Severus sat in the disconcertingly redecorated Headmistress' office and sipped his tea, amused to find that Minerva had not yet managed to wrangle out of Albus the secret to making everyone's perfect cup of tea. "I just wanted to thank you again for agreeing to loan me Albus' portrait. It has made a huge difference in the success of my Courtship."

"I saw the article," said Minerva, tapping this morning's Prophet where it lay on her desk. "You're moving up in the world, second page."

"I do not believe anyone foresaw that both Potter and Malfoy would agree to allow me a second chance to court them," said Severus with a small, triumphant smile. "You certainly gave me good advice in that regard."

"Speaking of favours," said Minerva, taking a sip of her own tea and making a face, "I have one to ask of you."

"You know I am indebted to you more than I can possibly repay, and not just from these most recent kindnesses," said Severus wryly. He'd been expecting this since the invitation arrived with his morning owl.

"I have a bit of a house elf problem," she said, setting her cup aside with a sigh. "It seems that the elf that Potter freed from the Malfoys has taken a particular interest in me."

"Normally one would consider this a good thing," said Severus, eyebrow raised. He'd spoken to Draco about the elf, once Winky had left Hogwarts with Minerva's blessing to go to serve Draco, ecstatic to once again have a master and proper loyalties.

Minerva winced. "I'm afraid that Dobby is no normal house elf," she said, glancing around the room.

Severus followed her eyes, finding odd spots of disarray here and there where things had been rearranged according to some aesthetic that didn't quite work with the rest of the tidy room. "I can see that. Perhaps Albus got him into some bad habits?"

"From what I can tell, it was Potter, actually," she said, doing a small spell over her tea to remove the offending additives, leaving a dark, steaming brew in the cup. "The tea, for instance, is just how he likes it no matter who is being served."

"Ah," said Severus, mind racing. "Perhaps we can benefit each other, then," he said. "Call the elf."

"I knew I could count on you," she said, picking up a small bell in the shape of a Quidditch broom, the tiny Snitch inside tinkling merrily against the sides.

Severus sat back and smiled, waiting for Dobby to appear.

---

Draco sat curled in front of Severus' fire, the ribbon in the book of essays nearly at the end by now. "Should I be put out that Harry got an invitation to dine with you here, and I didn't?" he asked teasingly.

Severus looked up from where he'd been doing his accounts and said, "You have a standing invitation to dine with me here. I should think the occasion deserves somewhere a bit more special."

Draco flushed with pleasure; he hadn't really known if his welcome was truly that open until just now. "The bedroom, perhaps?" he teased. "It's nearly standard practice nowadays to try before you buy."

"And risk disappointing you before our wedding night?" replied Severus with equal humour, eyes glinting darkly.

"I was gratified to get first position, anyway," said Draco, dragging his mind out of Severus' trousers and back onto the subject at hand. "Harry's second, then Gaerwn, Trimble, and Frumple, right?"

"Correct, with Malkin and Lenis at the end. Lenis will think that I am saving the best for last, Malkin will be relieved to have an easy out, and the others shall be quite content, I think, to share the middle slots after our two celebrities," said Severus, setting his quill aside and stretching. "Is there a point to all of this? I have to be sure I can afford everyone's gifts and a weekend in the country without taking extra commissions."

"Not really, sorry, I... did you consider offering Trimble a potions contract for his gift? It's a bit unusual, but you could brew all his potions at cost for the duration of the Courtship, and then you wouldn't lose or gain," said Draco, fiddling with the book's ribbon. Mostly, he'd been feeling ignored, and wanting a bit of reassurance, not to mention fishing to find out what his own gift was, or what Severus had up his sleeve in regards to their tea. The invitation had asked Draco to meet Severus at a common Apparition point, and left him unendingly curious.

Severus paused. "That is an idea, though I'd have to do a bit more research before I did, lest I trap myself into doing nothing but his potions and no profit to show for it."

Draco chuckled. "I have no doubt whatsoever that you'll manage, they're not exactly hiding the fact that they're looking for a new supplier."

