Harry Potter approached the Head Table, his Valentine's gift in hand. Why the hell was he doing this again? He swallowed nervously as he stared ahead, looking at no one in particular. He couldn't…if he caught anyone's eye now, he knew in his bones that the thin tendril of courage that had gotten him this far would snap. Especially if he caught the eye of the object of his affections.

As he drew closer to his final destination (and didn't that just sum up how suicidal this was), he felt his breath coming in shallow gasps. Was he going to faint? That would definitely bury the needle on the humiliation gauge.

Students around the Great Hall were suddenly starting to take notice of his trek, and Harry swiped his sweating palms anxiously on his jeans. The gift swapped hands, tinkling alarmingly each time. Through sheer dumb luck, none of the professors at the Head Table had yet to notice his approach, despite the silence slowly sweeping over the House Tables. He took the three steps that led up to the Staff Table on legs that felt stiff as iron. He might actually pass out.

McGonagall looked at him and almost caught his eye before he turned to stare meaningfully at the Potions Master beside her. The man didn't look up, immersed in some ancient and dusty tome…totally unaware of the Seventh Year's presence. Minerva McGonagall, saint that she was, reached over and jabbed her elbow sharply into the Head of Slytherin's side.

Snape gave an uncharacteristic, short squawk of pain and glared at her moodily.

"What, Minerva?!" The man snarled.

The Head of Gryffindor cleared her throat delicately and darted her eyes in Harry's direction. Snape followed her glance and Harry very nearly did pass out when the black gaze bored into him suspiciously. Rather than embarrass himself further, the Gryffindor sucked in a deep breath and set his tiny package on the tabletop beside Snape's plate. He had to actually force his fingers to release the gift. He took a cautious step back, almost slipping off the top step, when Snape glared between him and the green-wrapped box.

"What-"

"Happy Valentine's," Harry blurted, much louder than he'd intended.

Any students or professors who hadn't already been staring in fascination turned now to give the odd exchange their full attention. Black eyes swept over the Great Hall in a dangerous glare that would normally have sent First Years running. Unfortunately, the tension was too great, and the situation too bizarre, for anyone to pay him any mind. Snape returned his gaze to the little box in front of him.

After a long, breathless moment (Harry thought perhaps the whole school was holding their breath for him) the Potions Master looked up into his hopeful green gaze.

"Very well, Mister Potter."

This was all he said before returning to his book. He didn't look up again as Harry stood there, stunned and more than a little heart-broken. He remained utterly oblivious, even when some of the bolder students began booing and hissing over the jeers from the Slytherin Table.

Harry slumped, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. Grand gesture, that's what Hermione had said…no one could turn down a grand gesture. All his work, all his planning…all for naught. He was clearly being dismissed, him and his feelings. Drawing a deep breath, the Gryffindor turned, head held high, and left the Great Hall.

Break

Harry shivered as he wandered the corridors. It was bloody cold in the castle. He stuffed his hands into his too large jeans and shrugged his shoulders up to cover his neck. He'd been wandering the castle since his humiliating rejection at Lunch. In part it was to avoid his friends, who wanted to commiserate (as if they could, since they were all paired up nicely for this stupid holiday), and in part because the Slytherins weren't even bothering to taunt him at this point, they just laughed whenever he passed by. So, using what he remembered from the Marauder's Map (there was no way he was going up to Gryffindor to get it) he was traversing disused corridors and "secret" passages, and so far it had worked. He hadn't run into anyone for at least an hour.

"Whoa!"

Harry was caught off-guard when the door he was passing opened and a hand reached out and dragged him inside of the dusty, unused classroom. The door shut again as he was pressed into the wall next to it. He scowled as he saw Snape leaning over him, smirking as if…Lunch…hadn't happened.

"Specially designed crystal vials filled with Dragon's Blood. You're setting quite the precedent for future Valentine's, Mister Potter," Snape whispered, leaning towards him.

Harry's scowl deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from the smug bastard pinning him against the wall. Without knowing why, he whispered as well. "I'm sure someone will come up with something better. What do you want?" He knew he was being disrespectful, but at this point he didn't care.

