Disclaimer: I’m not JK Rowling although I wish that Severus was mine.
Summary: My version of a prison fic *VEG*
Notes: Thanks to Zetta and Larry, my unfortunate betas.
Feedback: Always welcome….
Warning: This contains hints of slash, so if you don't care for that kind of thing, I suggest you run out of the room screaming.  After you do that, then you can come back to the computer and hit the "Back" button and get away as quickly as possible. Flames will be dealt with in an extremely sarcastic manner.
This is my very first fic, and an answer to a challenge. Enjoy.

"Professor Snape, I don’t want to die a virgin!"

Severus Snape rolled his eyes in reply but kept pacing the cell they were locked in. If they couldn’t find a way out of Voldemort’s dungeon, Potter would have a lot more to worry about than his unfortunate chastity. "Keep quiet!" Snape hissed, "the last thing you want to do is draw it to their attention that they have a 16-year-old –"

"17-year-old!" Harry interrupted, "and I –"

"Potter, don’t interrupt me. I can still take points off of Gryffindor when we get back and I won’t have a problem –"

"IF we get back!" Harry retorted.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape continued, "One more outburst, Potter, and it will be fifty." Snape paused, only resuming after he was certain that Potter was properly subdued. "Now as I was saying, if our captors notice that you are still as pure as the driven snow –" Snape frowned at Harry’s pained expression but decided not to comment. "If they find that you are still a virgin - ," Harry let out what can only be described as a squeak but Snape continued uninterrupted, "as you well know, virgin blood is quite valuable on the black market…and it’s even more valuable if the virgin blood is *male* virgin blood because of its rarity. Dead useful for impotency potions, you see. Those potions go for a lot of money, lots of demand. Plenty of wizards will pay top galleon to keep their um, partners, happy - " Harry let out a whimper, "Oh, for Merlin’s sake Potter, stop simpering like a baby!"

"That’s easy for you to say. At least *you’ve* had sex!" Harry cried.

"My, how crude even if you are correct, Potter. You really are wearing on my nerves, though. Let me remind you that it’s your blundering that landed us here in the first place." Snape said pointedly.

"Professor, I’ve *only* been preparing for this since my first year. I’ve been trained in the most complicated spells, hexes, shields and curses that Hogwarts can offer. So much, that I could probably recite them whilst unconscious. AND, I’ve kept myself physically fit because of this eventuality, well, and because of quidditch of course. I’m just not a seer, there was NO way I could have predicted what was going to happen." Harry tried to reason.

"Potter, when it came down to the duel between you and Voldemort, did you not stop to think or consider that he was the Dark Lord for a reason?"

"Of course I did! I’ve only been his target my entire life." Harry retorted.

"Well, that makes it even more ludicrous, doesn’t it?" glared Snape. "Potter, I know that you’re young, but when you threw that Avada Kedavra curse, did it not occur to you that Voldemort would simply duck?"

Harry blushed, "Well, I think I may have been a bit surprised that it worked to begin with. I’ve never used that curse before."

"Well, there is that. But even then, you could have recovered from that hesitation if you hadn’t tripped over your own feet when Voldemort threw that Stupefy curse." Snape pointed out.

"I did NOT trip over my own feet. There was a crack on the pavement and…"

"If you keep saying that you may begin to believe it someday, Potter. But let me say for the record that we were nowhere near any pavements of any type. We were outside. In the Dark Forest. In a clearing. On nothing but soil and grass." Snape said with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Well, there must have been a hole in the ground or something." Harry mumbled.

Snape snorted.

"Or it could have been a jelly-legs curse!" Harry added hopefully.

"Right, the most powerful Death Eaters in the world, and the curse they would throw at you is one most wizards and witches learn at pre-wizgarden." Snape smirked.

"Well, it is a good curse." Harry said defensively.

Snape shook his head as if to wake himself up. "Moving on. I won’t EVEN go into how you managed to drag ME into this mess!" Snape glowered.

Harry looked down at his feet and started shuffling imaginary stones on the floor with the toe of his shoe, "Well, granted, I may have been a bit indiscreet."