"True, true," said Severus. "Still, I have a number of social obligations between now and then which may prevent changing my plans so drastically."

"Ooh, this means you've already got my gift, and Harry's," said Draco; their tea was tomorrow, today being the single day of grace given to the Petitioner between the two portions of the second round of Courtship.

"And tomorrow you shall find out what yours is, and likely Harry's the day after," said Severus dryly, his tone carrying the same reprimand it had as a teacher when he'd caught Draco trying to win special favours he hadn't earned.

Draco pouted.

---

Draco had ceased pouting by the time he arrived at the coordinates in Severus' invitation, a nondescriptly picturesque Apparition point in some random English village. He smoothed his robes nervously, hating that he felt this way when Severus was supposed to be the one wooing him. He told himself what a catch he was, and that he could always console himself with seducing Harry or Gaerwn once all was said and done, but in reality he was starting to admit to himself that he'd never truly stopped wanting Severus since he was a boy. He'd just grown up about it a little more.

"I see Harry is not the only one of you with form-fitting robes," said Severus dryly, stepping out from under the shadow of a nearby tree. "I approve wholeheartedly."

Draco laughed. "I thought I'd see if I could convince you to revisit my bedroom idea," he teased, though in all honesty he was intrigued by Severus' refusal to give away any details of their tea.

"I have a different idea in mind," said Severus, stepping forward. "If I may?"

Draco gave him an accusatory look. "You'd intended to Apparate us somewhere else all along!"

"Of course," said Severus with a smile. He held out his hand, pulling Draco into a warm embrace when he took it. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise."

There was the sickening feeling of Apparition, and then they were in front of a place that Draco could have recognized in his sleep. "We're having tea at Hogwarts?" said Draco disbelievingly.

"The Headmistress has kindly allowed me to use the Slytherin common room, as classes are out for the summer, as well as loaned me the services of the Hogwarts house elves, who welcomed the chance to show off for two former residents of the castle," said Severus, tucking Draco's hand into the crook of his elbow. "Shall we?"

Draco looked up at Severus and felt a wave of longing; he'd never been back here, not since that night that they'd fled, and though he'd recovered some of his possessions through various channels, he'd always felt something was missing. "You really are a manipulative bastard," said Draco, going up on his toes to brush a soft kiss over Severus' cheek, then starting off on the long road up to the castle.

"There was much lost to us that night," said Severus quietly, taking the lead after a moment, "and I have always regretted that so much of your youth went with it."

Draco smiled softly and spent the rest of the walk in silence, collecting himself so he didn't end up acting like a big girl. "Will the Headmistress be joining us for tea?" he asked as they approached the doors, which swung wide just as Severus' boot touched the step.

"I'm afraid not," said McGonagall from the open doorway. "It's good to see you both, but I wouldn't intrude on your Courtship that way." She stepped back to allow them to enter. "The password is 'reconstruction' for the Slytherin dormitories, and 'moorlands' for my office. I expect you two will want to use my Floo, as the rest are closed for the summer." Draco was amused at the implied order to check in before they left, and say goodbye.

"Thank you, Minerva," said Severus with a little bow. He laid a hand over Draco's and smiled warmly down, an expression of sorrow sliding away behind his black eyes as if it had never tried to surface. "Shall we?"

Draco swallowed, then nodded. "Thank you for allowing this, Headmistress," he said, bowing to McGonagall as well.

"You're both quite welcome," she said with a smile, turning to the stone gargoyle outside her office. "Moorlands. I'll see you when it's time to go!"

The gargoyle moved aside and she was gone before Draco could think of a rejoinder, so he let Severus lead him through familiar halls and back into the haunts of his youth. "How did you... I mean..."

"The opportunity to visit that came with borrowing Albus' portrait meant enough to me that it seemed a luxury I ought to share," said Severus, answering the question Draco hadn't known how to ask.

"If you don't watch out, I'll start to think you really like me," said Draco as they rounded a corner to see a familiar blank wall of stone. "Reconstruction!"

