AN: So... I like this, actually. It's a bit too short, but the idea of the spell hit me one day at the chiropractor (as most of my story ideas do) and I just love the concept of such a spell. I absolutely had to write it.

This was actually written a while ago, but, if you've noticed, since summer hit I have been combing through my old half-finished drafts and finishing then posting them. This is another one of those.

I am sorry that the name of the spell is so odd. I honestly could not think of another name. I was hoping that there was some sort of myth about something like this, but unfortunately my cursory Google search was rather lacking. If you know of such a myth, please let me know.

No I do not own any of the Harry Potter settings or characters. I am not JK Rowling, I did not pass go, I did not collect several hundred million dollars.

Please, sit back and enjoy the read!

~Kiro

"Turn your books to page 369. As you could see, if any of you were to use your eyes, today we shall be practicing use of the Eris's Eros spell."

Groans filled the DADA classroom as Snape paced the front by the blackboard. No one was enthused to be having class on a Friday, especially as it was also Valentine's Day. Most of the classes had been love themed and it seemed that even Snape's class would be no different.

Snape had changed after the war. No one knew if it was because he finally received a permanent position as DADA professor, if he had lightened up since he no longer had to act the part of loyal Death Eater, or if his near-death experience at the fangs of Nagini had addled his brains. It really didn't matter, because instead of setting students at ease, it only terrified them more, if that was even possible.

No one knew what to expect of this New Snape. There were some days that he was testy as ever, but there were others where he seemed almost... cheerful. The first time that the man had genuinely smiled, in the Great Hall no less, three Hufflepuffs and a Weasley had fainted, as well as numerous children wetting their pants. Most children simply avoided him after that and tried to keep as quiet as possible when they were in class.

Snape still very much enjoyed making his students suffer. In fact, it seemed as though this new freedom and spontaneity had simply expanded his terrifying horizons. The man no longer always took points or handed out detentions, instead choosing to use unpredictability to terrify every student in the school. He enjoyed making sure that no student knew what he would do next or how to react to his actions.

Today, he seemed hell bent on making fools out of everyone.

"Can anyone scrape the purpose of the Eris's Eros spell from the bottom of their tiny sieve brains? Anyone? Anyone who is not Ms. Granger? Very well, it seems that you will now receive the dullest lecture I can possibly formulate on the topic."

He began to pace at the front of the classroom, robes swooshing ominously through the stale afternoon air. Every eye in the classroom followed him as he paced from desk to doorway to desk to doorway, robes whipping about on every turn and billowing on every straightaway.

"The Eris's Eros spell, or converter odium, was used from the early fifteen hundreds to about 1560, where it disappeared for unknown reasons. The spell later resurfaced around 1915 during the peaceful protests in India let by Mahatma Gandhi, only to once again fall into disuse. The magical theory of the spell is to cause one's opponent to fall in love with them, as if the opponent is in love with the caster the former shall not attack the latter, but the spell would not cause harm to the victim. The idea, as well as the spell, was ultimately discarded, as the victim of the spell often proved a distraction to the caster."

Here he pointedly ignored a snort or two from some of the less fearful members of the audience. He suddenly stopped in the center of the room, turning to survey every face that watched him from each corner of the room. The room contained all of the returning "eighth years", whose schooling during the last part of the war had been discarded or never completed in the first place. Every eye therein met his, though some flitted away after a moment. Some met his gaze dead on, as if daring him as he continued with his lecture.

"Today, in the theme of this dreaded holiday, we will be practicing this spell in one-on-one duels. Please note that this was in no way the lesson that I had wanted to teach today, but the Headmistress forced each class to be love themed. Thus, you all get to be publicly humiliated by your peers. Now if you would all- oh, what now, Granger?"

The frizzy-haired girl immediately retrieved her slender hand from the air.

"Sir, what would happen if the spell were to be performed on a person who was already in love with the caster?"