Snape stared.

Harry blushed again, "Well, I’ve just been under a lot of pressure lately. What with the quidditch match against Slytherin, having to study for NEWTS, preparing to defeat the Lord of Infinite Evil…"

"Potter, I’ve always suspected that the lights were on but Mr. Brain has long since left, but even you can’t deny that this was probably THE stupidest thing that you have ever done. In the book of Stupidest Things Ever Done, you are probably featured in at LEAST half the chapters. I only wish that Minerva were here. I can’t wait to tell her that her star Gryffindor…"

"Do we really need to bring McGonagall into this?" Harry winced, thinking of his humorless Head of House. "If we get out of here, can’t we just call it even? You’ve always been pretty rotten to me, and what I did admittedly was not one of the brighter things I’ve done…but we’re pretty even now, don’t you think? Can’t we just be quits after this?"

"Potter, you MUST be joking. It would go against All Things Slytherin if I were to let this opportunity go without some amount of sneering and sarcasm. Of course, Minerva being a Gryffindor, sarcasm would probably go over her head. It’s a common trait among you Gryffindors: Plenty of courage, but not enough common sense among the lot of you to fit in a plastic cup. Well there’s nothing for it." Snape paused as if struck with an idea, then thoughtfully, "You know, to this day, I’m still amazed that I was made redundant at the Wiz-Card Greeting Company. I was very good at making up sentiments and the such, you know."

"YOU worked at making up greeting cards?" Harry gaped.

"Gryffindor lack of common sense…demonstrated." Parried Snape.

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. But since you made a point of talking about the past, let me pick apart how your ‘indiscretion’ undermined nearly three years of hard work on my part. So, getting back to the Duel. After getting hit with the *alleged* jelly-legs curse," Snape snorted unbelieving, "falling down, and being hit with a Stupefy curse and finally the Petrificus Totalus curse, Voldemort got Crabbe to search your robes. Once disarming you, taking your wand, a few dung-bombs, and a VERY old never-before-opened box of condoms," Snape chortled, but continued, "you happened to have a Note To Self on your person as well."

"That pack of condoms wasn’t THAT old." Harry claimed, feebly.

"Potter, ‘very old’ is a rather optimistic term, isn’t it? That package could pose a challenge to muggle archaeologists who use carbon dating." Snape sneered.

"I just wanted to be responsible if an opportunity came along…"

"Yes, rather hopeful and pointless on your part, wasn’t it? Anyway, it’s the Note to Self that I wanted to discuss."

Harry looked down, avoiding eye contact, "Well, I needed it. I have so much on my plate that sometimes I forget things."

"Well, that note got us shoved in this uncomfortable cell…"

"What do you mean *uncomfortable*? This is just like your Potions Lab back at Hogwarts!" exclaimed Harry, incredulously.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," growled Snape, "Now as I was saying, as they shoved us both in this *uncomfortable* cell, they threw your list in here just to torment me. Do you want to know what it says?" Snape asked.

Silence, except for a single chirping cricket in the background.

"It SAYS," Snape announced, pulling a small piece of parchment from his pocket with a flourish, "and I quote: ‘Note to Self’. Number one. Talk to Professor Sprout about Herbology extra credit. Number two. Meet Justin after class behind greenhouse." Snape interrupted his reading to jeer, "Oh dear Potter, taking advantage of a poor Hufflepuff!" Snape guffawed upon seeing Harry squirm, "Right then, back to the list…number three. Duel with Voldemort and try to escape Death Most Heinous. Number four. Don’t acknowledge Professor Snape since he is working undercover and sabotaging all Death Eater plans. Number five. Buy some Clearasil and Noxzema for spots. Number six. Give Uncle Vernon’s old pair of socks to Dobby. Number seven. Meet Draco in Astronomy Tower at midnight."

More silence. Snape ceremoniously refolded and replaced the parchment in his pocket, glaring at Harry all the while. Harry suddenly found the wall very interesting, not meeting Snape’s eyes.

