Harry was relieved that his final day of classes was at an end, and he Floo'd back to the flat after the final hour. Harry knew that Ron and Hermione would be celebrating by themselves for a few hours, but he was on schedule to meet them, Dean, Seamus, Luna, and Colin at various Muggle bars before ending their night at The Leaky in Diagon. Ginny had spoken to Dean about her schedule, and she was in training for the next week before The Holyhead Harpies began their series of summer games, topping off with a match against The Kenmare Kestrels in the third week of July and, as such, couldn't make the evening.

Harry tidied up his things, knowing that he would receive his exam results at the weekend, and that would mean that he would either be graduating or not. Shaking his head and assuring himself that he had nothing to worry about, Harry decided to take a kip before getting ready for the bars that night. He had, after all, put in a significant amount the past four years, in order to obtain the Wizarding World's equivalent of a Bachelor's Degree, and one nap on a late Friday afternoon certainly wouldn't ruin things.

As Harry tore off his robes from the academy and kicked the door of his bedroom shut behind him, his mind went over his final conversation with Master Snape just six days before. His eyes became blurry in the semi-darkness of his bedroom as they wetted with tears, and he chastised himself for growing so attached so quickly. Why did Master Snape affect him so, especially after only two meetings? Swallowing the lump that was threatening to develop in his throat, Harry stripped down to his red and gold boxers and slipped into the bed, turning his tear-stained face into the pillow, and tried to sleep.

Around seven, Harry finally managed to drag himself out of bed and into the en suite, where he stripped off his boxers and climbed into the shower. It took a bit longer to adjust the temperature to his liking but, once he did so, he stood beneath the hot stream of water until his skin turned red and the pads of his fingers turned as pruney as his mind. Climbing out and casting a Drying Charm, Harry slipped back into his bedroom and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers—green, which matched his eyes—as well as dark trousers, a white button-down shirt, a green woolen jumper that Molly had made for him for his last birthday, socks from Headmaster Dumbledore, and black shiny dress shoes from Remus and Tonks. Dragging his hand through his hair and losing his battle with attempting to tame it, Harry casted a Cleaning Charm upon his mouth before he stepped out into the living room, wand safely secured in his jumper's sleeve, and Apparated to an alley in Downtown London.

Stepping out and looking around the warm evening, Harry took the directions that Hermione had given him, given that their first stop this evening was notoriously hard to find. Down another alley with brick walls on all sides, Harry spotted the sign for Ye Olde Mitre Tavern, with its sign reminiscent of an old battle shield. Smiling to himself and stepping forward, Harry let himself in and gave the name Granger, as this was their party name for the night. There were framed historical paintings upon the walls, and Harry could vaguely identify some of them from his primary school days, but was quite sure that Hermione could name them all. There were wooden tables, both round and rectangular, dotting the carpeted floor, and Harry found his party quite soon, tucked away in a back corner.

Thanking the man, and letting him know that he knew where he needed to be, Harry crossed the pub and made his way towards his friends. Ron clapped him on the back immediately, while Hermione promptly embraced him, Luna kissing him lightly upon the cheek, Neville giving him a hearty hug along with Seamus, and Dean squeezing his shoulder. Smiling at them all, Harry let Hermione order for them all, and it appeared as if they were starting with scotch. Harry took the opportunity to look around before their scotch was due to arrive, and noticed that one gilt-framed painting was that of King Henry the Eighth, positioned quite near their table.

Ron and Hermione, plus Luna and Neville, were sharing a bench against the back wall, while Seamus was leaning over the table, spinning a yarn for them all. Dean was leaning back against the wall, taking it all in, and Harry perched upon one of the small, rounded stools which elevated him considerably. Their scotches arrived rather quickly, despite all the hustle and bustle around them, and Hermione held hers up, eying everyone around the table, save Luna, in case they dared to drink before she said her piece.

"Congratulations on graduating!" she said, still holding her tumbler aloft. "May we all be successful in all that we do, and may we get utterly pissed tonight!"

"Here, here!" Seamus said, lifting his glass to his lips.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron said, grinning at her, before they all threw back the scotch and slammed their glasses onto the table. "Another round?"

"Stout, this time, I think," Dean observed quietly.

"I'll get it," Harry said, getting to his feet, relieved that he wasn't feeling the alcohol yet. He strode over to the bar, leaning upon it, and waited for the barkeep to look over at him. "Could I please get seven of the Quadrant?" he asked.

"The table in the back, right?" the man asked.

Harry nodded. "That's right."

The man gave him a quick smile. "We'll bring it over to you, no problem."

"Thank you," Harry said with a grin.

"Why don't you order a couple of others, keep you busy for a while?" the man suggested, already getting their stout ready.

Harry nodded again; it seemed like a good idea. "What do you recommend?"

"The Seafarers is very good, and I particularly like the London Pride," the man said quickly, obviously used to the question.

"Well, we'll have a round of both, then," Harry told him.

"Celebrating something?"

"We all graduated from university tonight," Harry explained. "We all attended the same secondary school as well, so we've been a group for quite a long time."

The man nodded. "Well, enjoy yourselves then," he told them. "We'll have your drinks brought to you quickly."

Harry smiled, knowing when he'd been dismissed. "Thanks," he replied, spinning around and going back to the table.

"Harry!" Ron said, dipping his hand in a bowl of pretzels. "Where'd you go, mate?"

"Just ordering us a couple rounds," Harry told him, slipping back onto the stool. "The bartender recommended we order a couple."

"Wise thinking," Seamus said with a nod.

"But not too many, right, Harry?" Hermione asked. "We want to hit a couple more places before we get to The Leaky..."

"Just three more for each of us," Harry told her.

Hermione nodded. "A perfectly acceptable number," she said primly. "We're going to The Blackfriar after this and, even though it's only two and a half kilometers from here, we'll still want to be in a good mental place to Apparate."

Everyone around the table was plenty buzzed after the three more drinks, and Hermione suggested that they pay the tab and go, for it was getting on ten o'clock. Everyone agreed and coughed up some Muggle money before leaving, finding the alleyway that Harry had Apparated into before. Hermione told everyone the coordinates for The Blackfriar and, with a series of pops, they vanished.

The Blackfriar was on a far busier street than Ye Olde Mitre Tavern had been, and so they'd had to find another alley to pop into. They all did rather quickly, however, and were soon going down the street to get into the other pub. Inside was beautiful, with a ceiling evocative of an old church, with highly-polished wooden tables and mismatched chairs. There were mirrors lining the walls and a red bench in the back, and they were all seated at a table relatively quickly, with Hermione requesting a tumbler of Copper Dog for each of them.

"This place has an extensive whiskey menu," she explained after the waiter left. "I figure we can sample a fair few of them, if no one objects..."

"None from me," Neville said, who was handling his liquor quite well. "I've always had a taste for it, myself."

Harry found he was quite fond of the Copper Dog, and agreed with the assessment that it boasted a hint of honey and spice. Next, they tried something from the "sweet whiskey" menu, with Ron selecting one called Glenfiddich Fire & Cane, which was rumored to taste like soft smoke and a sweet baked apple, with Ron saying it reminded him of a boozier version of one of his mum's desserts, to which Hermione laughed. Seamus selected the next one, this time from the "smoky whiskey" section, and went with one called Talisker Skye, which matched its description of tasting like it was "full of character" quite well. Finally, Dean selected the final one, this time from the "spicy whiskey" tariff, and chose Woodford Reserve, for he claimed to like the description of a "crisp, clean finish".

