"Easy does it, sir," Prefect McConnelly said to the man leaning heavily on his left side. "We're almost to your quarters."

"But I wasn't done yet," the headmaster of Hogwarts muttered, disgruntled but too drunk to sound truly angry.

McConnelly smirked. "We noticed, sir."

Severus Snape leveled an obsidian glare at the young man holding him up. "Then why, in Merlin's name, did you take the rum away if you knew I wasn't finished with it?"

The prefect bit his lip to stop from laughing. "Sir, the rum is gone."

This caught Snape's full attention. "But why is the rum gone?"

"Sir, because you drank it all, sir."

The headmaster seemed to turn this thought over in his mind, his brow furrowed with the effort that took, and then he grinned. It was almost frightening, but prefect McConnelly was made of sterner stuff than most.

"Ah, I see. Well, good. Where are we going?" Snape asked suddenly, looking up into the face of a nearby portrait whose occupant clutched her pearls and fled out of frame. Severus watched her go with a confused frown.

"Your quarters, sir," the young man said for the fifth time since dragging Snape off the dance floor. "And here we are."

Severus watched the prefect rap lightly on the door with his knuckles. The headmaster wondered who was suppose to answer his door since he was not there to do it himself. Something niggled at the back of his mind. Something important that his alcohol addled brain could not grasp.

The door swung open and worried green eyes peeked out into the hall. Oh. Right. Severus tried to pull himself up straight, but only succeeded in leaning more sideways on the prefect's shoulders.

"Harry," Snape greeted his son with a grave nod.

"D-dad?" the boy was still getting used to using the title. "Are you okay?"

McConnelly's smirk returned. "He's fine, Potter...er, Snape. He just had a little too much to drink at the faculty party, that's all."

Harry's eyes widened further. "You drink?" he squeaked up at Severus.

The headmaster rubbed his temple, suddenly remembering what had driven him to such excesses. It was impossible to live up to the boy's idealistic thoughts on what a father should be. Apparently 'not drunk' could be added to that list.

"On occasion," Snape's confession was cut short by a sharp hiccough. He brushed a strand of black hair out of his face and ignored McConnelly entirely. The young man was making strange wheezing noises that couldn't possibly be muffled laughs. Snape straightened and pushed away from McConnelly's assisting grasp, wavering before catching his balance. "Thank you, Mr. McConnelly, that will be all," he said.

"Sir. Good night, sir," the prefect said before leaving.

Now to make it through the doorway that seemed to have a mind of its own, and then to bed. Harry was watching with growing alarm and that alone was enough to make the headmaster focus harder. He took several experimental steps forward and when the floor didn't jump up and snatch him, Snape hurried inside before the blasted doorway could decide to turn into a wavy mouth. This thought struck him as funny, apparently the castle would like very much to eat him, and this sent the man into a bout of giggles.

"Er. Uh, d-dad?" Harry spoke up hesitantly from somewhere below.

Snape glanced down and saw that he had somehow fallen flat on his face, cushioned from the stone floor by Harry's struggling body. It took several long blinks and some mental gymnastics for the man to figure out that he had fallen.

"Oh." Snape sat up - or, at least, he assumed it was up - and checked the boy for obvious injuries. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"'M fine," the boy said adamantly.

"I think, perhaps, I should retire for the night," the headmaster  said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"I think so too," Harry agreed quietly.

Together they somehow got Snape through the length of their quarters and into his own bedroom where he promptly collapsed, robes and all, on the bed and began snoring.

-

Snape groaned loudly and pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead. It felt like a herd of hippogriffs were taking his skull for a spin. He groaned again and let his head fall forward to rest on the cool table top. Other faculty members were whispering around him, but he ignored their gossip. He had maybe five more minutes to nurse his hangover before the students would start to file into the great hall for breakfast. An index finger poked at his right elbow and he turned his head, still supported by the table, to glare at the offending party.

Minerva McGonagall was studying him with twinkling eyes and a mischevious grin. That was a dangerous combination.

"Don't tell me," Snape said.

The last thing he wanted was to know the horrors of what his drunk self had done. It was all a blissful blank and he wanted to keep it that way, but the smile on McGonagall's face let him know that would not be possible.

"I never knew you were such a student of karaoke," the transfiguration teacher said innocently. "Your truly have a lovely singing voice, Severus." She actually sounded sincere. "I'm not sure if anyone else could have pulled off such a stirring rendition of 'Love Shack'."

Severus closed his eyes and willed himself to drop straight through the castle floor and into the inviting darkness of the dungeons where he could pretend she had not just said that. Instead, he remained obstinately seated at the head table. It was then that Poppy decided to speak up in her delicate accent.

"Headmaster, I do hope that you do not make good on your idea of mandatory karaoke at all faculty parties," there was an icy undercurrent that simply dared him to confirm such a terrifying idea.

"Of course not. I was not in my right mind, Madam Pomfrey," Snape said.

He heard her relieved exhale of breath and then the sound of teachers straightening in their chairs, the wood creaking.

"Students," McGonagall informed him unnecessarily.

Straightening, the headmaster put on his best 'don't fuck with me today' face and waited for their breakfast to arrive. He would need to find a way to bribe everyone who had been present to secrecy. Hm. Perhaps some rather expensive gifts. Snape started to make a mental list. Then he would offer a sincere round of apologies, starting with his son.