"I believe, Mister Potter, that you wished me a 'Happy Valentine's'," Snape muttered into his ear.

Harry scoffed, ignoring the shudder that rippled up his spine. "Yeah, and it made me a laughing stock. I'd ask if you're having your own private go at me, but you already did that when you said…what you said," He finished sourly.

Sharp fingers, gentle on his chin, forced his eyes up and around to stare into the fathomless black gaze.

"I said 'very well'."

Harry frowned in confusion. Then, suddenly, understanding crested over his features in a silent 'oh'. He blushed. "So, y-you meant-"

"Yes, Harry…" Snape hissed sensually. Thin fingers slid along his jaw to curl deftly in the hair at the back of his head, drawing him forward slightly. "Do you still want me to have a 'happy' Valentine's?"

Harry swallowed thickly and managed a short nod before insistent lips covered his, a warm tongue delving into his mouth. He couldn't stop a moan that escaped as a hand traced the contours of his spine, pulling him into a strong embrace. He slid his own hands up a toned chest, burying his fingers in feather-soft raven hair.

This was actually happening…He was kissing Severus Snape. He'd been struggling with his feelings for the changed man since last year. At first, he'd been confused, but the more he'd seen how much the Potions Master had changed after the fall of the Dark Lord, the more he'd come to understand these startling new emotions. The only problem was that Snape had gone from hating him to dismissing him almost entirely. It had taken months of talking to his friends (moping while they told him to do something or move on, really) and gathering his courage to finally take the plunge this afternoon. Hermione had convinced him that no one could turn down a grand gesture, that even if he was rejected, Snape had long since abandoned humiliating him.

'Technically,' Harry supposed as Snape pulled gently away from the kiss. 'She wasn't wrong.'

"So…" Harry began nervously. "Are you? Having a happy Valentine's, I mean."

Snape smirked with a raised eyebrow and took a step back. His hand slid down Harry's arm and drew his cold hand up to thin lips. "We shall see." He placed a tender kiss on Harry's knuckles, making the Gryffindor blush.

"Whoa!" Harry gasped as he was dragged as suddenly from the classroom as he'd been dragged into it. "Where are we going?"

Snape looked back at him as he continued to drag him along the corridor. "I believe tradition dictates that I give you my gift as well."

"Oh," Harry muttered as he followed the firm grip on his hand. "That-that's…you really don't-" He blushed when Snape raised a challenging eyebrow. "Okay."

He was led down corridor after corridor, occasionally passing a startled pair of students who'd been seeking privacy for a good snog. Snape walked past these few pairs with hardly a glance, until they reached a door that, at a glance, looked no different than any other they had passed. Harry studied the simple wooden barrier they'd stopped in front of and saw that a snake was engraved in the stone above the door. He looked to his professor and love interest curiously, but the man only smirked.

"The password is 'cultured class'."

Harry shrugged and spoke the words to the door. Immediately, the barrier swung open to reveal a torch-lit, stairway that circled down into the depths below. Snape led the way inside and the door shut behind them. He started down the stairs, and Harry hurried to walk beside him, his hand still held firmly in a gentle, long-fingered grip.

The Gryffindor looked around them as they descended the stairs at an even pace. "Where-"

"I thought I might show you a secret passage not on your map," Snape said, smirking.

Harry gaped at the older man. "You knew?"

"Of course," Snape said matter-of-factly. "Your mother told me about it before the dissolution of our friendship. We even tried to create one of our own, but could never agree who would hold onto it, and thus abandoned it, unfinished. I have long suspected that your father's map was the 'spare parchment' I failed to confiscate in your third year. I recognized the ridiculous names that your father and his friend's called themselves by. It was most unfortunate that Lupin happened by before I could come up with a reasonable excuse to take the map for myself."

"Their names weren't ridiculous," Harry argued, wanting to defend his father on principle. "They named each other based on their animagus forms."

"Forms which they illegally procured," Snape said with a scoff. "They were ridiculous because they were flaunting their idiocy for everyone to see, including our professors."

Harry frowned. "I hadn't thought if it like that. I guess in that light it was pretty stupid of them to have done so and expect not to get caught. Still, they didn't get caught, so it worked out."