Luna, who had done some research of her own, had selected The Dove in Hammersmith as their third and final stop before The Leaky. She had heard about their wine list, and had wanted to try some Muggle wine, and everyone in their little group seemed game. Visiting the pub earlier, she had obtained a copy of their menu and had ordered ahead, creating what she called a "wine tasting menu", and Neville, in particular, seemed more than a little proud of his girlfriend's initiative to do so. They Apparated straight there, once their bill at The Blackfriar was sorted, and stepped right in, and were guided to a rectangular-shaped table by the window.

Harry noticed how different this pub was; it had a far more homey feel to it, with a brick-laid fireplace and black and white photographs along the walls in sort of a hodgepodge or patchwork pattern. It was here that Colin joined them, for Colin had been working late on making sure that the photographs of Master Snape were "absolutely stunning". Harry just waited for the first of the wine to be brought, and tried not to think about where Colin had been, or what he had been doing while he'd been gone.

"This is a Furleigh Estate Rose from Dorset," Luna explained as their first glasses arrived, of the sparkling wine variety. She sipped it, and informed them all that it was rumored to have a bright red fruitiness about it, and everyone agreed. The second glasses came out, this time of the white range, while the first were cleared away, and Luna spoke up again. "I selected the Singing Gruner Veltliner, from Austria, as our second, because of its apparent delicate poise and balance, which we all need more of in the world," she said quietly, sipping it, and smiled when everyone seemed to enjoy it. There was a lull them as they all waited for the third glasses to come out and, when they did, Luna visibly brightened. "I chose the L'Etoile de Mer from France for our third wine experience, and this one, as you can see, is of the rose variety, and is told to be pale, pink, and delicious," she enthused.

Hermione sipped her drink and nodded. "Ronald, this is simply inspired," she said, her eyes filled with a dreamy look of utter tipsiness. "What do you think?"

"I love it, 'Mione," he declared, grinning at her, raising his now-empty glass, before dipping his head down and kissing her.

Luna twittered, placing her hand upon Neville's knee, which sputtered slightly with a giggle into his own wine glass as she did so. She leaned into his side, and he put his arm carefully around her willowy frame, as everyone finished their glass of rose wine and waited for their next glasses to arrive at the table. "3 Bridges Cabernet Sauvignon from Australia," Luna said proudly as their glasses of red arrived. They all sipped delicately at what they initially thought to be their last wine, but the owner of the pub came out from the kitchen shortly thereafter, carrying a tray with crystal-cut wine glasses upon it.

"Miss Lovegood was so polite and generous, that I thought that you all should sample the best of the best from our cellar," he proclaimed, gently putting the new glasses onto the table, and whisking their red wine ones away.

"Oh, it's lovely," Hermione said, inspecting it. "What is it?"

"This is a champagne, Bollinger La Grande Annee, from France," said the owner with a twinkle in his eye, reminding Harry of their former headmaster. "I hope you all enjoy. Miss Lovegood has already settled the bill," he said, and moved away from the table.

Luna attempted to get to her feet. "But, sir, we didn't pay for—"

"Think of it as a 'thank you' for your father so generously doing an article on us," he said with a friendly smile. "We don't get many wizards here."

Harry blanched. "You mean you...?"

"Of course I know. Xenophilius and I were at Hogwarts together. I was a Hufflepuff, if you must know," the man said with a grin, "or, at least, I would have been, had the hat not decided I'd do better in Ravenclaw," he went on, slipping back into the kitchen with a laugh.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, picking up his champagne and tasting it. "Merlin, that's good. Now I know why you're always going on about it, 'Mione."

"I can't tell you how many dental conventions my parents have been to," she said with a quick smile, "but I can tell you that they always tell me about the champagne." Hermione bent forward then and sipped it. "Oh, Merlin. It's delicious."

They settled up everything, leaving a generous tip for the owner, and slipped out of the pub, and found a way to Apparate to Charing Cross Road. Once they'd gotten there, they headed straight inside The Leaky, and Tom had a table towards the side already waiting for them, with several shots of Firewhiskey upon it. Harry immediately approached the table, wanting to continue the night, and wanting to do away with the thoughts that ran rampant from within his mind, about Master Snape's beautiful voice and false promises.

Of course, he reasoned, the man had hardly promised him anything. However, in his wounded state, Harry certainly couldn't think clearly. That's where the Firewhiskey came in, he reasoned, as he took one of the shot glasses and threw it back. Tom brought over trays of shot glasses for them all, with Firewhiskey, Guinness, Tongue-Tying Lemon Squash which had a generous amount of gin in it, Otter's Fizzy Orange Juice with vodka, Fishy Green Ale, a new variety of pumpkin juice with bourbon, and, finally, some alcoholic Butterbeer.

Once all the drinking had gone on for over an hour, Harry stumbled to his feet to go to the bathroom, but ended up in one of the private rooms instead. He found that he was outright giggling as he approached the fireplace, knowing that all of the ones within The Leaky were on the Floo Network. Stumbling closer, he grabbed some Floo powder and tossed some into the grate, and the flames turned green, waiting for him to call out his destination, or where he wanted to call someone.

"Fiole Bureau, Master Severus Snape's office!" he said, and covered his mouth with his hands, as more and more giggles threatened to escape from them. The man, he reasoned, was enough of a workaholic to still be at his office this late on a Friday night, despite the fact that it was encroaching upon midnight.

"Who is calling?" came the bark, and Harry shivered automatically as the words entered his subconscious and traveled up and down his body.

"Hey, Sev'rus," he said, forgetting his manners in his inebriated state.

There was a moment of silence before the man asked, "Harry? Is that you?"

"Yeah!" Harry said, falling to his knees and clapping his hands. "You caught the Hitch right in your sand!" he declared.

"Harry, have you been drinking?" Master Snape asked, his tone an accusatory one.

Anger immediately flared through Harry—the man had no right! "So what?" he slurred, knowing that it wasn't helping his cause. "I'm celebrating... I graduated. Aren't I allowed to celebrate at all, Sev'rus?" he whined.

"You haven't graduated yet; you've merely completed your exams," Master Snape replied, as if he was speaking to a small child. "Are you safe?"

"Does it matter?" Harry demanded. "You're... You're the one who p-pushed me away! 'No, Harry, I have to let you go. I'm not the man for you...'" Harry went on, hating how his voice broke as he said the words.

"Harry, you do realize that all Floo connections have tracking?" Master Snape asked.

Harry mentally cursed himself; had he not been pissed, he would have certainly remembered that little detail. "Maybe," he managed to get out.

"Don't go anywhere," Master Snape ordered. "I hate traveling the Floo at night. I'm coming to get you. I'll be there soon," he said, and the connection was cut.

Harry shakily got to his feet, feeling like a right idiot. Stumbling out of the private parlor and back into the main room of The Leaky, his full bladder forgotten, Harry thought it best to get some air. Stepping outside as best he could, Harry drank in some of the early summer air, and hoped that the significant drop in temperature would alleviate his drunken symptoms. As he breathed, he heard the door of The Leaky opening from behind him and, turning, saw that Colin was coming towards him.

"Hey," Colin said, grinning at him. "You all right?"

"Yeah, fine, Colin," Harry told him, forcing a smile to his lips. "It was really great of you to come tonight..."

"Even though I don't graduate for another year?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Of course. Luna's not graduating, and she came..."