A stone door hidden in the wall slid open, and Draco had to fight down what was sure to be one of many bouts of nostalgia. Severus gestured that Draco should precede him, and it was as if no time at all had passed, at least at first. After a moment he noticed that two of the portraits had been replaced, as well as the rug in the corner with the mysterious stain that had driven the house elves spare. He swallowed the first dozen things that came to mind, turning to see the same hungry expression on Severus' face that he was sure graced his own. "Was it like this when you were a student?" he asked.

"There are differences," said Severus, a hand coming to rest on Draco's shoulder, "but they aren't so much, compared to the rest."

Draco smiled softly. "No," he said, "I suppose they're not."

"I was here last week, visiting Minerva to tell her how the gallery showing went," said Severus, guiding Draco to the chairs by the fire, spots reserved for the very best of the seventh years, in Draco's day. "It was then that I was given an opportunity to acquire your gift," he said, gesturing. In one of the chairs sat a silver gift box with a green snake ribbon twining around it restlessly.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," said Draco, touching the ribbon gently. It sensed that this was true and fell away, coiling itself in the chair, and Draco lifted the lid away from the box and peered inside curiously.

He gasped, all thoughts of his own image gone as he lifted the battered toy out of its nest of green paper. The plush dragon had ceased moving years ago, though it had still smoked up through his third year, and one of the eyes had gone missing and never been replaced, though the other glittered just as black as ever. There was a subtle preservation charm on it, but it was otherwise just as it had been when he'd hidden it away at the start of term his sixth year, just as he had at the start of term every year since he'd discovered the magical cubby in his first.

"It was all of yours I was able to recover; the rest of your hiding places were found, but this one thing was overlooked," said Severus softly, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "It isn't much, but I felt it was time you remembered that there was more to your life than dark or light, and at one time you were a boy who loved his father very much."

Draco blinked stinging eyes and turned to Severus, holding the squashy thing to his chest despite the years of dirt still accumulated on the surface. "I forgot that you were there when he gave it to me," said Draco quietly, referring to one of Severus' few visits to the Manor. It hadn't done for a Malfoy to be seen with a mere school teacher too often, but on that day Draco had learned his colours and been rewarded with the green dragon, who he had promptly named Lucius Vert and dragged around by its tail for years afterward.

Severus pulled Draco into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a gesture Lucius had set aside when Draco was six. "We will let the love of our children be first before all other ambitions," said Severus, a serious vow to make here in the heart of wizarding ambition.

Draco held on and just barely managed to pull himself together, then held on some more for the simple joy of being close to Severus. After many minutes had passed, Severus ran gentle fingers down his cheek and said, "I believe there is tea to be had, if you're able?"

Draco smiled up at him, then stole a proper kiss just because he could. "Now I'm ready," he said impishly, though he didn't let go of Severus just yet.

There was, after all, plenty of time.

---

Harry Flooed to Snape's house wearing the colour-changing robes, which Draco had declared formal enough for afternoon tea. They proved their worth as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace, turning a sooty black until Harry had a chance to do the simple spell he'd finally learned to clean himself off, then lightening slowly to a soft chocolate brown that went well with Snape's parlour.

The floors were wood, dark with age and matching the mouldings and bookshelves, even the furniture, all in complex shades of brown. There were rugs scattered about the room, made of braided rags and looking nearly as old as the flooring, all colour lost to time until they were a warm, gently mottled grey. The chairs were upholstered in brown leather studded with brass rivets, and the bookshelves were a comparative riot of colour, filled with neat rows of books in all shapes and sizes. Sunlight streamed in from windows along one wall, muted slightly by the sheer curtains fluttering in the summer breeze.

Snape had a desk in one corner, cleared of all papers and neat as a pin, and the man himself emerged from one of the shadowed doorways before Harry could get more than these impressions. Harry's attention was drawn to Snape, and their surroundings became far less important as Snape smiled in a way that, were it not utterly ridiculous, he might even have called shy. "Welcome to my home, Po- Harry."

