Severus didn't make a habit of frequenting bars, but on occasion, it was called for. Tonight was a prime example. It wasn't every day, after all, that your single, most impassioned, most moving, most sublime composition got rejected by not one, not two, but nine different publishing companies.

It's 'too dark', said one. 'Too complicated' said another. Severus didn't care really. He was just suspicious about how they all replied on the same day.

"Their fucking loss." Severus muttered into his whiskey. He had managed to find a nice little hole-in-the wall called 'Pick Your Poison' not three blocks from his house. The atmosphere was a little lacking (there were far too many young people here), but at the moment it was quiet, and the bartender didn't bother him other than to offer more drinks.

Severus was about to order another, when a voice from behind him caught his attention. He turned slightly, and was partially surprised, yet mostly chagrined to see three familiar faces making their way across the room. One of them made eye contact, and drew the attention of the other two. They diverted course and made their way over to him.

"Perfect." Severus muttered.

"Mr. Snape!" One Ms. Hermione Granger exclaimed once they were in earshot. "It's so good to see you. I suppose you don't remember us though..."

"How could I possibly forget you, Ms. Granger. Or is it Mrs. Weasley now?"

"No, no, Ron," She said with a glare in the young man's direction. "hasn't ballsed up the courage to ask me yet."

"My my, Mr. Weasley. You'd better get on that. A bright young thing like Ms. Granger won't wait around forever. And what about you, Potter? You made the youngest Weasley an honest woman yet?" Severus said, addressing the last of the three.

"Er, uh... no. Um... I... came out of the closet, actually, 'bout two years ago." Harry Potter had grown up to be a fine young man, much as it pained Severus to admit it. The fact that he was now openly gay... but no. It wouldn't do to proposition a former student, no matter how fit he was.

"Oh really. Well, I must congratulate you Potter. You're what, twenty-five now? That means you came out at twenty-three... You've definitely got one up on your godfather then. Far as I know he still hasn't come out..."

"Sirius is straight!" Weasley burst out, his ears going that unattractive shade of red that had always brought Severus a certain amount of sadistic pleasure to see.

"That's what he likes to think, yes." Severus said with a smirk.

"So, er, how have you been?" Granger asked before Weasley could embarrass himself further.

"Oh, excellent. Still teaching useless brats the fine art of the piano... not that any of them appreciate it any more than you three did." He held up a hand before Granger could protest. "I realize that you appreciated my teachings far more than any of the other snots, Ms. Granger. I do receive your letters, even if I don't reply. How is your grandmother doing, by the way?"

"Oh, she's fine now... Would you, uh, mind some company for a while?"

"Hermione!" Weasley all but shouted.

"Oh, you can go get a table if you want. It's been years since I've had a decent conversation, and I'll be damned if I pass up the chance to talk with the smartest man I know!"

"You're too kind Ms. Granger."

"I wouldn't mind a bit of chat with you myself." Potter said, taking the stool next to Severus' without asking permission.

"By all means, Potter, though if I am to converse with both of you, perhaps we might adjourn to a table?"

In due turn the four of them found themselves settled at a table on the edge of the room, a basket of too-greasy, yet utterly delicious french fries between them.

"How many students are you teaching right now?" Granger asked, daintily sipping at a wine cooler.

"Thirty-three, though five of them are adults, and ten of them can't be arsed to practice. I've got a set of twins for a few years, though they aren't near as bad as the Weasleys were."

"And have you been composing recently?" Potter asked. "I got my hands on a copy of 'The Prince's Waltz' about a year ago. It's taken me that long to learn it, and I still can't get the coda right."

"I'm surprised, Potter. I didn't think you'd have time to practice considering your career as the soccer world's golden boy."

Potter gave a sardonic grin. "During the season I don't... but on the off-season I squeeze a few hours in during the week. And hey, didn't you hear? I've retired."

"Indeed?" Severus asked, quirking up an eyebrow. "Your poor fans."

Weasley snorted. "They'll forget him soon enough. There's plenty of pretty new faces showing up every day."