"Yeah, but she's with Neville, and Neville's your best mate after Ron and Hermione," Colin told him, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"We did share a dorm back at Hogwarts, Colin," Harry told him. "It's not that hard to become close to your dorm mates. You either hate them, become best friends..."

"Or fall in love with them?" Colin asked, looking in through the window of the pub. "When do you think Dean is gonna wise up?"

"Wise up? Dean's pretty smart, Colin..."

"Not like this," Colin told him. "Ginny clearly doesn't have any real feelings for him; she just doesn't want to be alone..."

"I don't think we can assume that, Colin. They've been a couple for years..."

"But Seamus is in love with Dean," Colin said turning back to Harry. "Tell me that you can see it and that I'm not blind."

Harry turned and looked through the window himself, and saw how Seamus was looking at Dean, and how Dean didn't seem to notice. Such an image was heartbreaking, and Harry knew then that he had known for years about Seamus's feelings for Dean, but hadn't said anything, because Dean and Ginny had been a couple... "I suppose you're right," Harry said, and nodded his head. "It is pretty obvious..."

"That's not the only thing that's obvious, you know."

Harry blinked, and turned to look at Colin. "What are you talking about?"

Colin sighed. "Harry, I know you know that I've really cared about you for a long time," he said softly, and stepped closer. "I mean, even though I'm a Muggleborn, I still knew who you were. I took all those pictures of you my first year, for Merlin's sake!"

"Colin, I'm really flattered, but..."

"Please, don't," Colin said quickly. "I just need to get this off my chest. Please, Harry," he went on, and closed the distance between them.

"Colin? Colin, no. No," Harry said firmly, but Colin seemed blind and deaf to Harry's protests as he continued inching closer to him.

"What in Merlin's teeth do you think you're doing?!" demanded a beautiful voice from behind Colin, as Colin was suddenly wrenched away from him.

"Sev'rus?" Harry whispered, trembling at the man's sudden appearance.

"I believe the gentleman said 'no', and that means, 'I do not wished to be passionately snogged by the likes of you'."

Harry suddenly doubled over then, the night of drinking having caught up with him, and began vomiting on the pavement. He was woozy, and felt himself becoming faint, barely registering the vomit vanishing, and the Cleansing Charm upon his mouth. Then, he felt those incredibly strong arms around him, and Severus's voice barking orders to Colin, before the pair of them were whisked away somewhere, and Harry's world was filled with darkness.

~*~

Harry felt the telltale sensation of the pounding in his head when he became aware of things once again, and knew then, for sure, that he'd had way too much to drink the night before. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed for a moment before grunting slightly and pushing himself upwards, thinking that Ron had somehow manhandled him home. However, once he had rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around, wandlessly and wordlessly summoning his glasses, he came to the conclusion that he was somewhere he hadn't been before.

Looking down, Harry saw that he was in an unfamiliar undershirt, but was still in his boxers from the night before. Chewing on his tongue, his eyes drifted over to the nightstand, which had a green, crystal-cut bottle upon it, with a slice of parchment beneath it, which read, in spidery scrawl, Drink me. Pursing his lips, Harry shuffled forward and took ahold of the bottle, uncorked it, and downed its contents, tasting lemongrass, beets, sage, rosemary, and ginger, and was not altogether displeased with the concoction. The tenderness in his head quickly evaporated, and he drew his knees to his chest, wondering who could possibly fill in the gaps for him as to what had happened the night before.

The room itself appeared to be a guest one, with a secretary desk a few feet away from the bed, a bay window with a green embroidered window cushion upon its seat, two doors—one of which Harry deduced was a closest, and the other a loo—and several framed black and white photographs of herbs. From where Harry sat upon the bed, he could make out angelica, marjoram, dill, thyme, and ivy. It was at the sound of heavy footfalls upon the stairs below him that told Harry that he was not completely alone, and, as he looked up, the door to the bedroom he was in opened.

"Good morning, Harry," said Master Snape as he stepped into the room, holding onto what appeared to be a breakfast tray, which smelled incredible.

"Good morning," Harry said, his voice squeaking as the tray, which had legs beneath it, was placed in front of him. Looking down at it, Harry noticed scrambled eggs, rashers of bacon, breakfast potatoes, a platter of fruit, two slices of sourdough toast, and a large glass of iced pumpkin juice. "What...?"

"You took the potion I left you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Well, you do have an appetite, don't you?"

"The routine starvation stopped when I was nearly sixteen," Harry said quietly, slowly picking up the knife and fork—spotting the small plate of butter and jam for the first time—and placing the provided napkin in his lap. "With Molly Weasley's cooking, I've more than made up for my perpetually small stomach."

Master Snape lowered his eyes. "I doubt my cooking could possibly compare to a mother of eight's culinary delights..."

"Nonsense," Harry told him, stabbing at his eyes, and his eyes widened at how delicious they turned out to be. "Merlin, these are good..."

Master Snape inclined his head in thanked and perched upon the side of the bed. "Do you often drink to excess?"

Harry blinked, promptly shaking his head as he lifted his butter knife, smearing a healthy amount of butter and what appeared to be red currant jam onto his first slice of toast. "No, of course not," he told Master Snape, shocked at how much he wanted to assure the man of that fact. "It was just that... Well, we were celebrating, and we wanted to..."

"Have a bit of fun, is that it?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Master Snape shook his head. "If you were mine, Harry, I don't think you would find it particularly easy to sit down for a duration of seven days without utilizing healing salve," said the potions master.

Harry, who had, by this time, taken a bite of his toast, was shocked. "What?" he asked, the shock registering in his eyes as he spoke with his mouth full.

"Do you doubt my implication?"

Harry managed to swallow his bite of toast as he stared at the man. "If your implication is that you would spank me for my behavior, and then refuse to heal me, I understand you quite clearly, sir," he replied. "I don't, however, I believe that resorting to corporal punishment is very appropriate..."

"Some people enjoy it, Harry."

"Some people...?" Harry shook his head, lowering the rest of his slice of toast. "Merlin, you're unbelievable..."

"What?" asked Master Snape.

Harry scoffed. "You know what..."

Master Snape reached out then, gently taking ahold of Harry's chin, and pulled it so as the younger man was looking at him. "If I knew the true direction of where your thoughts were going, Harry, then I would not ask you."

"You're not using your mind tricks on me?"

"Legilimency is not a 'mind trick', Harry. It is a tool of navigation, wherein the caster goes through the person's mind in an effort to correctly deduce the person's feelings," Master Snape told him simply. "I'm not using it on you now, for you are not a client of mine, and I would think that you would be honest with me."

Harry sighed, lowering his eyes away from the black pools of Master Snape's. "It's just... I don't understand why you seemed to do everything in your power to push me away the last time we saw each other... Well, before last night," he went on, and felt himself flushing deeply at the memories which managed to come back to him. "I guess you could say that I'm not the biggest fan of mixed signals..."

"I can understand that. That is yet another thing we have in common," Master Snape informed him, not releasing his chin.

"Could I get a straight answer, then?" Harry asked.

Master Snape squeezed at his chin ever so slightly, prompting Harry to look back up at him. "It would appear that I have become incapable of staying away from you, Harry."

Harry felt a gasp lodging itself in his throat as the shock rocketed through him. "You... You really mean that?" he whispered.

Master Snape slowly smiled at Harry. "I do. One thing you will never get from me, Harry, is dishonesty. I am that way with my clients, as well as my family and friends."