Harry grinned, inordinately pleased to find that their first-name basis wasn't only for show after all. "Thank you, Severus. It's really nice in here, very warm," he said, stepping forward though he honestly had no idea what the proper greeting might be. "Inviting."

Snape looked just as awkward as Harry felt for a moment, then extended his hand for Harry to shake. "Not everywhere can be a dungeon," said Snape, and it took Harry a moment to realize he was joking.

Harry shook, then spread his hands wide to show they were empty. "I would have brought a guesting-gift, but Malfoy said it's not done. I guess you'll just have to wait until the end of the Courtship."

"And by then," said Snape with a wry quirk to his lips, "all this could be yours."

Harry laughed as he hoped he was meant to. "Well, in that case, oughtn't you give me the grand tour?"

Snape looked taken aback for a moment, then he shrugged and smiled. "If you're interested, yes, though in all honesty if we were to be married, I'd expect we'd want to find somewhere larger."

"For the, er, kids," said Harry, swallowing. Though a part of him was fascinated by the idea of family and fatherhood, a much larger part was still appalled by the idea of becoming pregnant, not to mention all the difficulties that being a parent would entail after the birth.

"Well, you will see. This is very much a bachelor's home at this point," said Snape, gesturing for Harry to precede him back through the doorway he'd emerged from.

The door led to a dim hallway, the dark floor polished and shining in what light there was from the sconces on either leaf-patterned wall. "The water closet is here," he said, opening the first door on the left to reveal a truly cupboard-sized facility, scrupulously clean but otherwise wholly uninviting. He opened the next to reveal an even darker wooden staircase, narrow and steep and leading up to the second storey. "We'll go there next," he explained, leading Harry further down the hall.

"All right," said Harry, curious. There were two doors at the end of the hall, on either side. "That's the downstairs," said Snape, gesturing to the left even as he opened the right. "My potions lab is there, so I will spare you that."

Harry chuckled. "I don't know, you might be surprised at what I'm interested in, now that I've no one to yell at me about the perfect consistency of ground beetle eyes," he said, though truthfully he'd always been more interested in spells and magic artefacts than potions.

"This is the kitchen," said Snape, his voice holding every ounce of doubt he was obviously having to work very hard not to speak. "I do not have a dining room, so most meals are eaten here, though we will take tea in the parlour."

"Better than me, I don't even have a kitchen table," said Harry with a wry chuckle, thinking of the tiny kitchen of his flat. He'd magically expanded the bedroom closet to be Hedwig's home, hence his use of a wardrobe, but otherwise his flat was cramped and nearly barren of comforts.

"One gains more than wisdom as one ages, and furniture is no exception," said Snape wryly.

Harry laughed and looked properly around the small room, noting the neat block of knives, spotless counters, jars of labelled foodstuffs and even a bowl of fresh fruit. There was a suspiciously Muggle-looking stove and oven, plus a wide fireplace with a cauldron hanging to one side. The kitchen table reminded him sharply of the Weasleys, heavy and scarred but still with years of use left on it, and Harry had to smile when he realized the bowl of floating roses in the centre were likely an ingredient and not a decoration. "For me?" he said teasingly, walking over to caress one silky petal.

Snape got a slightly shifty look and said, "If you like," in such an offhand way that Harry revised his assumption.

Harry grinned. "I think they're lovely," he said, lifting one up to smell. The scent was sweet and delicate, but it was the colour that was likely the reason Snape had chosen them, fading from innocent white in the centre to blood red at the edges of the petals.

Snape coughed. "Yes, well, it was suggested the room needed something that wasn't entirely utilitarian."

Harry attached the rose to his lapel, and the robes turned a deep red that faded abruptly to white at his cuffs, collar and hem. "I expect they'll end up in a potion eventually, so I'll just rescue this one if you don't mind."

Snape didn't seem to know what to say to that, so instead he turned on his heel and led Harry back out into the hallway. "The upstairs is not generally suitable for guests, though it has been cleaned," warned Snape, which only made Harry more curious.

