minerva, enjoying the way her eyes couldn't hide her annoyance. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Bite your tongue, Severus."

Minerva had other things she wanted to say, but refused to stoop so low. Especially when there was an audience. She'd save those words for later.

The band was playing again, and the mood was nice and mellow. She cast a few sideways looks at Dumbledore, who was leaning back on his chair, smiling a benign smile that was grating on her nerves.

"What a thing to say, Minerva!" Satisfaction almost oozed from Snape. He turned his eyes to the hourglass on the table. "One minute."

For a moment, Minerva fantasized of getting a time-turner and going back an hour, just to make sure she never accepted the bet. Or maybe to get Albus drunk. It wouldn't be the first time she managed to get him so drunk he couldn't remember the password to his quarters and had to spend the night somewhere else.

Sighing, she shook her head. It would be cheating, and she never cheated while playing these games. Not because it was immoral, but it did steal her right to gloat at Severus when she caught him contemplating a move that wasn't exactly legitimate.

"All right, Severus." The grains of sand were disappearing fast. "You..."

"Let's do the crup song again!"

As in slow motion, both Minerva and Snape turned to look at the Headmaster as they heard his voice, eyes wide as they took in the sight before them. Scrambling on the chair and from that to the table, Dumbledore was grinning like a loon, holding his robes so that he didn't fall flat on his face.

"Oh no..."

Minerva ignored Severus' groan, a smile forming on her lips as Albus waved with his hand and the whole Hall burst into a song. Some even followed the man's example and stepped to the tables.

Singing and dancing to the crup song.

The last grain of sand disappeared from the bowl and a small bell chimed to mark the passing of exactly one hour.

"I believe you have earned one dance," Snape said quietly.

At least the boy wasn't a sore loser. Not right now anyway. Minerva was certain she would not get away with winning this easily. Severus would think of something evil. She just hoped it would have nothing to do with catnip this time.

"Well, yes, Severus. I believe I have." But not to the crup song. Minerva couldn't think of a worse thing. "When they stop singing, would you please go and request us something more appropriate?"

They both knew it wasn't exactly a question.

---

Everyone was left with warm fuzzies as the crup song ended, even though some of the students were more than willing to start over again.

The happy and mellow atmosphere lasted for exactly five seconds. Then a worried silence fell over the whole room as Severus Snape rose to his feet and walked around the Head Table towards the band.

"What the hell is that git up to now?" Ron Weasley asked, not bothering to even lower his voice.

Blaise Zabini had to squint his eyes to get them to focus on the Head of his House. He should have known better than to drink with a Weasley. "I dunno," he slurred. "Maybe he wants them to play something more dignified." Not that he didn't like the crup song! He just couldn't even imagine Snape ever singing along.

"Bloody uptight Slytherin... No offense meant!"

"None taken, Ron!" Grinning, Blaise simply leaned harder on his friend.

Snape had finished his short discussion with the band, turning to scowl at everyone.

"Too bad." Ron was still mourning for his favourite song. "I love the crup song! And one more crup! Hmmm de hmm mmm hmmm!" he hummed the melody off key.

Without words, Snape walked back to the Head Table, stopping right next to professor McGonagall, who was looking smug. He on the other hand didn't seem at all pleased.

Albus Dumbledore was staring at the two with a frown on his face.

"Would you grant me this dance, Minerva?" Holding out his hand, Snape kept his eyes on his colleague, knowing she'd expect him to ask.

Minerva stood up slowly, enjoying the sound of total dismay echoing in the Hall as both Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at her and muttered comments. "I would be delighted to, Severus." She even lowered her gaze demurely as she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

"What the hell?" Ron squeaked. "He can't do that! She's a Gryffindor!"

Next to him, Blaise was nodding sagely. "I believe the world will end after all. Gryffindors and Slytherins together? Just ain't right!" His elbow slipped and he ended up leaning against Ron again.

Ron ignored the way Hermione was clearly laughing at him and kept grimacing. "And can Snape even dance? Can you imagine? Snape dancing? Snape?" He took a sip from his mug. "I can so see that now. 'Put your hand on my waist, Severus'," he mimicked McGonagall's stern instructions. "Ew!"

"I don't think..." Harry started and then dropped whatever he was saying in order to choke. The band had struck the first dramatic chords of a tango.

Still concentrating on grimacing at the sight of Snape's hand on McGonagall's waist, Ron actually missed the chance to gawk at the whole tango thing. That didn't mean he wasn't gawking. Snape's hands moving from McGonagall's waist to her hands to his waist to... Whoa, it was kind of making him dizzy.

He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, it was worse. They were moving now, and he could clearly see that Snape didn't need any instructions. For a disgusting creep he could actually dance.

"Blimey!"

He was definitely not the only one staring with his mouth open.

Snape's movements were almost negligent, his expression as haughty as ever as he held Minerva McGonagall. There was an aura of arrogance in him, something dark and dangerous, and it was awfully hard to stop watching him.