"And... And in what capacity do you want me?" Harry breathed.

Master Snape slowly caressed Harry's chin, never taking his eyes away from his. "That is somewhat up to you, Harry. I don't like being too forceful, if it is clearly not what the other person involved wants."

Harry felt his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Forceful?" he managed to get out.

"Precisely," Master Snape replied. "If I had it my way, I think I would have you, every which way, for as long as we both pleased."

Harry felt himself flushing even deeper, if such a thing was even possible. "Merlin... That's just mad," he whispered.

Master Snape smirked. "Oh, I doubt that very much, Harry. You're exquisite. Anyone would be lucky to have you. While I don't admire Mr. Creevey's actions last evening, I will never disparage him his tastes in men."

"And you have tastes in men?"

"I just said I did, Harry."

"And do you... Do those tastes also go towards women?"

Master Snape continued to smirk. "While I can recognize the attractiveness in any female specimen, Harry, I am not attracted to them sexually."

"Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No," Master Snape answered. "I lost my virginity at the age of around sixteen. The man who took my virginity is a part of my past, and he helped me discover what makes me tick," the man explained. "It wasn't an eye opening experience, me realizing I liked men; it always was a part of my genetic makeup. It was what I liked doing with men that really floored me, and it is something that, while I keep it private, I still enjoy it nevertheless."

Harry nodded. "I suppose that all makes sense," he whispered.

"You have no idea how truly beautiful and captivating you are, do you, Harry?" Master Snape asked, mapping out every inch of his face with his black eyes.

Harry chuckled lightly then, lowering his eyes. "No, I'm not," he said softly, sinking his teeth into his lower lip.

Master Snape reached out then, gently pulling Harry's lip from betwixt his lips, and Harry's eyes locked onto his. "I would like to bite that lip," the man whispered.

Harry felt his entire body shuddering then. "I think I would like that," he replied.

"I'm unwilling to touch you, Harry, until we've come to a firm agreement, and I've got your consent from that," Master Snape told him.

Harry blinked. "What are you talking about, Master Snape?"

The man smiled softly then. "One thing that I must tell you, Harry, is that I would prefer if you addressed me as Severus whenever it is appropriate to do so," he said softly. "I find 'Master Snape' to be only utilized appropriately in an apprentice setting, or in an employee one. As you are neither, 'Severus' is the most appropriate."

Harry nodded. "Very well, Severus."

Severus smiled at him, gently caressing his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. "We will have a serious discussion about what we will come to mean to each other, Harry," he told him, before he lowered his hand and got off the bed. "Why don't you finish your breakfast? There are some new clothes for you in the loo, and you can take a shower. You'll find shampoo, conditioner, and body wash inside the shower caddy. If you need anything, anything at all, my house-elf, Orlee, shall take care of you."

Harry nodded at the man. "Thank you," he whispered. Harry waited for the man to leave, before he finished his breakfast and got to his feet. He called for Orlee, who took the tray and things away to the kitchen with a smile, and Harry trooped over towards the loo, letting himself inside and doing his absolutions. He found that his wand was sitting on top of the loo, much to his relief, and utilizing a Cleaning Spell for his teeth once he'd completed his shower.

The outfit, whom Harry assumed Severus had gotten him, consisted of a pair of charcoal-gray trousers, a deep green button-down, a black vest, some nondescript striped socks, and a new pair of black Brogue shoes. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, Harry left the bathroom, after trying and failing to brush his hair, and walked through the bedroom. After finding that he had no further belongings within, he trooped out of there, down the hallway, and made his way down the staircase and into a sitting room.

Severus looked up as Harry came down the last step and stood in front of him. The man appeared to be wanting to calm himself, but, once he realized there was naught to be done, he suddenly charged forward like a panther. "Fuck the discussion," he declared, grabbing ahold of Harry and slamming him up against the wall beneath the staircase, forcing Harry's lips open, and mapping out every inch of Harry's mouth with his tongue. Severus took ahold of Harry's arms, which tried their best to go around Severus, and pinned them up above his head, and Harry was mortified when he mewled in the man's mouth.

There was a pop from beside them and a gravelly, "Master Severus?"

Severus tore himself away from Harry, who lowered his eyes and flushed back; he couldn't even look at the man's house-elf. "Yes, Orlee?" Severus asked.

"Will Master Severus and Master Harry be staying for lunch?"

"No, thank you, Orlee. See to your other chores, please," Severus replied.

"Naturally, Master Severus," Orlee replied, and popped away.

"Sorry about him," Severus said softly, gently tilting Harry's chin up. "I don't often have guests, so he becomes excited."

Harry nodded. "My house-elf, Kreacher, works in the Hogwarts Kitchens. I just couldn't keep him after I realized how much he liked it there..."

"Ah, so you're compassionate as well," Severus observed. He stared at Harry for a moment and nodded his head. "You understand how taken I am with you?"

"I like to think so," Harry whispered.

Severus nodded, before reaching out his hand. "Come with me."

Harry willingly reached out and took Severus's hand, and was guided across the room towards the massive fireplace, which had a pot of Floo powder hanging just beside it. Harry took the pot when Severus held it out to him, and watched as Severus scattered the powder into the flames, which promptly sputtered to life and flared green. Swallowing, Harry handed the man back the pot, tensing slightly as he wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Charlecote Park," Severus uttered.

The Floo elongated itself automatically as Harry and Severus stepped into it, and they were promptly swallowed up by the flames. They were spat out of a fireplace on the other side, with Severus casting Scourgify on them both, and taking Harry by the hand and down the stairs. It was shocking to Harry when Severus nodded to someone, taking Harry out the main doors and into what Harry knew to be a deer park. There were no before them, meaning that the guests would have to walk along the grass, and the single body of water was curved and went off in all directions; Severus chose one at random and casually led Harry along, who looked around him, taking in the bronze deer statue, as well as the flora and fauna around them.

"This is beautiful," Harry whispered.

Severus looked to where Harry was looking; his younger companion was walking close to the edge of the water, and was gazing at the expanse of park land around them. "It is," Severus replied with a nod. "My mother used to take me here when I was a boy, whenever we could get away from my father. It was a wonderful respite, even if only for just a few hours, just to get out into the fresh air."

"I'm sure that there are many potions ingredients here," Harry observed.

Severus turned to look over at Harry. "Yes, there are. However, this is a National Park, and, to be a proper member of The Potions Guild, you cannot obtain ingredients from one."

Harry blinked; he hadn't known that tidbit of information before. "Where are you permitted to take them from, then?"

"From your own garden, of course," Severus replied, walking along again, and Harry hurried to keep up with the man's long strides. "Any other members' of The Guild, who give you permission to harvest in their gardens, are also permitted. And then there is Wizarding Trusted Land, the equivalent of a Muggle's National Trust, such as The Forbidden Forest or the greenhouses at Hogwarts, which all the schools have, as herbology is a core class in every curriculum," he explained. "Every wizarding school that you can think of has a Wizards' Division in their nearby forest, so, even if they are in the National Trust, there are apparent markers for expert Herbologists, potion masters, or magizoologists to know where is an appropriate place for them to cultivate or study the wildlife, flora, or fauna," he went on, and Harry realized that he could listen to the man speaking all day.

"What about the other schools?" Harry wanted to know. "Where can Herbologists, potion masters, and magizoologists go?"