"Lead the way, then," said Harry with a gesture, smile widening when Snape's eyes flicked to the rose and back, as though trying to puzzle out just why Harry would want the thing in the first place.

He turned and went up the stairs, a pair of lamps at the top lighting themselves as Snape's foot hit the first step. "Have you considered what sort of a life you might want, if your feet ever stop wandering?" he asked, as casual as he could be with a question so obviously planned.

Harry's smile faded just a bit, and he sighed. "Not really, I mean... I'd like to have a family, I guess, and see my friends more. Live somewhere permanent, with a proper owlery for Hedwig and, I dunno. A job of some sort, so I don't go spare."

They got to the top of the stairs to reveal that the upper floor was mostly one big room, with a giant curtained bed in one corner and the rest of the space taken up with an extremely comfortable-looking chaise lounge in front of the fireplace, and a jumble of boxes nearly hiding the bookshelves along one wall. There was a wide window that didn't seem to look out over London at all, and an open door leading into a spacious bathroom that Harry could see even from there had been outfitted with a smaller version of the Prefect's bath, a low tub sunk impossibly into the floor with a dozen silver spouts shaped like snakes.

"I am afraid here is where you see how unsuitable I am for raising a child," said Snape, a painful honesty in his voice that made Harry's chest ache.

"Just because you don't have a bedroom all done up in yellow duckies doesn't mean you wouldn't love your child," said Harry, knowing that this was at the crux of things for him, if not for Snape. "You're making yourself a better life with this Courtship, and maybe you'll even come to love your husband or wife someday," he said, the last sounding a lot more wistful than Harry had intended.

Snape laughed bitterly, but seemed to take heart from Harry's statement anyway. "I suppose it is too much to hope for that they should love me back," he said darkly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, stepping up to Snape and laying his hand on one thin arm. "Draco already loves you in his way, and you've shown us all that there's more to you than your reputation or your cover as a spy."

Snape looked at Harry long enough that Harry was worried he'd put his foot in it for real this time and was about to be summarily kicked out. "I believe," said Snape softly, one hand coming up to touch Harry's cheek gently, "that that is the kindest thing anyone has said to me in years."

"I think it's past time you had a bit of kindness in your life," said Harry, then surprised them both by going on his tiptoes and kissing Snape softly, not the toe-curling kiss of earlier but a soft brush of his lips that held an entirely different sort of promise.

There was a moment of stillness as Harry lowered himself, then Snape blinked and it was over. "I think it's time for tea," said Snape wryly, though he couldn't seem to stop himself from brushing Harry's fringe back from his eyes with long, warm fingers. "Shall we?"

"Let's," said Harry, with a smile that he hoped conveyed his intention not to let the subject drop entirely. He glanced at the bed one last time as they left, wondering what it might be like to spend the afternoon in it with Snape, trying out the goods. Still, he'd held onto his virginity this long, he might as well keep saving himself, whether for marriage or something else entirely.

They went downstairs in comfortable silence, Harry trying to think of a better answer to Snape's question while Snape was lost in his own, unfathomable thoughts. Harry was surprised to see there was a tea all laid out, finger sandwiches and scones, pasties and biscuits and even a small cake, with a steaming pot of tea at the centre of it all. "Wow, how'd you manage this?" he asked, sitting on one end of the sofa and hoping Snape might choose to share it with him rather than take one of the two chairs closer to the fire.

"The answer to that," said Snape with a smirk, "is also your gift. Dobby!"

The familiar house elf popped in, wearing what was obviously a Snape-mandated uniform, a neat pair of black trousers and a crisp white shirt with a lightning bolt on the breast pocket, though even fear of Snape hadn't kept him from wearing brightly-coloured, mismatched socks. "Are those the socks we gave you back in school?" blurted Harry, the first thing that came to mind.

Dobby's grin grew wide and watery and he said fawningly, "Dobby is so happy that Harry Potter is remembering!"