"And what about you Weasley? Are you enjoying your work in the police force?"

"Well enough. It'd help if I didn't end up at Fred and George's shop every week investigating 'suspicious noises'."

"Indeed. And Ms. Granger? Your last letter mentioned that you have but a year left before you get your doctorate. You always were a show-off..."

"Well, I just didn't see the point of taking my summers off. And I really don't see why more people don't take an extra class or two. If you balance your schedule right you really don't add that much on."

"Snape's right, Hermione. You're a show-off."

"Oh, Ron."

"So what will you be doing, Potter? Now that your fifteen minutes of fame are up?"

"Relax, I think. Maybe see about getting my Master's. I'm kind of interested in becoming a teacher, actually. Probably P.E., but maybe music."

"Indeed? Well, from a realistic standpoint, you'd be better with the P.E. They're still making budget cuts in the schools, and most schools would rather have a football team than an orchestra."

"He's right, Harry." Weasley said. "Percy lost his job last year 'cause they didn't need a librarian anymore."

"I'm still just in the thinking stages. I mean, I've thought about a couple different things. I could start a band, or become a contractor... and it's not too late to start astronaut training, right?"

"Oh, Potter." Severus said in a tone that clearly said, 'you idiot'.

They chatted for a bit longer, but when the bar started filling up Severus rose on shaky legs and made his excuses.

"I have a four-year-old that will need my attention for a half-hour in the morning, and it is best if I have my wits about me when he and his mother call."

"That's just a fancy way of saying the mom's in the room while you're teaching and it's easier to be nice to the little brat if you're awake."

"Thank you, Weasley. I'm sure we all appreciated your crass translation."

"Let me walk you home. You're a little unsteady there." Potter said, jumping to his feet.

"Oh Potter, always the hero. Very well, I shall allow it. If only because the floor is refusing to stay under my feet."

Severus stumbled his way out of the bar, Potter hot on his heels. They made their way unsteadily down the three blocks in silence. When they got to his house, Severus fumbled for a long moment before managing to pull out his keys. He had no luck in unlocking the door, so Potter took charge, then ushered him in.

"Help me up the stairs, Potter." Severus ordered. They made it, but it took quite a bit of Potter's support for Severus to manage it. "Should not have had those last two whiskies." He muttered as Potter helped him down the hall.

"No, I reckon you shouldn't have." Potter muttered back, letting him fall onto his bed.

"Get me some water, Potter." Severus ordered, before giggling, because the last two words rhymed. Potter disappeared, then reappeared but a second later. Or perhaps it had been a minute. Severus wasn't quite sure. Potter helped him sit up long enough to gulp down the water, then let him collapse again. There was a tugging at Severus' feet, and he looked down to see Potter tugging off his shoes.

"Are you undressing me Potter?"

"Yes, well, taking your shoes off at least."

"I'd let you undress me completely, you know. Don't think you'd want to, but I'd let you."

"You're not in your right mind, sir."

"So that habit of yours is still there. Good. It took me a year to get it into you after all."

"Ron looks at me funny when I call you sir, so I restrained myself. But yeah, it's still there."

"You were an absolute brat though. Not surprising, considering who your father is, but still."

"Oh, I'm still a brat. I just hide it a bit better now."

"I have no doubt about that."

"Why were you drinking yourself blind, sir?"

"Stupid publishers don't know good music. Nine of them rejected an absolute masterpiece today Potter. Nine of them. I shouldn't be surprised though. These are the same fools that release 'Pop collections' and 'Teach Yourself Piano' books."

"You've know they're fools for a while now. You just conveniently forget when you come up with something you want to share."

"It's true..." Severus stared up at his ceiling. "Potter, when I die, I want you go into the safe that's hidden behind the picture of Bach, you know the one, and make sure all of those pieces get published. I don't care what you have to do to make it happen, just make it happen."

"You're going to have to put that in your will if you want it to happen."

"Oh, it already is. Well, the fact that you get the picture and the safe, that is. Oh, and you get my piano as well."