Severus smiled at Harry. "The Pyrenees conifer and mixed forests for Beauxbatons; the Forests of Smolyan for Durmstrang; the Mohawk Trail State Forest for Ilvermorny; the Amazon rainforest for Castelobruxo; the Yakushima Forest for Mahoutokoro School of Magic; the Białowieża Forest for Koldovstoretz; and the Mabira Forest for the Uagadou School of Magic," he said softly, in a tone that Harry would describe as reverent.

"You're unbelievable," Harry whispered, his tone one of awe.

Severus smiled. "I have merely dedicated my life to this particular subject, Harry. Anyone could easily do the same."

"Not Neville," Harry told him, and Severus arched an eyebrow. "A close friend of Ron's and mine, who is very much in love with Luna, his girlfriend," he said quickly, not wanting Severus to get the wrong idea. "He... He never could grasp potions. He was the best Herbologist in our year, though, and Professor Sprout is giving him an apprenticeship starting next term, but in potions he was completely helpless," he said softly, feeling sorry for his friend. "They'd turn out the wrong color, or he'd forget an ingredient or wouldn't stir it properly. Even if he paid attention, they'd turn out useless... No matter how patient Professor Slughorn was with Neville, it wouldn't matter, and Hermione, Ron, and I were particularly surprised that he managed to get into advanced potions at all..."

"Why wouldn't it matter?" Severus asked, going back a few words in Harry's thoughts, clearly wanting to get to the bottom of Neville's problem.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Slughorn was a decent enough professor, I suppose, but Neville always seemed jumpy and nervous around him."

Severus blinked, never taking his eyes off Harry. "In what way?"

"He was uncomfortable," Harry said softly.

Severus gave a short nod, and turned back out to look at the water, clearly wanting to put the conversation to bed. "You mentioned you were raised by Muggles."

Harry chuckled darkly. "If by 'raised', you mean kept in a cupboard as a bedroom for nearly eleven years, taught to cook and clean from the age of four, and be beaten constantly for the smallest infractions imaginable, not to mention the 'Harry Hunting'... Yes," he said softly. "I was raised by Muggles."

"Cupboard?"

"They only had three bedrooms, and the third was used for all my cousin's broken toys," Harry explained with a small shrug. "Once my Hogwarts letter came, Vernon and Petunia became worried that it would be found out, even though it had been printed on the bloody envelope where I lived specifically... Anyhow, afterwards, they gave me Dudley's second bedroom, but their treatment of me hardly improved."

"But you mean to tell me that you lived in...?"

"A cupboard? Yes," Harry said softly. "Until my eleventh birthday, I was seen as the unwanted and orphaned freak who had to live with them. You know, they even told me that my mum and dad died in a car crash," he said, his tone bitter.

"That is utterly disgusting," Severus said softly.

"You're telling me," Harry said, wrapping his arms around himself. "I got to spend Christmases at the Burrow, every year after second year, but Headmaster Dumbledore said I would be at my safest staying at Privet Drive, because of all the Death Eaters still on the loose. He said they blamed me, you know, for Riddle's death, and so the blood wards would keep me protected from their wrath..."

"And after you turned fifteen?"

"I can speak to snakes," Harry said, very quietly. "There were whispers from the various paintings throughout the school, ones which had snakes in them, that my godfather, Sirius, was in danger... I know you didn't like him, and I understand, but he was good to me..."

"No need to apologize, Harry," Severus told him.

"Anyhow, I got scared, and so I followed their advice and went to the Ministry of Magic, where they said he was being held. He was, by Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband and brother-in-law, plus the Carrow siblings, Dolohov, and Greyback. My friends—they refused to be left behind—and I waged battle upon them before the Aurors came..."

"Who went with you?"

"Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna," he replied. "Ginny is Ron's younger sister, and the only girl in the family, and she refused to be left out. Fred and George, their twin older brothers, covered for us back at the school, and promised to summon the Aurors, while we fought all the Death Eaters."

"How did you manage to accomplish that?"

"Remus was our instructor until I graduated before he retired," Harry explained. "He was the best of the best, ever since Lockhart went mad and Quirrell disappeared..."

"And Black was murdered?"

"Yes, by Bellatrix," Harry said, his throat threatening to close up with emotion.

"Which Aurors came?"

"Moody, Kingsley, Tonks, Dawlish, Robards, Scrimgeour, among others," Harry said. "They caught and imprisoned them all, except Greyback, who Neville ended up killing after he went after Luna..."

"Neville was the one who killed Greyback?"

"His teeth were bared. He could've bitten her," Harry said firmly.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "I suppose he warrants being in Gryffindor, then."

Harry nodded. "He does," he assured him.

Severus inclined his head. "I see that now."

Harry and Severus continued meandering along through the park, and Harry found that Severus had yet to open up completely. "Will you tell me something more about you?" he asked. "Not about potions, or the Dark Arts or herbology, but about you..."

"You are asking me to get personal."

Harry sighed. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Severus nodded his head. "I suppose I can afford to be so, for a time, anyway, for you have so willingly done so with me," he replied. Thinking it over as they walked along, he began to speak once again. "I enjoy a good red wine with my dinner. I enjoy home-cooked meals, or meals in restaurants that are reminiscent of such. My favorite food is a Sunday roast, with roasted potatoes and vegetables, which usually pairs excellently with a red wine. My favorite cuisine is Italian, and I can speak that language, along with French and Gaelic. The first potion I brewed successfully was Forgetfulness Potion, underneath my mother's watchful eye, as a celebration of receiving my Hogwarts letter. Both my parents are still living; my mother was restored to the Prince family line after my grandfather passed away, and my grandmother permitted it. After my grandmother passed away, my mother and father moved into the Prince Estate. I enjoy classical music, with Mozart, Chopin, and Liszt being my favorites. I very much enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures and astronomy while I was in school. My favorite weather is a dark and stormy day so as I can read a good book and just listen to the rain. I enjoy Shakespeare, King Lear is my favorite of his plays; Austen, Sense and Sensibility being my choice of her novels; Orwell, Animal Farm captured me as a teenager and still continues to do so; and Tolstoy, with Anna Karenina devastating and enlightening in equal parts the most of all. I do enjoy a Muggle film every now and again, and find the works of Hitchcock, Welles, and Kurosawa both entertaining and captivating me the most. I enjoy cooking, and occasionally host an intimate dinner party, or, when I cannot, I provide menus for my mother and father for their various gatherings at Prince Estate. My mother knows about my homosexuality and accepts it, while my father is indifferent to it, due to his inability to understand the Wizarding World. I have traveled extensively throughout Europe, and have been to each of the wizarding schools at least once. I am on good terms with each of their potion masters, and we will frequently compare notes on experiments, cultivations, curriculum, and other findings, questions, or concerns we may have. And, right now, I find myself utterly and completely captivated by a young man who is about to graduate from university and, despite the fact that he doesn't know how to spend his time, I do hope he will spend a significant amount of it with me, due to my inability to continue to keep myself away from him."

Harry stared at Severus, too shocked to speak for a handful of moments. No one, in the entirety of his life, had ever opened up so completely to him anymore, and it was a bit overwhelming for him, especially that last bit. However, he was pleased to see that he and Severus appeared to be on the same page. He couldn't even consider what he would do if the man rejected him a second time. He had been a wreck for days, internalizing the pain, not wanting to come out of his shell, and Ron and Hermione had been so worried about him. He suddenly realized that they didn't know where he was, and he shook his head.

"My friends..."

"I instructed Casper to inform them that you were with me," Severus replied.