Harry looked from Snape, now sitting next to Harry and looking insufferably smug, to Dobby, who seemed in danger of bursting from sheer joy, and back again. "Dobby," he asked suspiciously, "are you still working at Hogwarts?"

"Dobby is not!" said the elf excitedly. "Dobby is working for Harry Potter now, sir, and if Dobby is very good Professor Snape is thinking Harry Potter might take him as a proper elf again!" Dobby looked shiftily left and right, then said softly, "Dobby is growing a bit tired of freedom."

"Oh, Dobby," said Harry, though he manfully resisted any stray urge to hug the creature. "I'd love to have you as a proper elf, though I don't have a proper household yet, just a grotty old flat."

"Harry Potter is making Dobby very happy!" said Dobby, and he jumped up and down three times and disappeared.

"Er, I hope I haven't sent him away before he can do your dishes," said Harry, aware of but unable to stop the goofy grin on his face.

"I am sure I can manage either way," said Snape placidly. He handed Harry a cup of tea, which Harry was somehow unsurprised to find had been made just the way he liked it.

"Thank you," said Harry, taking a sip and finding it exquisite, a much finer quality of tea than he normally bought for himself. "So," he asked, nodding toward the spread, "did you buy more of those pasties from the restaurant, or learn to make them yourself?"

Snape smiled. "I bought them from the bakery that supplied the restaurant," he said, "and at a much greater discount. I find Courting to be a very expensive proposition."

Harry laughed as he seemed to be expected to, but there was a doubt gnawing at him. "You'll be all right once it's over, though, I mean... even Trimble seems well off enough that it won't matter if you're not flush."

"I am afraid that will very much be the case," said Snape, using his wand to load up two plates with food and floating them in front of them both, then scooting just a touch closer on the couch. "Though your gift has suddenly become less of a burden, not that a house elf's salary was much to begin with."

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly. "I remember when he had to argue D- the Headmaster down from a decent wage to something a house elf could accept." Harry took a bite of one of the pasties, washing it down with more of the excellent tea before adding, "I forgive you, you know. I didn't know if I could, but if Dumbledore could, then I can."

Snape blinked once, twice, and then shook his head. "That is almost more surprising than the kiss," he said quietly, then sipped his tea with great dignity, expression unreadable.

"If you forgive yourself, then all the people that matter will have done so," said Harry with an ironic little smile. "I'm sure you were just waiting with bated breath for my approval, after all."

Snape snorted, and they were back on familiar ground. "Indeed, Harry, it has been my devout wish for some time to have you vet all my prior bad acts as necessities of war."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "Yeah, right. We both know you yelled at Neville because you loved it."

They both laughed, though it held that edge that said Harry's words had cut too close to the truth and they were on very thin ice. They ate in silence for a while, nothing more than comments on the food or offers of a refill breaking the peace, until Harry felt he'd had a good meal and then some. "So, what else is supposed to happen? Malfoy wouldn't say."

"I am surprised you haven't been invited to use his first name," said Snape, obviously avoiding the question.

"Habit, I suppose. I only call you Severus because I keep thinking of how it would have made you cringe, back when I was the bane of your existence."

Snape shot Harry a darkly ironic look. "I believe you overestimate your position among the ranks of those who made my life difficult, but I do agree it would have caused all sorts of difficulty, back then."

"My little firstie voice piping up, 'Severus, what are the properties of henbane?' and you not being allowed to kill me and all," said Harry, imitating the higher tones of a boy of eleven.

"It is a good thing I wasn't planning on seducing you," said Snape, "as the thought of you at eleven is enough to put any man off."

Harry laughed, blushing madly. "Shouldn't I be the protesting maiden, anyway?"

"These days, it is often expected that a certain amount of exploration will take place between the Petitioner and those he Courts. A display of prowess, if you will," said Snape teasingly.

"As if I could tell the difference," said Harry with a laugh. "Ew, does this mean you have to bed Lenis?"

"As I have received no indication that I will be required to keep him in the next round, likely not. The rest of my teas are in more public locales, and the bed-hopping is expected to occur mainly during our weekend in the country," said Snape dryly.

