Breeder

AN: I dug this up from my archives. Yay! Something new but suitably shitty!

I was feeling a bit crackish. Well, actually, I was cursing Severus Snape for being such a fucking BREEDER and eliminating a good half of the decent ships that are possible. He is so uncooperative.

Just a dorky little one shot because I have too much mind on my mind and sometimes it needs a little break. Which is what this little fic is.

I do not mean any offense to any heterosexuals out there. This is meant purely in jest and (on my part and Harry's) frustration. So, yeah. Sorry if the term "breeder" offends you.

No, I don't own characters, places, or any of the Harry Potter anything. Well, I own a t-shirt, but I'm no JK Rowling.

Anyway, I hope you find it as funny as I did writing it.

~Kiro

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"DAMN you for being such a FUCKING breeder!"

...

Silence.

...

"And why, pray tell, Potter, are you interrupting my class by yelling about 'breeders'?"

The eyes of twenty-some seventh- and eighth-year students bored into Harry Potter's skin. He shifted uneasily under their gaze, looking as if he just wanted to crawl under a potions station and die.

Harry hadn't meant to call out like that. He had been thinking on the subject of his affections and just... kind of... snapped. He had stood up from his seat and bellowed, in the middle of the potions theory lesson, about breeders. He slowly sat down and cowered in his seat.

"Sorry, sir. I just... I don't know what got a hold of me there. It won't happen again."

The class snickered and Professor Snape looked at him with cool regard. He was not impressed.

"Oh, no, Potter. Seeing as you saw fit to completely interrupt the lecture on the theory and uses of belladonna, it must be important enough to complete the sentiment. Do tell, who are you damning for being heterosexual and why?"

There were a couple of gasps and snickers from the usual gossip hounds. Apparently no one expected the potions master to know the slang meaning of breeder, but they all found his cruel behavior hilarious.

Harry looked down through his bangs at his feet. Taking a deep breath and dredging up his Gryffindor courage, he raised his gaze to his professor. He quietly and somewhat timidly answered the question, voice growing stronger as he went on.

"You, sir. You couldn't be any less stereotypically gay if you tried. You never act feminine, certainly, and you've got lithe muscles and a built frame, but not a bear-like appearance. You act totally cold all the time, completely unlike any emotional gay guy I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. You hate color, I'm not sure if you know the meaning of rainbow, and you were in love with my mother for gods' sakes!"

Snape blinked, then seemed to recover into a ready sneer.

"And why, pray tell, are you damning me for my supposed heterosexuality?"

Now here was where Harry's temper came back into play. It had faded into the background for a bit, ruled by his embarrassment, but now it resurfaced full force. It pulled with it lack of judgement and the urge to stun.

"Because I can never be with you! Not that I ever had any chance, but now I can't even watch you snog some bloke like the voyeur I so want to be! It's damn saddening, Snape!"

The potions professor blinked... once... twice... three times.

"Class dismissed. Everyone out, Potter stay behind."

There was an excited gasp as everyone turned and chatted, reluctantly making their way to the door. There was no explosion, no sudden and murderous insult spree from the professor. Snape never let out class early, never! Not to mention Harry Potter, THE Harry Boy-Who-Lived-Twice Potter, the chosen one and defeated of the Dark Lord, wanting to be with Severus greasy dungeon bat Snape. The gossip rags were SO going to love this.

Hermione and Ron eyed Harry cautiously and with sympathy, but he merely waved them off and waited for the classroom to empty. The students were currently lagging behind, hoping to catch some sort of exchange between the two men, but eventually they all made it out of the door.

The door closed with a thud and click of the lock. An additional silence spell and deterrence ward were added and the Potions Master turned to his student.

Harry nervously sat, deathly pale, watching as the man dramatically turned to him. He felt like he was waiting for something- deadly wounds? His balls to be hexed off? A good deafening rant? He didn't know what he was waiting for it, but he supposed he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when Snape spoke at a normal, calm volume.

"You of all people should be aware that the stereotype hardly ever fits the reality of a person, Potter. Or have all your years of fame not impressed that upon you?"

Harry blinked, confused.

"Excuse me?"

The potions master sighed, gliding closer to the teen.

"You shouldn't judge a person's sexual orientation based off of their outward affect, Potter. First of all, I act professional in a professional environment, such as the classes I teach. I could be the greatest flaming homosexual that anyone had ever seen in my free time, and you would never be the wiser."

Harry stared up, wide-eyed, as his professor approached. He must be dreaming. He must be, this was just too- too- insane.

"Second of all, I beg to differ on your judgement about my not being stereotypical. Did you know that I originally loved potions because it was so close in form and function to cooking? And that I spend exactly one hour a day on my appearance? Granted, that is only to make it look intimidating for the brats, but the premise still stands."

"Third, I do not wear colors and I act harsh to aid in my job. Do the students take any other professor as seriously as they do me? I think not. I command respect."

"Fourth, and I think this is the most important point, I did not, nor have I ever been even capable of, loving your mother in a romantic manner. She was a beautiful woman and a great friend, but that is all. In fact, I remember having quite the fascination with Lupin once upon a time. You should not judge people by appearances, Potter."

Harry stared at his potions professor incredulously.

"So.. you mean... you aren't a breeder after all?"

The man gave Harry a withering exasperated look.

"Never have I been, nor will I ever be, a 'breeder' as you so call it, Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked. He tried to keep a serious face, he really did, but his facial muscles were determined to disobey him. The following beam hurt his cheeks and appeared to severely unnerve his potions professor.

"So- I do have a chance? I mean, you wouldn't have mentioned this otherwise."

Severus sighed.

"Yes, Potter, I suppose you do have a chance, though I would appreciate it if you would keep from interrupting my classes in the future."

If possible, Harry's grin grew even broader.

"Well, then, Severus- if I can call you Severus- I suppose I should ask you if you would like to accompany me to the Three Broomsticks during the next Hogsmeade weekend."

Severus leaked a small, secretive smile.

"I think I would enjoy that."

He turned to stride to the door of his office, halting before it.

"Oh, and Harry?" He half-turned to look Harry in the eyes.

"Detention tonight for interrupting my class, as well as fifty points from Gryffindor for calling me a breeder."

And he disappeared into his office before Harry could say a thing.