A/N: Hey! I know it's been literally like forever, but I haven't given up on this ship no worries! They just aren't kidding when they tell you that college is a lot of work...

Anyway, a lot of you have been asking for a sequel to A Wizard's Chess, so here it is! Hope you guys like it!

As always, please review, and don't be afraid to ask if there's something you'd like to see me write! I would absolutely love nothing more.

Toodles!

xo, S

"Anti-clockwise, Potter," Snape growled as he stalked behind the boy. "Honestly, even Weasley got it...somewhat correct," he sneered, looking into Ron's cauldron. He rolled his eyes. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he held up as a hand as the pair started to protest. "Each,"

As he turned his back and strode over to his desk, Ron grumbled. "Is he crankier than usual?"

"I can't tell," Harry spat, "He's always a right git. Need anything?" he asked, standing.

"Newt's eye," Ron mumbled, staring intently at a diagram in his potions book.

Harry made his way over to the supply closet, throwing a quick glance toward Snape's desk. He couldn't help but chuckle at the dour expression on his face. That should teach him to stop eavesdropping, Harry thought smugly. Although he'd never admit it, he was positive that the older man disliked when Harry talked poorly of him. He grabbed the needed supplies and meandered toward his table. He still hated potions, regardless.

They finished up their work in relative silence, until Snape stood up and loomed menacingly at the front of the class. "Time is up," he announced. "Bottle a sample of whatever it is you have created and leave it on my desk, initials on the cork,"

With that, he turned on his heel and left the students to their instructions.

"That could've been worse I suppose," Ron grumbled, "Sure wish 'Mione hadn't taken that upper level potions class."

"Right?" Harry agreed, only half paying attention as they made their way out of the dungeon classroom.

Harry looked down the hall, watching the tapestry at the end swaying slightly.

"You alright, mate?" Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just tired is all, potions always takes it outta me," he smiled reassuringly at his friend as they ascended toward the Great Hall.

"You and me both. Let's eat, and then 'Mione can do our charms work," Ron threw a sideways smirk at him as they both fell into laughter.

"Good luck with that one,"

~0~

Severus made his way back down to the dungeons as quickly as he could; dinner was always his least favorite part of the day. Too many people, and far too many people trying to trap him in a mundane conversation.

He relaxed as he made it to the familiar hallway, eyes trained on the tapestry at the end of the hall.

"Blatta Pulvereus," he muttered, pulling the tapestry aside to reveal the door to his chambers.

He let the door fall closed on its own as he made his way to his room, shedding his long outer robe and leaving it lying on one of the chairs in the kitchen. He picked up his Daily Prophet and read it as he got changed, favoring light grey pajama pants and a white tee shirt over his usual classroom attire.

He brushed his teeth, combed his hair and washed his face, all with Prophet still nearby. He walked back through his chambers to the kitchen, intently focused on an article about black market dragon blood sales, and grabbed a glass of scotch. The smell and crackle of burning cedar came to him from the living room and he made his way towards it.

"The elves have finally gotten it right," he muttered, finally settling down into his large leather wingback.

"You know you're going to run into something one day," a soft voice sounded from across the room.

Snape jumped, which was more of a twitch, as his gaze was finally torn from the paper. Harry Potter was sitting on his couch, deliciously curled up in a large blue blanket, cradling a cup of tea between his hands. He glanced once at Severus, before returning his attention to the fire. "And it wasn't the elves, by the way." He smiled, more to himself than to Severus, and fell silent once again.

"I thought you were coming over later," Snape said coolly, returning to the Prophet. He did not want the brat to know just how much his little surprise had pleased him.

Harry simply shrugged, giving Snape his space and quiet so that he could finish reading. He didn't mind anyway. He just liked being with him, regardless. And Harry would be the first to tell you it didn't matter who you were, you didn't want to disturb the older man.