"Now listen here, Potter," Snape snarled, shaking a balled up fist, "I’ve put up with a lot from you over the years. I’ve been insulted, I’ve unfairly been put under suspicion, and I've had to put up with grading your pitiful potions essays. But this is the final straw. This is something that I cannot abide."

Harry bit his lip helplessly, "Professor, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all of this, but there’s only so many times I can apologize."

"Potter, my ex-peers in the Death Eater Support Group knew the one thing that would make me snap. They have very long memories, Potter. Very long. Damn them all for being Slytherins. I’ll never forgive you for this Potter. Never!"

"I think you look rather nice…" Harry offered, blushing.

"Potter, my parents would turn over in their graves if they saw me like this. Albus Dumbledore himself would never dream of seeing me like this, even for Halloween. None of my ex-lovers could ever convince me to wear something like this. But because of your damned Gryffindor fumbling…"

"Professor, I –"

"FIFTY MORE POINTS, POTTER!" Snape bellowed. "I’ve been reduced to wearing – dragonhide leather. Oh, Voldemort had a good laugh. Said he had these trousers specially made from the Master and Wizard boutique in Knockturn Alley. Not to mention this see-through net shirt I have to wear. Potter, I dearly hope that one day you shall suffer the indignity of Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail ogling your backside."

"Professor, at least it’s black. And it does look…well, pretty good on you," said Harry, the heat rushing up to his face, and other places as well. "Like one of those muggle rock stars," he added quickly when Snape gave him a withering look. "And the smudged eyeliner really does bring out the…well, *black* color of your eyes."

Snape sighed, "Well, maybe I should be grateful that I was able to make that Draught of Living Death for Voldemort, otherwise he could have made me wear a red vinyl catsuit and stiletto boots." Snape prowled about the cell, patience wearing thin, "Why Sirius Black insists on wearing these…damned uncomfortable, I daresay."

"Um –" Harry fidgeted, wringing his hands and toying with his cuffs, trying not to picture a very sexy Severus in vinyl.

"Potter," Snape stopped pacing, eyes narrowing at Harry’s cuffs, suddenly tense, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"What. Is. That. On. Your. Wrist?" Snape pointed, teeth grinding.

"Oh, it’s…it’s a bracelet. Professor D-Dumbledore g-gave it to me…s-sir." Harry stuttered, suddenly nervous.

"Potter," Snape questioned slowly, his silky voice treacherous. "Is that bracelet made of *wood*?"

"Ah - yes it is. Professor Dumbledore said I should wear it everywhere I go. I reckon it’s a good luck charm. He said it could be very useful to me. It didn’t help me with my Transfiguration exam, though." Harry answered, eyeing Snape warily.

Snape gaped, staggered, before exploding, "Potter! Of all the moronic things…arggh! That’s a *wand*, you half-wit! We could have been out of here AGES ago!"

"It is?" asked Harry, inspecting the wooden band.

"YES! Now point your finger, no the other one…no, dammit the hand that you’re wearing the wand on…yes that one. Point it at the bars and do the alohomora spell. Quickly!" Snape urged, exasperated.

Harry pointed his index finger at the bars and declared, "Alohomora!". The door sprang open. Harry dashed to the door and was about to run out when Snape’s hands seized his waist. He found himself pulled back from the door and up against the other man’s body. *Oh* that’s nice. Was Snape actually *rubbing* against him?

"For the Gods’ sake, Harry. Use your head!" Snape hissed in Harry's ear, his breath ghosting down the back of Harry’s neck, making Harry tremble. Checking the hallway to make sure it was empty and taking the lead, Snape whispered, "Now Potter, let’s go…quietly." He left the cell and made his way quickly down the hallway leaving Harry to follow.

Harry ran after him, still reeling from the sensation of Snape’s breath on the back of his neck and being pressed up against Snape’s rather firm body. ‘He called me Harry, not Potter’ he thought eyeing the Potions Master from behind, ‘Those dragonhide pants do look *very* good on Snape’.

A grin spread across Harry’s face as he started thinking that the rest of the school year was going to be very interesting. Very interesting indeed.