A few rustles of shifting students echoed in the tower classroom that housed the DADA. Perhaps some would be thinking the same thoughts. Everyone in the classroom, perhaps with the exception of some Death Eater children, had fought in a war together. None truly hated any of the others, though there was some apathy between some. It was important to know these things, especially if there may be dangerous side effects. Snape, however, glared at the girl before reluctantly answering her question.

"Well, Granger, in theory the spell would do the exact opposite of its purpose. The spell works by reversing the animosity of an opponent in the heat of battle to its exact opposite. It transmits hate to love so, in theory, it should transmit love to hate, temporarily of course. Fear not, though, Ms. Granger, I will be sure to group you into more... appropriate pairs. I have no desire to have my classroom destroyed because you did not wish to be separated from your current fling."

Hermione glanced around at the now nervous class members before meeting his eyes once more.

"One more question, sir. Since none of us have practiced the spell before, may we have a demonstration?"

The man's upper lip curled upward, baring his teeth slightly, and the students in the front row shifted back in their seats at the growl that issued itself from his throat. After a moment, the growl clarified into words.

"Very well, Granger. I suppose that it would be remiss of me to assume that any of you may have learned how to practice a spell properly in the last eight years. Let us have everyone's favorite hot shot Gryffindor up here, shall we, Potter? I am quite anticipating having you slaver at my feet."

At this, the Gryffindor boy paled, then flushed brightly in quick succession. Shuffling, he carefully drew himself up from his seat and hesitantly made his way down to the front of the classroom. Meeting his professor in a traditional dueling manner, Harry saluted, paced the required ten steps, and turned back with his wand at the ready. He took the time for a deep breath before his professor spoke.

"Right, Potter. We shall see if you understand how to stand in one place. Converter odium!"

Harry's mind erupted in a whirl of self-preservation instincts, working without his bidding in a reaction that was a mix of PTSD, the desire to keep his own feelings about the professor private, and a desire not to be murdered by Snape after all was said and done. His wand came up in an arc, a protego shimmering on the tip of his new holly wand and forming a shield in front of his body.

The spell hit and bounced off the youth's shield, making Harry now the spell's, for all intents and purposes, caster. The spell reflected across the room, rebounding with a spark straight into the chest of an outraged Severus Snape. Instantly, the room fell silent. Students gaped a the scene, frozen in shock and awe, waiting to see how the teacher would react. All of the sudden, the loudest yell that anyone in that room had ever heard emerged from the ex-Death Eater's throat.

"YOU IMBECILE! LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU ROTTEN SWINE, I HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL YOU MISERABLE PIECE OF UNGRATEFUL SHIT!"

This was followed with another edition of the Eris's Eros spell from the man's wand, and this time Harry was rather too shocked to block the spell in time. The professor's shouts were met by another voice, this one just as fierce as his.

"ME?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO CALLED ME UP HERE, YOU MISERABLE OLD MAN! IF IT HADN'T BEEN FOR YOUR GODAMN NEED TO HUMILIATE ME AT EVERY TURN WE WOULDN'T BE IN THIS MESS! YOU ARE AN UGLY, SADISTIC, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS FUCKUP!"

At this point, the hexes started. Stray Jelly Legs Jinxes and Bat-Bogey Hexes went every which way, causing every student to use their war-honed reflexes to take cover beneath the desks, erect hasty shields, and plan escape routes. Only Hermione Granger had the presence of mind to send a Patronus for Headmistress McGonagall.

~

Five minutes of chaos later, a furious Minerva flung open the door to the DADA classroom, only to immediately be hit in the face with a curse that turned her hair into snakes. Enraged, she stepped forward and roared into the chaos.

"FINITE INCANTATUM!"

The world stood still once more.

~

Harry and Snape were slumped in identical chairs, tending to their wounds and carefully not looking at each other. Minerva stood stiffly in front of them, glaring at anything that moved, while Hermione stood silently at her side. The students had righted the desks and were currently sitting quietly, trying not to incur their Headmistress' wrath.