There was the dark glare, aimed at McGonagall, but the burning anger didn't seem out of place, didn't exactly look like just anger anymore. McGonagall wasn't much better, smiling a smug little smile that showed everyone just how pleased she was with all this.

"That is so..." Ron didn't think the word disgusting was strong enough. Old people like McGonagall and slimy bastards like Snape shouldn't do this in front of everyone. "That's like totally..."

"Hot." It came out as a reverent whisper.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at each other, grinning a bit sheepishly at the shared sentiment. The other Gryffindors just stared at them, most making quiet 'eww!' sounds.

"You are both drooling after McGonagall, right? Because that is weird but cool. Unlike... Ew!" Ron shuddered at the mere thought. "But yeah! McGonagall! Feel free to drool, Hermione! Girl power and all that!"

On the dance floor, Snape dipped McGonagall a little, staring into her eyes and leaning down just the fraction, as if to maybe whisper something into her ear. It brought forth a few sighs and gasps, followed by yet another heartfelt "Ew!" from Ron.

Minerva laughed as Snape tilted her up again, exhilarated by the music and their perfectly coordinated movements. Most of her colleagues weren't really adept in the art of dancing, settling for swaying slowly to whatever romantic ballad the band might play and watching as the children moved on the dance floor trying to look like they weren't counting all the steps in their heads.

This was far from the fumbling steps she was used to as she taught youngsters; no aching toes from where polished black shoes stepped on her feet, no sweating hands on her person, no blushing.

Snape was a virtuoso with this as well, his perfectionism driving him to master all the crafts he chose to dabble with. She didn't have to think about the steps she took or the rhythm, she simply followed his lead, almost soaring.

The hand on her back moved again, just a little hint of another dip, and this time her laughter could be heard over the music. For a cheeky young bastard, Severus really was a good boy when he put his mind to it.

"You," Snape muttered as he leaned closer again, his lips almost brushing her ear, "Are a true Gryffindor."

She grinned, knowing exactly the way he expected her to interpret the comment and took it as a compliment anyway. "I know."

It was probable poor Sprout was choking on her drink at the background.

Minerva didn't care. This was a happy occasion, the happiest in what seemed years, and she was going to enjoy her dance. It was good to watch Severus enjoy it too, the gleam in his black eyes the only clear sign of his true feelings.

They had seen the very beginning of the war and were now celebrating the end, the Head of Gryffindor and the Head of Slytherin moving with sure steps across the room, swaying to the music as if they had done this hundreds of times before.

She would have to goad Severus into doing this again.

"Excuse me."

Snape felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked too see Albus Dumbledore stand there with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Yes?" He knew exactly what the old fool wanted, but wasn't going to just walk away without a few words. Not with all the students watching.

"May I cut in?" Dumbledore's voice made it a command and not a question.

"Of course." Still holding Minerva, Snape leaned closer to the woman and muttered, "Please make his life a living hell."

Minerva McGonagall smirked and then planted a soft kiss on Snape's cheek. No matter how annoying the boy had always been, she liked him anyway. "I will, Severus. I will."

With a bow, he stepped back and allowed Albus to take his place. He didn't fail to notice how Albus' grip on Minerva was certainly more proprietary and intimate than his had been.

Snape sneered at the two dancing people, fighting against the urge to tug his frock coat. Standing in the middle of a dance floor when someone had just stolen your partner had never been enjoyable, not when it had been James Potter and his goons and not when it was the revered Headmaster himself.

As he stood there, wondering whether he should go back to his seat or simply walk out and head to his dungeons, a wave of shocked murmur echoed in the hall as a thin young man stood up at the Gryffindor table and then marched with determination to the dance floor.

No matter how many people had asked, Harry Potter had declined every invitation to a dance. Now he was making his way between the tables, gaze fixed on Snape.

Hearing the murmur was warning enough. Snape turned to glare at Harry, hoping against hope that the idiot wasn't even contemplating on... Well, of course he was! It was the same Harry Potter who had insisted on working together and fighting together, harbouring strange notions of intimacies and not respecting personal barriers at all.

The same Harry Potter who had leaned on him as they stumbled back to Hogwarts after Voldemort's death, the annoying fool who had followed him down into the dungeons and into his bed and had refused to leave.

"Snape."

An angry look would be futile, but Snape cast one at Harry anyway. "What do you want, Potter?"

The music ended with a crescendo, and the band started a slow waltz, most likely just to piss him off. Minerva and Albus continued dancing, still the only couple on the dance floor.

"Dance with me." Harry held out his hand, not minding the shocked murmurs his actions brought forth.

Snape snorted.

Instead of driving Harry away, the very familiar sound just made him smile.

"I have seen you dance." If that could be called dancing, idiots jumping around like toads on Pepperup Potion. "Maybe you should pick someone else."

There was a clear warning in his voice, saying all the things he couldn't put into words. Harry was a complete fool doing this here and now. Their great hero should be enjoying his fame instead of holding onto a daydream, associating himself with a tired old man.

"I don't want anyone else," Harry said calmly, his gaze gentle and so green even behind the glasses.