Harry pulled his lips inwards then, in an effort to stifle a laugh. "I think you know that his name is 'Colin', Severus," he said, reprimanding him gently.

Severus smirked. "Yes. Please pardon me for my brief foray into immaturity."

Harry and Severus came to stand at the top of a hill, and Harry gasped aloud at the sheep which seemed to dot every surface of the field below. "Sheep!" he crowed.

Severus chuckled as he came up behind him. "Those are Jacob sheep, and they're bred here in the park," he explained. "Would you care to take a closer look?"

Harry turned and faced Severus. "Can we?"

"Yes, of course. I am on good terms with the gentleman in charge," he explained, putting his arm around Harry and guiding him down the hill. As they approached a fenced-in area, Severus smiled at the man. "Tim," he said.

"Ah, Severus," said the man in an East London accent, holding out his hand, which Severus quickly moved to grasp. "Friend of yers, then?" he asked, nodding to Harry.

"Precisely. This is Harry," Severus explained. "Harry, this is Tim. He's looking over some of the new lambs."

"Would yer like to meet 'em, son?" Tim asked.

"I would," Harry said, immediately nodding his head.

Tim nodded, opening the kissing gate at the front of the fenced-in area, and motioned for Harry and Severus to step through. "Come on, then. They're just about to 'ave their lunch. You can help feed 'em, if you like." Tim walked over into the small enclosure, and came out with several bottles in his hands. Handing two each to Harry and Severus, he knelt down in front of one of the lambs, who darted forward at the sight of the nipple, and proceeded to drink. "Go ahead, you two. They'll only bite yer if ya don't feed 'em."

Harry bent himself in half and held out the bottles; he gasped as two little lambs stumbled forward and proceeded to eat from them. He found he couldn't take his eyes away from their beautiful faces and, once they'd finished, Harry was permitted to pet them. They grew quite attached to Harry, and Harry was sorry to leave them behind. However, he was assuaged when Tim said they were welcome back anytime, and Severus said he would be sure to bring Harry back to see the lambs as they grew.

Harry and Severus continued walking throughout the park, up one path and down the other, until the sun began to dip slightly towards the trees. Turning to Severus, Harry said softly, "I should get back for dinner..."

"Will you join me?" Severus asked.

Harry blinked, warmth filling him quickly at the notion that this man wanted to spend more time with him. "I'd love to."

Severus nodded, taking Harry by the hand again and leading him back towards the castle. The Floo was utilized again, and they soon found themselves in the uppermost floor of what appeared to be an older building. Heading down the staircase, Harry was again shocked when Severus nodded to a maître d', who promptly showed them into a lavishly carpeted dining area, with white tablecloth-covered tables. Severus took the single red chair, while Harry slipped into the green booth, and they were promptly given menus. A waiter headed over to their table shortly thereafter, a smile on his face.

"Can I get either of you gentlemen started on some drinks?"

"I'll have a glass of Pinot, please," Severus replied.

"Very good, sir," the man said. "And for you, sir?" he asked Harry.

"San Pellegrino, please," Harry said softly.

"I'll be right back with those for you two," the waiter said, and slipped off to the bar, presumably to tell the bartender their drink orders.

"What looks appetizing to you, Harry?" Severus asked. "Please, get whatever you like."

"I've always been fond of chicken Milanese," he said quietly.

"Lovely," Severus said, waiting a few moments before shutting his menu. The waiter came by with their drinks shortly thereafter, and Severus began to order. "I'd like to begin with the white onion soup, the fillet of beef with the green leaf salad mixed with herbs for my entrée, and the frozen berries for dessert," he told the man, and handed over his menu. "Harry?"

Harry wetted his lip and stared down at the menu. "Yes, the white onion soup to start with as well, please. The chicken Milanese with the extra virgin olive oil mashed potato for my entrée, and the chocolate bombe for dessert, please," he said, and quickly handed over the menu to the waiter.

The waiter thanked them for their orders and whisked himself away to put them in, before servicing other customers throughout the dining room. Harry remained silent, straightening his napkin in his lap, and barely looking up as he sipped his sparkling water.

"Are you all right?"

Harry sighed. "It's just... The last time we sat down like this somewhere, you told me that you weren't the right man for me, and that I should stay away from you..."

Severus reached out then, taking Harry's hand. "I apologize," he said, running the pad of his thumb over Harry's knuckles. "I was afraid that I would be everything you didn't need."

"What if you're exactly what I need?" Harry whispered back.

Severus was about to reply when their soups arrived, and he gently let go of Harry's hand. They ate their soups in virtual silence, as they did their entrées, but Severus found that he couldn't take his eyes off Harry as his companion ate his dessert. The chocolate bombe was the dessert that the restaurant was known for, and his lips systematically became smeared with both chocolate and caramel sauce, making Harry good enough to eat.

"What do you say about returning to my home?" Severus asked, his tone husky.

Harry nodded. "I would be amenable to that," he said softly.

Severus called for the bill as they finished their desserts, and they journeyed back upstairs to utilize the Floo. Coming out on the other side of Severus's living room, Harry was surprised when the man didn't take him straight upstairs, and instead brought him over to the sofa. Harry willingly sat, staring across at the man, confused.

"I mentioned that we had to have a serious discussion."

Harry nodded, remembering. "Yes."

"I want to be utterly open with you about my likes and dislikes within the boundaries of the bedroom, Harry. I want us to be on the same page."

Harry straightened up then. "I understand."

"Good," Severus said quietly. "First and foremost, you know that I have a past. I am not a virgin, as previously stated."

Harry nodded. "I understand," he repeated.

Severus took ahold of Harry's hands and squeezed them. "I don't wish to frighten you, but I like it rough in the bedroom, Harry."

Harry's brows knit together. "Rough?"

"Rough. My sex, I mean. I like it rough. Kissing, as demonstrated earlier; oral, and anal. I like it rough, as in hard and fast. I never intend to deliberately hurt people, but, sometimes, partners can get caught up in the moment. However, if pain happens during, and we both enjoy it, then it is just something to potentially add to the repertoire. As for afterwards, if the other person wishes to be healed, I will do so, no questions asked. I like being called 'Severus' in the bedroom; I don't have a kink for being 'potions master Snape' behind closed doors."

Harry nodded. "Go on."

"Whenever I sleep with someone, I want to have common ground with them. Common ground entails the potential to have intelligent conversations, as well as similar upbringings or hobbies, which will make it better to understand one another. I also don't take sleeping with someone lightly, and I usually see some kind of future with them, which can entail a number of things. As for the relationship side of things, we are partners, and while I am always the top—which is non-negotiable—we are equals. I demand fidelity and complete monogamy from anyone I decide to sleep with, and I never pursue anyone who may have other romantic attachments. If, for some reason, the agreement is no longer feasible, then we part ways amicably." Severus peered closer at Harry, who had hardly said anything. "Do you understand?"

Harry swallowed. "I... I understand..."

"That's good, Harry, very good," he told him. "I also have to know about your sexual history. I will request that you be seen by my healer to ensure that you don't have any underlying conditions, and we will seek to cure or treat them if such things are found. I also need to know what you are and aren't all right with in the bedroom, because I would hate to make you uncomfortable in any way. One word from you, Harry, and I'll stop. I don't want to make this difficult for you..."

"It... It's not difficult, per se," Harry whispered.