"What exactly happened? I want every detail, leave nothing out."

~

"... And after that the hexes only escalated in intensity. I fear that had you not interrupted, Headmistress, one or both of them could have been severely injured. That is when you came in."

The Headmistress nodded, glaring thoughtfully at the two males in the chairs before her, which had been hauled to the front of the classroom by a helpful summoning spell from Hermione. Severus was staring straight ahead, his body language stiff, his eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Beside him, Harry was slumped down in his seat, eyes fixed on his feet, and appeared to be attempting to disappear.

"Well then, sirs. I have no doubt in Severus' casting ability, so it is obvious that the spell backfired. The spell reverses one's hatred toward the caster, correct?"

Severus gave her an apathetic nod and she continued.

"Then it is obvious that it merely converted, instead of your nonexistent hate, your love. Instead of becoming enamored with one another, you temporarily fostered an intense hatred for the other. As this was, quite obviously, a very intense hatred, it appears that it is also a very intense love," she let out a grotesquely smug purr. "How appropriate for the holiday."

A bitterly sarcastic murmur came from an unnamed student in the crowd. "Yes, let's all display our love and affection through dangerous duels that destroy half the Defense classroom."

This was greeted with a death glare from Minerva, before she turned back to the supposedly men who were supposedly deeply in love with one another.

"Well, I suppose that we will have to excuse this class as well as the rest of your classes for the day, Severus. You and Mr. Potter shall go down to the infirmary to have your dueling injuries treated. I believe that you have an important discussion to have."

Harry whipped out of his seat, stomping over to the door and flinging it open. Severus rose gracefully and followed, sneering at the student body on his way out.

~

Silence reigned.

"..."

"..."

"... You are such an ass."

"Oh, really? You are certainly one to talk, Potter."

Harry turned to the man sitting on the bed facing his. Ignoring his right arm, which was being bandaged by Madame Pomfrey, as well as the witch herself, he snarled at his surly professor.

"If you hadn't felt the need to choose me as your unfortunate test subject, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Snape turned his death glare up a notch to "so sharp you'll cut yourself by being within the room with it".

"And if you had done as you were supposed to and not cast protego, only one of us would be in this situation."

A moment passed. Taking a deep breath, Harry fastened his eyes onto the wall opposite him.

"... Look, I'm sorry."

Snape did not react except to hold his eyes on Harry.

"For everything. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your students, honest. It's just... I just didn't want you to know, alright? And judging by how much of an ass you're being about it at the moment, I made the right choice."

A few moments of silence followed before Snape rolled his eyes and, also fixing his eyes on the wall, spoke in a haughty tone.

"Yes, fine. I apologize for my inappropriate behavior. Satisfied, Potter?"

Potter snorted, looking over to the other man with a sarcastic glance, not even noticing Madame Pomfrey as she slipped quietly out the infirmary doors, leaving them cracked ever so slightly.

"Sure, yes, I am totally satisfied that now the entirety of the remaining eighth year class, by now the entire school, and quite possibly the entire wizarding world, is now aware that I am gay and violently enamored with my asshole, greasy-haired DADA teacher. That is absolutely the scandal that I wanted to be remembered for during the entire rest of my life."

Snape sneered from across the infirmary walkway, glaring at the teen that he was supposedly deeply in love with.

"Ah, yes, poor little Potter. His fame has momentarily bitten him where it hurts, until he turns around and saves another pygmy puff from a tree or reads to orphans in his spare time."

At this, Harry violently stood up and stalked, limping slightly, to the other man's cot. He raised his uninjured fist in anger, seething at the other man. Magic dripped off him in sheets, making the frame of the infirmary bed shudder and the windows start to hum in protest.

"You know nothing," he hissed, anger roughening his voice to the growl of a landslide. "I never wanted anything to do with the papers or fans or being hunted by reporters everywhere I go. I just wanted to have a normal life, with a normal education and a normal family. Then you had to go and use that idiotic curse in a demonstration. You never could leave well enough alone, could you, Snape?"

