Nobody ever asked my birthday

To have a word

Harry tried not to freeze after Pansy flounced out the door.

Snape's gaze was on him, and Harry, on some primordial level, knew that was trouble.

Instead, he took a deep breath, and met Snape's gaze.

"What's my sentence?" Harry cracked, trying for levity that didn't seem very appropriate.

"Potter," Snape barked, before pausing.

That levity was clearly inappropriate. Snape cast what seemed like a hundred spells around them.

"You will spend two days in the infirmary. Not a jot more or an iota less." Snape said, looking down his nose at Harry, who was still seated in the bed.

"Yes, sir." Harry said, because what else were you supposed to say to that? No, I'm going to run off and do something ridiculous? Worse, I'm planning on running off to do something ridiculous? That's a fine way to wind up hogtied to the bed!

"Good, there's ten points in it if you keep your word." Snape said.

Harry, inwardly, wanted to cheer. That meant that Snape hadn't really meant the points he'd taken off in DADA class, and was going to be putting them back... well, as you'd expect from a Slytherin. It also meant that he wasn't even allowed to tell Ron or Hermione that he was earning points back...

"I suggest you rethink your means for causing chaos. Perhaps by running them by some of your more quick-witted, or diligent friends." Snape said cuttingly. "This one, after all, could have had life-altering consequences, and not just for yourself."

Until that last bit, Harry had been willing to run past the entire lecture. He was the most quick-witted of his friends, and yes, he would try to ask Hermione, when he could.

But... Pansy Parkinson didn't deserve to get caught up in his ... chaos. That was actually a very apt term, too.

Harry found his voice, before he got too lost in thought, "I'm sorry sir," he said earnestly.

"I assign detentions; I have no need for your apologies." Snape said, though Harry could almost swear he saw a bit of good humor hiding in Snape's eyes. Maybe it was the delivery. "However, I can think of someone else who might accept your apology."

"Yes, sir." It was perhaps for the best that Snape left then, as Harry's thoughts descended into What kind of a creep am I, having nearly damned Pansy to a live of sexual servitude, just for the sake of a stupid prank? And there were pictures, lots and lots of pictures. Harry just felt more guilty with every one.

[a/n: Slave girl Leia style imagery.

Yes, I know, Harry's forgotten that Pansy wouldn't have stood for it. Snape wouldn't be grinding the guilt in so hard if he'd realized that someone'd already informed Potter of his impending murder.

Yes, Harry Potter feels less about a classmate intending to kill him, than he does about enslaving said classmate. Are you surprised?

Reviews mean more story, as always!

(to people who write stories: What do you do when there's a clearly... enthusiastic... review, that uses ... blue language? Do you delete or not? I am Torn.) ]