"Harry, Harry, look at me," Severus said, tilting Harry's chin up. "It's all right. No need to be embarrassed about what you may have liked or not liked in the past. I've heard and experienced many things throughout my life, and I would never make you feel ashamed about something so intimate as that. I want us to be open with one another, so open that we can discuss this, and get through this, together."

Harry nodded, feeling as if his time with Severus was limited. "I... I know that, and I'm sorry, Severus, but I don't have an answer for you..."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"I don't have an answer for you, because I wouldn't know."

Severus stared at Harry, his eyes widening as the words washed over him. "What are you saying here, Harry?" he whispered. "Surely, even someone like you know what you like and don't like in the bedroom..."

"Someone like me?" Harry asked, chuckling slightly, shaking his head. "No. I wouldn't know because I... I haven't..."

Severus's eyes widened further then. "You're still a virgin?"

Harry nodded. "I'm... I'm sorry..."

"No need to apologize, Harry, but you do realize that everything I've told you..."

"Put a Fidelus on our conversations if you must, Severus, but I wouldn't tell anyone about what we do together regardless. As for what you told me, I had no way of knowing what you were going to say to me..."

"You've done other things, though, right?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head. "No. Ginny... Ginny tried to kiss me once, but she was still with Dean. I came out to her immediately, and she never tried that again. Today... When you kissed me today, that was the first time I'd done anything..."

Severus nodded, knowing just how correct Harry was. Letting go of his hands, Severus reached upwards to cup Harry's face, something stirring within him at the notion that Harry so readily leaned into him. "Where have you been?" he whispered.

"Waiting," Harry whispered back.

Severus shook his head. "Men must throw themselves at you..."

Harry shook his head on his own that time. "Never one I've wanted..."

Severus closed the distance between them then and kissed Harry, much gentler than he'd done that morning, and Harry felt his insides—which had been warm throughout the day—suddenly ignite with a sensation of burning desire. He hadn't known what wonderful feelings such things from Severus would evoke through him, and he found that he could see himself growing addicted to the man's touch, if he wasn't already.

Suddenly, Severus moved back and away from him and got to his feet, tangling his hand into Harry's and pulling him up as well. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"To deal with this situation," Severus replied, his voice husky, as it had been at the restaurant earlier that night.

Harry blinked, stumbling to keep up with Severus as they veered towards the staircase. "I'm a situation?" he wanted to know.

Severus remained silent as he brought Harry into his bedroom, the master bedroom, a room that Harry hadn't seen yet. Guiding him inside slowly, he lit the room with his wand so that the lighting was intimate, and stood in the center of the room with him. Turning around and facing Harry in the rose-tinted light, he went to his knees in front of him, and slowly unlaced his shoes, taking care whilst pulling off his socks. Next, his fingers raised upwards and unbuttoned the fastenings upon Harry's trousers, and Harry felt his prick jumping at the attention. As Severus lowered Harry's trousers, he pressed his lips to his toned abdomen, and Harry threw back his head, a groan escaping his lips before he could call it back, his eyes subsequently rolling back into his head.

Gently, Severus eased him backwards so that he was sitting at the foot of his bed, and pulled the trousers off from his legs. He dragged his callused and potion-stained fingers up Harry's muscled legs, and Harry clenched his teeth to prevent himself from crying out with desire. Staring at Harry, Severus reached out and made to pull his shirt over his head, and Harry complied, putting his arms up to accommodate him. He flushed as Severus stared so openly at his chest, before he leaned in and met their lips again. As they kissed, Severus dragged and dragged his hands gently along the skin of Harry's back, and Harry promptly arched up against him.

Severus pulled back then, slowly, so as his eyes locked with Harry's, before he dipped his head downwards and found a particularly sensitive area upon Harry's neck. Pressing his mouth there, he slowly permitted it to open, teasing Harry's untouched flesh with his tongue, and slightly nipping at it with his teeth. This time, Harry couldn't hold back his groan as his head moved itself backwards of its own accord, delighting in the ambiances that Severus seemed to evoke from him so easily. Maneuvering Harry backwards, Severus pushed himself back upwards and tossed his robes to the other side of the room, and proceeded to unbutton the white button-down he wore, that seemed to awaken every fantasy Harry had ever had. Slowly, with each button popping out of place, the man dropped the shirt to the ground and started on his trousers, making quick work of them, before he stepped out of his shoes and socks. He was then left, standing at the foot of the bed, wearing nothing but black silk boxers, which caused Harry's cock to rise even further for the occasion, especially when they were discarded, and Harry felt amazed at how large Severus Snape truly was.

Harry swallowed, watching Severus's every move as he moved up the bed, his hands coming out to slowly drag the green boxers—which left little to the imagination, as his cock was pressed up against the fabric and leaking—down Harry's legs, still toned from Quidditch. Leaning down, following the boxers as they left Harry's legs, Severus tossed them away somewhere, and pressed his lips to the arch of Harry's foot, his ankle, his inner knee, his thigh, and repeated the process, before coming back up again. Facing Harry, he licked at the seam of his lips, and Harry readily opened up for the man, arching up against him once more.

"I'm going to taste you," Severus declared, going downwards on the bed once more, and licked the tip of Harry's cock with his tongue.

Harry bucked, moaning, and moved his hand towards his lips. "Oh, fuck, Severus..."

Severus smirked against his leg. Lowering his head further, Harry let out a squeak of surprise when the man gently parted the cheeks of his arse, and ran his tongue up and around the wrinkled furl there. He gently pressed down onto Harry's legs, so as to prevent Harry from inadvertently kicking him in the face. "It's all right," he whispered, the sensation of Severus whispering just so close to his arsehole, as well as the warmth in response to the coolness of the man's saliva was nearly his undoing.

Harry permitted himself to grow used to the sensations, his eyes continually rolling back in his head as Severus speared his tongue, permitting it to go inside the ring of muscles and taste at the velvet insides that was Harry Potter. Biting hard upon his tongue to keep himself from crying out, he was barely aware of Severus summoning a tub of lubricant, but watched avidly as the man prepared his fingers in order to stretch Harry. The first was a trial, but the second went in accordingly, and then the third made him squirm again, especially when he considered what was to come afterwards.

"I'll not hurt you, Harry," Severus whispered, dragging his free hand along Harry's abdomen. "I assure you, you will be pleased."

Harry nodded his head, spreading his legs further when Severus gently pressed them apart, and watched as the man withdrew his fingers and began slicking his erection. "Merlin, you're big," he breathed.

"Just relax," Severus whispered back.

Severus positioned himself opposite Harry's arsehole, and slowly guided himself inside. He told Harry to bear down around him, so as to minimize the pain, and Harry listened to each and every word the man said. Severus waited until Harry seemed used to his admittedly impressive girth, before he canted his hips back and forth. He was amazed when Harry, after growing used to it, wrapped his legs around Severus's torso, and placed his palms onto Severus's shoulders to gain more leverage. Severus couldn't believe how compatible they were, and Harry's chants of "harder", "faster", and "Merlin, Severus!" told him that he was doing a halfway decent job at taking Harry's virginity.

Harry came first, splattering his stomach with a healthy amount of semen, and Severus was awed at how erotic it was to see Harry come. When Severus groaned and collapsed, filling Harry, he moved so as he wouldn't smash him. He casted a Cleaning Charm upon them and pulled Harry flush against him, feeling bone tired. Harry's breathing evened out shortly thereafter, meaning that Severus could no longer feel guilty if he himself succumbed to sleep.