Harry felt a bit scandalized, but he had to admit it was an intelligent solution in an era where Harry was likely the only virgin among the Courted, and considered odd for it even at the tender age of twenty-five. "So you'll, er, service everyone then? What if I, I mean..."

"It is not mandatory. I will allow those who wish to preview my bedroom skills to invite me into their rooms, and leave those who are inexperienced or less interested to sleep in peace," he said, then spoiled the gentleness of his explanation by adding, "Your virtue can remain intact until your wedding night."

Harry flushed, though he didn't argue the point. "I wonder if Malfoy will take the opportunity?"

Snape shrugged. "He visits me frequently these days, so if he wants to sample the goods, as it were, he need not wait until the arranged time for such things."

Harry was getting used to the flashes of envy that such revelations brought, so he made a joke of it in case it showed too much on his face. "Should I be jealous?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Only if you wish to eat steak and kidney pie in my kitchen or raid my library whilst I work on the endless rounds of correspondence dictated by the Courtship," said Snape dryly.

Harry grinned. "Well, I have learned to read, so perhaps I'll have to wheedle an invitation one of these days, or just tag along with Malfoy. You know you want us both in that big bed of yours, anyway," he said teasingly, trying to ignore the flare of heat that mental image sent to his groin.

"I believe you would prove too much to handle," said Snape dryly, though Harry hadn't missed the flash of interest in Snape's eyes.

"So, what is it that we still have to do that you're avoiding?" Harry asked, figuring Snape couldn't ignore such a challenge.

Snape smiled wryly and nodded his head. "I must ask if you intend to allow me to continue my suit, and then there will be nothing left to keep you here."

Harry smiled and scooted just a little closer to Snape, setting his cup on the floating saucer. "I'll just have to withhold my answer until you're tired of my company, then," he said with a little wink.

"I thought you didn't want to be seduced," said Snape, though he, too, leaned in a touch closer. "If you continue to look so delectable, I shall be forced to take another taste."

Harry swallowed. "Would you be able to stop at a taste?" he asked, his voice far too breathy and his mind replaying all the ribald jokes that Gaerwn had made about Snape and his skills.

"We shall see," said Snape hoarsely, and his lips descended onto Harry's. This kiss took Harry's inexperience and turned it into an asset, Snape leading Harry through each step from the first gentle brush to the passionate press of lips that eventually parted to allow their tongues to tangle. Snape tasted a little bit of tea and cream cake, but mostly Harry was thinking of how warm his mouth was, and how wet.

When they broke apart, Harry's lap had an obvious tent in it, and it took all of Harry's willpower not to look down to see if anything could be seen in the darkness of Snape's many-layered black robes. "That was a really good taste," said Harry with an undignified amount of enthusiasm. He attempted to marshal his mental arguments against asking Snape to see the bed from a much closer vantage, but Snape beat him to the punch.

"If you stay much longer, I will not be able to respect your wishes," said Snape, his voice quite hoarse and mouth looking bruised and red from the kiss, lips still damp and inviting. "Harry Potter, will you allow me to continue Courting you for the purpose of marriage and the raising of our heirs?" he asked formally, though he didn't lean entirely out of kissing range.

"I will if you kiss me one more time before sending me home," said Harry recklessly, driven by the thrumming desire in his blood.

Snape looked as though he might have groaned, if he allowed himself such foolish things, and one hand came up to cup Harry's cheek. "I would almost marry you for this," he whispered instead, a compliment that Harry took with a grain of salt, considering his own thoughts along those lines and their origin from a part of his anatomy rather lower than his brain, or heart.

"I'd almost let you," said Harry, brushing his lips over Snape's and feeling them catch against the moist skin.

Snape let out a soft sigh and drew Harry close in the circle of his arms and kissed him again properly. This kiss was shorter than the previous one, skipping the teasing preliminaries for a deeper and more thorough exploration of the myriad possibilities of tongues. Harry attempted to show what a good student he'd become, and got a slight nibble that he chose to take as approval given the lovely sensations it sent down his spine.