Snape didn't want to see that look in his eyes, the very familiar happiness shining there, like it had when Harry had kissed him and told him impossibly Gryffindor things like fondness and caring and even love.

"Dance with me," Harry repeated. "Please. Dance with me here or take me to your dungeons and we will dance there."

It was pretty clear he didn't mean tango or waltz when he said that.

"Don't run away from me again."

Snape glared. "I never ran away from you," he said, but there was no real scorn in his voice. True, he'd never run away from Harry Potter. It had been more like a hurried walk.

He couldn't understand why Harry insisted on making a scene, why he would stand here and let people see him ask the Potions master to dance, never mind actually dancing with him.

Trying not to pay attention to the stares from all around him, Snape concentrated on the stubborn look now glinting in Harry's eyes. He knew the expression well.

Fighting was completely useless. He had lost the whole war when he'd touched Harry the first time, or maybe when he'd not pushed him away in horror after the first kiss. There was no knowing for certain, but Snape's mind provided him other moments when he should have acted differently, all somehow dealing with a very naked Harry Potter.

Snape looked Harry, seeing only desperate hope on his face, and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll lead."

"Of course." Harry was already wrapping his left arm around Snape's waist. "You can lead me anywhere."

Refusing to say anything about leading Harry to the lake and drowning him there alongside his dignity, Snape simply grabbed his hand and then led them into a slow swaying rhythm.

He did cast a brief look around the room, noticing the open shock on all his colleagues' faces and the pure horror on most of the former students. Young Zabini seemed to be holding Ronald Weasley up, muttering something to the redhead.

Minerva and Albus seemed to be the only two people not staring at him and Harry, both too busy whispering something to each other.

Ignoring everyone else, Snape conentrated on the young man in his arms. Dancing with Harry wasn't completely unpleasant, especially when he simply allowed him to lead instead of trying to trip them both over.

The strong body against him was familiar, the touch of Harry's hand on his shoulder light but firm.

As they took slow, measured steps around the dance floor, there were others moving to join them as well, couples holding each other in what could only be called as embrace, all keeping their distance and leaving Snape and Harry room to dance in peace.

He could only wonder what it looked like when the song ended and Harry refused to let go of him. Not bothering to even say something scathing, he simply adjusted his grip to better follow the new melody and kept swaying against Harry.

Maybe losing to Minerva wasn't that bad after all.

Music changed from the older tunes to something more contemporary, staying slow, the lyrics echoing romantic. Snape scoffed at such sugary words, feeling Harry shake against him with laughter at his reaction. A moment later Harry's hands snaked around him, holding him close and resting his palms a bit below his waist.

"You do realize you're grasping my arse in front of everyone." Snape didn't even phrase that as a question.

The only answer he got was a slight squeeze.

Sighing, Snape closed his eyes.

He didn't even realize they had started that idiotic jingle again. He concentrated only on Harry's lips that were moving against his neck and forming words to the song.

It was clear that the evening would end in a disaster with Harry crawling into his bed again, and unfortunately he couldn't see the future being any brighter. There would undoubtedly be more silly Gryffindor declarations, followed by even sillier gestures, then Harry moving in with him, completely destroying his peace. The worst part was, he didn't really even try to think of a way to change that future.

Maybe it was time for him to just resign to his fate.

He tightened his hold on Harry, tilting his head a bit to the side. This couldn't even be called real dancing anymore, but it seemed to be what Harry expected of him. All around, people were singing and dancing and drinking, the world fading far away and leaving them to simply move in each other's arms.

Swaying slowly with Snape, Harry smiled, mumbling, "And a crup to take us home..."

Comments

[wolfsbride.livejournal.com]

OMG! Dancing Snape! Lol... That sounds like....

Come one! Come all! Come see the magnificent! The astounding! DANCING SNAPE!

:)

Also... My gods.. Ron amuses me no matter what he's doing.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Hmph! Snape would never allow himself to be shown off like a freak!

And poor Ron! He's not bad, he's just a brat!

[fancyspinner.livejournal.com]

Oh this was way to cute and lovely for the season. Thanks!

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Wonderful! :D

[sockich.livejournal.com]

Snape dancing the tango. *fans self* Why do I have the feeling I'll be watching this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G7A_bJFZNXE) a lot, today? *g*

It was clear that the evening would end in a disaster with Harry crawling into his bed again, and unfortunately he couldn't see the future being any brighter. There would undoubtedly be more silly Gryffindor declarations, followed by even sillier gestures, then Harry moving in with him, completely destroying his peace. The worst part was, he didn't really even try to think of a way to change that future.

I love this paragraph beyond words. ♥

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

:D Heh, you found what inspired me... That man is so damn hot!

And yes, Snape would probably think he's doomed. The thing is, he's probably right.

[dlasta.livejournal.com]

Yay! ;D

If only I could use my powers for good...
Don't think slash count's as good, per se.;P

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Of course slash is good, you idiot!

*hearts*

[dlasta.livejournal.com]

But, you know, is it doing good things globally??:D