Snape smirked at him as they approached the bottom of the winding staircase. "And now you know where your sheer dumb luck comes from."

At the foot of the stairs, they came to a blank wall. At the top sat another stone carving of a snake. Harry guessed they were all the way in the dungeons by now. Snape spoke the same password that he'd given Harry before, and the wall came apart like the entrance to Diagon Alley. It opened to reveal a tapestry, similar to the few that dotted the dungeon corridors, of the Bloody Baron's violent death. After assuring that there was no one in the corridor to witness their exit, Snape led the way out from behind the wall rug.

Harry continued to walk beside the man, hand-in-hand, as they made their way through the dungeon corridors. They passed several groups of Slytherins, who stared after them in stunned silence, making Harry grin. When they stopped again, it was in front of the Potions Master's office.

Harry's smile slipped as he looked to his companion doubtfully. "Your office? I sort of hoped-"

"Perhaps if this evening goes well," Snape said, not letting him finish.

"I humiliated myself in front of the entire school," Harry argued petulantly.

Snape smirked. "And I just walked past several of my snakes while holding your hand. That should more than make up for it."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. So, why're we here?"

"I told you, it is your turn to receive my gift," Snape explained. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because it wouldn't be a surprise otherwise," Snape pointed out.

Harry rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He felt himself being led into the classroom, and followed, keeping his eyes shut. He really hoped he wasn't going through all of this build-up just to find an empty office. The door shut softly behind him and he shivered as thin lips whispered against his ear.

"You may open your eyes now."

Harry did so and gaped in awe at the sight presented to him. Snape's desk was removed from the slight pedestal at the far end of the room, and in it's place was a large blanket. Pillows were placed in organized chaos around the blanket, and in the middle was a small dinner for two, with two wine glasses and a bottle between them. Above him, the roof of the normally dire office had been spelled similarly to reflect a clear night sky (unlike the spell on the Great Hall, it did not reflect to the cloudy, snowing sky outside). Stars winked and twinkled against the midnight-black, the moon a crescent that reflected light off the jars along the walls. In this light, despite the fire in the hearth just beyond the picnic, you couldn't see what was in the jars, making the scene profoundly beautiful.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at the tall bottle sitting innocently between the two steaming plates on the blanket. "Wine?"

"You are 17, are you not? It is perfectly legal."

Harry turned to see Snape leaning casually against the door, arms crossed over his chest. The Gryffindor crossed his own arms. "Yeah, but even so I'm still a student. Won't you get in trouble?"

"I have a potion to sober you, should you need it, before you leave," Snape said coolly.

Harry grinned. "Sneaky Slytherin," He said somewhat fondly. "Why did you go to so much trouble?"

Snape cleared his throat, looking away from Harry's penetrating gaze. "I believe Lily would have called it a 'grand gesture', and she always insisted that it was the best way to tell someone of your feelings."

The Wizarding Savior's smile softened. "Sounds like my mum was a smart witch."

"She was," Severus murmured sadly.

They were silent for a moment, and Harry decided to break the tension, moving closer to his date. "A moonlit picnic? You know, you're setting quite a precedent for future Valentine's."

The Potions Master looked up with a smirk, and reached out, drawing Harry against him with a firm fingers on slim hips. "Is that a promise that there will be future Valentine's?"

Harry smirked as well. "Perhaps…depends how well the evening goes." He slid his arms up to wrap loosely around the man's neck. Leaning forward, he made to place a chaste kiss on thin lips, but stopped before he could make contact. He pulled away with a frown. "Hold on, you're not just doing all this for a chance to get the Marauder's Map, are you? Because, I'll have you know that it'll be a long time before I even show it to you."

Snape's smirk didn't falter as he drew Harry close again. "Curses, you have seen through my dastardly plans. Whatever shall I do now?" He said lightly, leaning his forehead against Harry's. "No, Harry, even I am not that nefarious. If you never show me the map, or whatever other secrets you hold, I am still willing to spend many Valentine's building upon this, our first."

Harry smiled, leaning into the man. "Now that's what I call a grand gesture."