This time it was Harry who pulled back, more to save himself the embarrassment of coming in his pants than any desire to stop. "If you do the rest as good as you kiss," said Harry, nipping once at Snape's jaw just because he could, "then I'd be a fool not to marry you."

"Unfortunately for us," said Snape, pressing an oddly affectionate kiss to Harry's hair, "you have always been a bit foolish."

Harry laughed, letting some of the desire dissipate along with the other tensions. "I suppose that's true," he said, brushing his fingers over Snape's cheek and moving back just enough that he no longer felt quite so enveloped in Snape's warmth. "You always worked so hard to save me from my own idiocy, though, so I'll count on you this time as well."

Snape laughed at that, and the moment broke completely. "One kiss, one more round of Courting, as promised," said Snape teasingly. "Your elf has likely found your flat and begun terrorising the dust bunnies in your absence, so you'd best go before he charms your pants to sound the alarm if I compromise your virtue overmuch."

"Yes, Severus," said Harry with a singsong lilt to his voice. He kissed the tip of Snape's nose, something he'd wanted to do for ages, then got up and scooted swiftly over to the fire and out of arms' reach. "I'll expect that invitation for library raiding and kidney pie," he added, taking a handful of powder from the urn on the mantle.

"Only if you promise your owl won't seduce mine into early fatherhood," said Snape, looking flushed and kissable and ever so slightly mussed where he sat on the inviting expanse of leather couch.

"If she does, I'll just have to marry you and keep it in the family," said Harry impishly. He threw the powder and Flooed home, figuring a better exit line wasn't likely to present itself in his lifetime.

When he got there, the place already looked brighter in some indefinable way. "Dobby?" he called out tentatively.

"Dobby is being here in Harry Potter's home, Master Harry Potter, sir!" said Dobby, popping into visibility with an expression of utter delight. "Harry Potter is having very few things, but Dobby is taking good care of the things he has."

"That's wonderful, Dobby," said Harry. He tried to think if he had anything dangerous, precious or otherwise vulnerable to house elf tampering, but he left the dangerous stuff at the office, and his keepsakes were all safely packed away in a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. "There's a box in my wardrobe, leave that alone other than dusting, and you have free rein to clean anything else you like," he said. "Erm, do house elves need grocery money?"

Dobby giggled in a disconcertingly maniacal way. "Now that Dobby is having a proper Master again, shops will be always allowing Dobby to put purchases on credit, when Dobby cannot be conjuring what he needs."

Harry worked his way through Dobby's circuitous language and nodded. "That's great. Consult me before you buy any furniture or redecorate, but otherwise I'm sure you know what to do."

Dobby giggled again and bowed, then vanished. It wasn't until he disappeared that Harry realised Dobby was wearing Harry's one and only dish towel, the suit from Snape gone entirely. "Er, Dobby, did you promise to help Snape clean up after tea?" he asked the empty air, feeling like an idiot.

Dobby reappeared. "Dobby did! Dobby will be going to Severus Snape's straightaway once Master's house is being cleaned."

Harry chuckled. "Unless you've left things soaking in the tub, I think my flat can wait. You go help Severus and I'll, er, have a bath," said Harry. He hadn't considered the implications of his own increasing sexual frustration in terms of having a house elf around all the time.

"Yes, Harry Potter, Master, sir," said Dobby, clearly dubious. "Dobby is being back cleaning very soon!"

Fortunately for Harry, he didn't think it would take him very long to find relief, after those two glorious kisses. He snorted with amusement and headed to the bathroom, thinking of how his fifteen-year-old self would have reacted to the idea of having a wank over Snape. Of course, a decade ago he'd no idea the man was so skilled. He ran the bath and pondered other uses for the tongue that could be so wicked when cutting him down to size, for those fingers that had shown him a hundred potions, for the prick Harry had just glimpsed when Snape had shifted his hips as the fire flared and carried Harry away.

It definitely wouldn't take long.