~*~

Harry awoke the following morning and found that he was tender but not extremely so in his arse, and moved to get out of bed. Finding that he was hungry, he made a grab for Severus's outer robe and draped it over his body, before stealing out of the bedroom and going quickly down the stairs. As it was a Sunday, he was not surprised not to see Orlee about, given that most witches and wizards gave their house-elves time off on that day. Smiling to himself, Harry puttered into the kitchen, searching the pantry, and decided to make breakfast for Severus, to thank him for such a lovely time.

Gathering together the ingredients for the pancakes Molly Weasley had made for him, Ron, and everyone else while they were in school—and still to this day—he charmed the Wizarding Wireless to work. Celestina Warbeck pumped out into the kitchen, the jazz inspiring to Harry as he mixed the batter together. Once he got the griddle hot enough, Harry layered the batter onto it in perfectly symmetrical circles. In another pan, rashers of bacon were cooking as well, and he had already made up a platter of sliced fruit.

"'Mix a pinch of spice with a dash of charm, and a sprinkling of romance, they're why my cauldron is full of hot, strong love, is worth it, take the chance!'" Harry sang. "'Oh, come and stir my cauldron, and if you do it right, I'll boil you up some hot, strong love...'"

"'To keep you warm tonight,'" said a voice on the other side of the room.

Harry gasped, turning around them, and facing Severus. "Hi," he said.

"Good morning," Severus replied, slipping into a seat at the kitchen table. "Did you sleep well last night, Harry?"

"Hmmm," Harry replied, flashing the man a smile and finishing up the cooking. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Very," Severus replied.

"Because I've made pancakes and rashers," he said, banishing the platter of fruit onto the table and watching Severus. "I hope you don't mind..."

"Mind? Why would I mind?" Severus asked, lifting up a slice of peace. "I like a partner who takes initiative in the mornings."

Harry chuckled at that, finishing the breakfast preparations and putting everything onto the plates he found in the cupboards. Laying them out on the table, he watched as Severus summoned butter, honey, maple syrup, and berries that Harry hadn't previously sliced up. Harry put butter and syrup onto his cakes, while Severus used the honey and the berries. After eating the pancakes, which Severus loved, they started on their bacon. Noticing the grease dripping from his fingers afterwards, Harry stuck his thumb into his mouth.

Severus, watching, banished the dishes into the sink to wash themselves, before he reached out and took ahold of Harry's other hand. Opening his own mouth, Severus wiped his tongue over the pad of Harry's greasy finger, and Harry couldn't stop the giggle escaping his lips from the sensation. "Could I persuade you to join me for a bath?" Severus asked, and Harry nodded.

Leading the way, Severus took Harry into the en suite of the master bedroom, and pulled off the outer robe that Harry had borrowed from him. Severus charmed the bath to go on to an appropriate temperature, and climbed into it with Harry, once he had undressed. Pulling Harry so that he was lying against his stomach, he dragged his hands up and down Harry's body, as if memorizing it, like he had done the night before. He washed Harry's hair, but wouldn't permit Harry to wash his own, and wrapped Harry up in a towel.

"Happy?" he asked.

Harry grinned at him. "Yes," he replied.

Guiding Harry back into the bedroom, Severus lay Harry down upon the surface of the bed. "I want you to keep your hands up. Can you do that for me?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Make yourself comfortable," Severus told him, before kneeling in front of him, and taking Harry's already half-hard erection into his mouth.

"Fuck," Harry whispered, the expletive tearing through his lips like a prayer, as he arched up to meet Severus's sinful lips. Harry was so engrossed, he didn't hear the Floo flaring in the living room, nor the subsequent pop, which could have only been Orlee. It was when the indistinct conversation filtered into the bedroom that Severus stopped and listened, swearing underneath his breath.

"It's all right," he told Harry. "I'll be back."

Harry leaned up on the bed, watching as the man dressed himself and left the bedroom. Harry walked over to the door, hearing the conversation, and was shocked to discover that it was none other than Eileen Snape, Severus's mother. Smiling to himself, Harry was pleased to find another new set of clothes for him, and dressed as hastily as Severus had, before making his way out of the room and down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep schedule, Severus," Eileen Snape said as Harry moved down the staircase, "but you know how I worry. You are an only child, and if you miss your Sunday brunch with me, I tend to worry..."

"Mother, please. I've been hard at work on some research, and I couldn't help but sleep a bit later today..."

"Morning," Harry said, stepping into the living room.

"Oh! Oh, Merlin," Eileen said, smiling at Harry in a moment of shock.

"Mother, Harry Potter. Harry, meet my mother, Eileen Prince-Snape," he said formally, looking altogether pleased that Eileen looked pleased.

Eileen promptly put out her hand, which Harry shook. "You have no idea how delighted I am to meet you," she said warmly.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Snape," Harry said quickly, returning her smile.

"Eileen," she said promptly, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders as they moved closer towards Severus. "He's very handsome... You're very handsome," Eileen declared.

"Oh, well, thank you, Eileen," Harry said, chuckling slightly.

"Pardon me, Master Severus," Orlee said, stepping into the room again, "but there is a Floo call for Master Harry."

Harry looked up at Severus, not knowing the protocol.

"It's all right," Severus said quickly. "Go and see who it is."

"You must come to the estate for dinner, Harry," Eileen said as Harry moved towards the room where the Floo was kept.

"Thank you, Eileen," Harry said, and stepped into the sitting room, where he could clearly make out Ron and Hermione's faces in the flames. "Hey, you two," he said.

"Blimey, mate! We were just about to call Tonks and the rest of them!" Ron shouted, his voice tinged with worry.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "You're there now, right? You're at Master Snape's?"

Harry nodded. "I am."

"'Mione, of course he is. Given that we called his Floo... Oi!" he shouted, presumably after being smacked by his girlfriend.

"But, you're all right, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I am. I can't stay long, but I'll be back to the flat tonight."

"I'll put a roast on," Hermione said quickly. "Ronald, write me a shopping list."

"But, 'Mione, I don't know how to—"

Hermione smacked him again. "Surely after being raised by someone as proper as Molly Weasley, you know how! Go!" she said firmly, and Ron left the connection. "Harry, what happened?" she whispered. "After you disappeared at The Leaky..."

"I'll talk to you both about it later," Harry said in a rush, wondering just how much he would be permitted to tell Ron and Hermione.

"Colin said that Master Snape came and took you away, and that you were ill..."

Harry sighed. "Did Colin happen to mention that he made a pass at me, which included an attempt at a snog?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he didn't. But he'll be hearing from me about it, no matter what you say, Harry Potter!"

Harry sighed, nodding his head. "I know, 'Mione," he replied.

"So, we'll see you for dinner?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded, turning to see Severus, who was standing on the threshold of the room, not taking his eyes off him. "Yes," Harry told her. "See you later," he said quickly, cutting the call and the connection, before getting to his feet, and walking over to the man.

"They were checking up on you?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. They tend to do that."

Severus smirked. "They'll likely think I've kidnapped you."

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I have you until dinner hour, then?"

Harry moved back and forth upon the balls of his feet. "I suppose so."

Severus nodded, looking Harry up and down for a moment. "Do you feel up to going upstairs and trying what we were doing previously again?"

Harry smiled slowly at the man. "I do," he replied. He let out a yelp as Severus suddenly lifted him, in a manner most effortless, and carried him up the stairs, smiling along to Harry's laughter, although he would never admit to it.