"What? You've willed Cecilia to me?"

"Of course, who else would want it? And must you insist on calling it that? It's a piano, not a person."

"Sir..."

"Potter, don't get mushy." It was a struggle, but Severus managed to turn his head enough to see Potter's face. "I don't have any relatives, I barely have any friends, and of the many students I've had through the years, you and your sidekicks are the only ones that ever made an impression. Well, the Weasley twins made an impression, but it wasn't a good one."

Potter chuckled.

"Do you remember the first time you played 'Boiling Potion'?" Severus asked.

"Yeah... vaguely. I was what, ten? Eleven?"

"You were nine. You had been taking lessons from me for three years. You weren't excelling at the same rate Ms. Granger was, but you were a good student, once we established that silliness was not to be tolerated. You were wary about learning a new piece, but you struggled through it that first time, counting aloud, with your eyebrows together like they got sometimes. When you finished it... you looked up at me and said, and forgive me, but I'll never forget this, 'Wow sir, this is a really cool song. Who wrote it?'."

Severus could feel the tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"Did you know, Potter? Did you know that you were the first person I ever showed one of my compositions to? Oh, there were a few that were schoolwork that my teachers and peers saw, but 'Boiling Potion'... That was the beginning, Potter. I've managed to get seven pieces published. Seven. I've composed hundreds more than that, but I've published seven. Oh Potter." He exclaimed, throwing a hand over his face. "What would Johann think of me? What would Wolfgang think of me? He would laugh at me, that's what he'd do. He was composing at eight."

"I know you're drunk now, sir. You've started bringing long-dead composers into it."

"Oh shut up, Potter. Shut up and leave me to die."

"I'll leave you, but only to sleep. You're not allowed to die for quite a few years yet."

Severus grumbled, but let himself fall into the heaviness that was calling to him.

When Severus woke the next morning, his head was fuzzy, his stomach was revolting, and the smell of coffee was in the air.

"The hell?" He muttered, before pulling himself up and shuffling his way down the stairs. When he peered into his kitchen, he found Potter puttering about.

Severus stared for a long moment before asking, "What the hell are you still doing in my house, Potter?"

"Making breakfast. You have that four-year-old coming in a couple hours, and you'll do much better if there's some food in you."

"I can make my own breakfast, thank you. I'm not an invalid."

"I know. But I like doing things for people."

"Oh, don't be insufferable. And pour me some coffee."

Severus slumped into a chair and glowered at the table. His mug came into his sight, filled with coffee.

"I hope you don't mind, but I used the stuff that was in the freezer. I figured you could use a cup of your special stuff this morning."

Severus glowered up at Potter, but couldn't help but concede to his point. His Hawaiian Kona was far more appealing than Folgers at the current moment.

"How do you want your eggs?" Potter asked.

"Over hard. Did you burn the toast?"

"Nope. Left it on your setting, and I must say, it really is perfect. I don't think I've ever seen more perfect toast."

In due time, Severus found himself facing a breakfast of toast, over hard eggs (fried to perfection, dammit), and a bowl of fruit salad.

"You're obscene, Potter. Who uses fresh fruit to make fruit salad?"

"What else would you use?"

"Canned?"

"That's for poor people."

"Oh, don't pretend you're a snob. It doesn't suit you."

"Speaking of snobs, what's happened with Malfoy?"

"Which one?"

"Junior. Senior's too much of a prick for me to care."

"Ah, well, Draco has one more term before getting his MBA, then will likely become a Department Manager or some such thing in Death Eater Incorporated, thanks ever so much to Daddy's influence."

"Didn't you say once that you could have had a job there?"

"Yes, well, I'm much too sophisticated for those fools. Besides, what kind of name is Death Eaters Incorporated? Far too macabre for me."

"Says the man who wrote a piece called 'The Slain King'."

Severus glanced up at Potter sharply.

"You've been nosing."

"Oh, it's worse than nosing. I spent the night in your guest room."

"You're right, it is worse. What the hell are you playing at, Potter?"