He spit the other man's name like it was poison, as if he was a cobra spitting venom in his anger. Harry's rage was met spark for spark by Snape. The older man leaned forward, teeth grinding together in a snarl worthy of a bengal tiger, eyes narrowing and lines cutting into his face like a grotesque painting of a demon.

"You? Do you think that I meant for this to happen, Potter? Do you think that I wanted the entire world to remember how evil I supposedly am, to ruminate on all of the horrible things that I did in the war? I worked harder than you ever have in your lifetime to do the right thing, to atone for my mistakes. Then I worked some more, to heal myself and to be finally free in the public's eye of any blame. Now, I am but another Death Eater who cast a curse on an innocent Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, who used malicious means to seduce him. You think that I wanted this to happen, Potter?"

All of Harry's breath left him in a rush. His magic calmed, retreating back behind his skin, and his knees gave out to deposit him on Snape's bedside. He simply stared for a moment, shocked by both his outburst and Snape's, shocked by the truth that he had ignored in his selfish anger.

Silence reigned for a few moments or hours. Then, it was disrupted by a noise that sounded like some sort of rupturing tire. Then, the hissing turned into a snort, then a giggle, then a laugh.

Harry chuckled a bit, ignoring the confused glare from Snape.

"So you love me?"

The glare escalated again. Harry chuckled some more.

"And I love you. We love each other so much that we almost murdered each other in cold blood. Isn't that one for the books."

Snape stared on in consternation as the young man continued to chuckle wildly. Harry tried to speak through his laughter.

"So- so we, heh, now we can just live happily ever after while shunned by society." He snorted. "I guess we'd best make the most of it, eh? Would you hex me if I snogged you right now?"

Severus didn't respond except to hold his glare on the mirthful teen. Harry smirked a bit, shaking his head.

"I thought so."

All of the sudden, Harry looked weary. He turned, lowering his head as if he would no longer hold it up against the weight of his problems. A heavy sigh lifted his narrow chest up and down, rushing out of his mouth in a loud, warm puff.

"This would have been so much easier if- well, no. I can't do that. If we concentrated on "what if"s we would be here all day and still be in this hole tomorrow." Another sigh expanded and contracted in his tense shoulders, bowed neck, taught trapezius. "You know, this would go a lot easier if you were to talk."

Severus regarded the younger male. He looked as if his pet had just died, or his hard work on a project had gone to waste. Or, Severus realized, as if he was tired of living his life under the microscope known as the public eye. He liked like someone who did not know what to do and was tired of having to be absolutely perfect for those around him. Severus considered himself for a moment, then moved closer, settling a hand atop the other's bandaged arm. Harry startled, looking up into Severus's face, divining for some purpose or intent.

"It seems to me," murmured Severus, "that the only suitable course of action in this moment would be to make the most of the situation."

Harry's eyebrows drew together, and he tipped his head to one side in an endearing fashion.

"So you mean that we could, maybe, try this out? Try a relationship or something? That wouldn't bother you, you wouldn't kill me for suggesting it?"

Severus allowed the lines on his face to smooth somewhat into a parody of amusement.

"Potter, I just survived a deadly duel with a handsome young man who killed a Dark Lord twice before and whose power drifts off him in waves, in such a way that proves that we are deeply in love with one another. Why would a relationship between me, an aging, ugly ex-Death Eater spy and a powerful wizard half my age who is handsome and sometimes intelligent, bother me?"

Harry smiled slightly and winked.

"Beats me, but I'll take what I can get."

Then he leaned in, sealing their lips in a kiss.

Behind the door to the infirmary, Pomona Sprout and Rolanda Hooch high-fived, Filius squealed and hugged a beaming Hagrid's shin, and Minerva sighed before slipping Poppy Pomfrey a neat five-galleon stack.