Snape sipped his drink as he finished his article, setting his paper on the table next to him. His eyes strayed toward the set of Wizard's Chess that was set up on the other end of the table, still mid-game, just how Harry and him had left it. He couldn't fight off the small smile that tugged at the sides of his mouth as he spotted the black knights. He smiled slightly more as he thought of how Harry was loathe to take them out of play, how he cringed when his own white pieces annihilated them; Snape definitely used it to his advantage.

"How was your day?" Harry asked after some time, green eyes focused intently at him over the edge of his mug.

Snape turned his attention to the boy, soaking up his attention. He had had no idea that Harry could be so calm and relaxed. The time he spent in the dungeon with Severus was the best part of Snape's day, usually.

"Not any worse than usual," he replied, frowning slightly as he thought about the conversation he had overheard between Weasley and Potter.

Silence settled between them as Harry scrutinized the change in demeanor on Snape's face. He could read every line of the man's face, every curve of his eyebrow, the twist in his smirk, it spoke volumes to the boy.

"You know I don't mean anything I say to my friends about you," he said quietly, conversationally, "I mean, not anymore," he smiled softly, looking down for a second as he chuckled once, "You understand," it came out as a question, and Harry bit his lip.

Snape felt a tightening in his chest as he looked at the expression on Harry's face. He was legitimately concerned that Severus had been upset or offended. He softened his own expression and inclined his head, putting down his glass and holding an arm out to embrace Harry as he came to sit with him in the armchair.

He looked up into the green eyes, speaking softly, but firmly, "I understand," he whispered, placing a delicate kiss to the soft lips, "And while you don't mean what you say in class, neither do I," he smiled wickedly to himself, "I should rephrase. I don't mean to be so severe, the content of what I say, however..."

He smirked as Harry pouted, brows furrowing together and his cheeks burning with indignation. "I'm not that bad," he whined.

"Sure you aren't," Snape replied quickly, smirking again.

Harry huffed, untangling his legs from Severus' in an effort to get up. Snape let him try, waiting until he was just about to unseat himself before grabbing him around the waist and pulling him back, securing him against his own body. "I might get cold," he muttered, lips dangerously close to Harry's ear.

He felt the shiver course through the boy's body, delighting in the fact that he had caused it. No one had ever wanted him like Harry did. Maybe in the dark of night, under the covers of a dirty little hotel bed, fleeing before the morning light had a chance to shine, but not like this. Harry would come and sit with him, reading a hideous flying magazine while he graded papers, or read the prophet. He didn't care, as long as they were together, and it astounded Severus. It was too good to be true.

Harry laid his head against Severus' shoulder, tracing the veins on the inside of his wrist with one finger before entwining their fingers. He nuzzled into his neck, rubbing his lips lightly along his collarbones. Snape's long hair ticked against Harry's cheeks, and the smell of lilac came to him then, mixing with the cedar from the fireplace. Harry breathed in deeply, lifting his head to look into the dark eyes he knew would be trained on him.

He leaned in slightly, and waited for Severus to close the gap between them. He melted into the other man as they kissed, never wanting it to end. Snape pulled away, making Harry groan. Severus chuckled, "Ten points to Gryffindor," he murmured, tucking a stray hair back into place along his hairline, and tracing his hand down the soft skin of Harry's cheek. Harry leaned into the touch, letting Snape cup his cheek as they simply looked at each other.

"Y'know, it wouldn't be so bad if you let people know you actually aren't a git," Harry muttered, placing his head back onto Snape's shoulder and looking at their clasped hands.

"It most certainly would," Snape answered, "Besides, you wouldn't have a reason to come back here with me if I was always nice," he kissed the shaggy black hair.

"I'll always have a reason to come back," Harry sighed, cuddling in even closer.

Snape held the Gryffindor to him for all he was worth, and looking once more over at their set of Wizard's Chess. I'll always have a reason to come back, he thought, smiling softly to himself as he rested his head on top of Harry's, content.

He sure hoped so.