"I wanted to see what nine publishers refused. I couldn't do it justice of course, but the melody in the first movement alone... you've outdone yourself this time sir."

"I'm glad someone thinks so." Severus grumbled, shoving a piece of banana in his mouth.

"You have Malfoy's number around here somewhere?"

"Why? Are you going to ask him out on a date?"

"Kind of, yeah."

Severus snorted. "Well, you might have a chance with him if he's not still hung up on that Bulgarian bloke. My address book is on my desk in the office."

"Who still keeps an address book these days?"

"Me, and Ms. Granger, I'm sure. Possibly Lupin as well. Wouldn't put it past him. How are he and his charming wife, by the way?"

"Great. Teddy's five now, can you believe it?"

"Oh god. I'm going to be teaching him soon, I'm sure. Please tell me he's at least halfway intelligent?"

"Oh, more than that. He's Remus' boy after all."

Severus snorted again, and went back to his toast.

Severus was settling in with a book that evening, trying his damnedest to put Potter out of his mind. He wasn't being terribly successful, but he was making an effort.

His efforts were interrupted when someone rang his doorbell. He opened the door to find the subject of his thoughts standing there awkwardly.

"I would have thought you had done enough nosing to find the spare key." Severus said mildly.

"Well, I found it, but taking it seemed a little too imposing."

"Perish the thought. Come in then. Are you here for a reason, or did you simply miss me?"

"Well, a bit of both, if I'm honest. I want you to play it for me."

"What?"

"The Slain King. I'm in the middle of making a potentially stupid decision and I want to make sure I'm making it for the right reasons."

"And my failure of a masterpiece will illuminate the answer, will it?"

"Yeah, it will."

"Well, let's adjourn to the studio then."

"Really? You're not going to object?"

"Potter, I am a performer at heart. It's nice to have an eager audience, even if it is just a misguided fool."

They made their way into the studio, and Severus took his seat at the piano while Potter slumped onto the couch provided for controlling parents that insisted on watching their children receive lessons. Severus took a moment to calm himself, then began to play.

He played his masterpiece with all the passion it deserved, plus some. He wasn't playing for himself, after all. He was playing for Potter, for Harry. He was playing for the little boy that had idolized him. For the teenager that eagerly sought his advice. For the young man he was desperate to know intimately, but probably never would.

There was a moment of silence after he ended it, that one moment of silence that told a musician he had wowed the crowd. He looked over when Potter began to clap. He was smiling.

"Did my failure give you the answer you needed?"

"Of course it did. Now, uh, here's the tricky bit." Potter straightened himself up a bit. "What I want to do is a bit crazy, and if I don't have your help with it, it won't happen. Not in the same way, at least." He fidgeted.

"Well, spit it out then, boy. I do need to sleep at some point tonight."

"I want to start a publishing company, and I want to feature your works. All of them, or at least the ones that aren't too personal."

"You... Potter, are you off your rocker?"

"No, see, it makes perfect sense, in a bizarre, twisted way. I have more money than I really know what to do with, and I don't really want to go back to school, but I'm good with a computer, and Malfoy's agreed to do the financial side of things, and if I can get you to let me publish your compositions and maybe play the ones that get sent in, and I can make it work!"

Potter's eyes were bright as he looked up at Severus.

"What... what is your intention in all this Potter? You're not one to do something just for a lark."

"I'm doing this for you, and for the other musicians out there who can't get a leg up because their compositions aren't what the big shots are looking for."

Severus sighed, and rubbed a hand across his face.

"Let me sleep on it. And maybe talk to some people. No, more than that. Inform your parents that I will be joining the three of you for dinner tomorrow night so we can discuss this further."

"Okay. Um... it'll actually be five of us. Sirius is staying with us right now."

"Lovely... nonetheless, let them know to expect me."

"Yeah, um, great. Well, I'll see you then."

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't tell me what you thought of it."

"Of what?"

"The song, you imbecile."

"Oh!" Potter gave Severus a large, lovely smile (that absolutely did not warm Severus down to his toes). "I thought it was brilliant."