I got a couple comments about Ron and how much you guys like him. So here, have some more Cool Friend Ron :)

XXIV: Cousin Steve

Ron's breakfast was left untouched, which was weird enough, but even more bizarre was the reason why he had not eaten anything this morning. He was staring at Snape.

The black bird had shown up the last couple of nights. He had never changed into human again. He arrived when Ron and Neville were asleep, rested for a couple hours next to Harry's head, then left before dawn, before anyone else besides Harry could even notice his presence. Neville knew nothing of him. He had never even mentioned seeing the bird on the first night. Harry suspected the canary yellow spell was nothing else than a small Obliviate.

Harry had not seen Severus since then. Just the bird, not the human. Well, they had met; they walked past each other on the corridors, they saw each other at meals, but they took no notice of the other. They were never alone. They never talked. If not for the grackle arriving every night, Harry would have almost doubted he didn't dream all of this up.

That, and Ron.

He slapped his best friend's hand, as it played idly with his bacon.

"Stop staring at him," Harry hissed under his breath.

Ron's gaze snapped back at Harry. "Sorry, didn't mean to." He commented, as he took a bite of his eggs.

Harry touched his wand on the table and murmured a Muffliato. The sound of their peers dissolved into distant murmurs.

"Why are you acting so weird about this all of a sudden? You weren't freaked out about it a week ago when I told you!"

"I'm not freaked out!" Ron said quickly, his eyes slowly drifting back at Snape. "I'm not."

"Ron!" Harry snapped. "You're doing it again!"

He didn't even have to look up, he could feel Snape's glare on them. The professor dabbed at the corner of his lips, placed his napkin on the table, then stood up.

"You've done it now," Harry murmured frustrated, eyes back on his plate, though he knew it was too late.

Snape was coming towards their direction. Ron looked down as well, both of them hoping Snape just wanted to give them a scare.

Harry cancelled the spell right away, only to have it revoked a moment later. He could barely take out two words of a nearby conversation, it already melted into general noise. Then Snape leaned down onto the table next to Ron, black eyes casting lightnings and voice thundering in its quiet fury.

"What, Mr. Weasley, seems to be your problem?"

Ron shied away from him, giving more attention to his plate now than all week. "Nothing, sir." He gulped.

"If I catch you glancing at me one more time, I will not just Obliviate you, I will reduce your brain to the equivalent of a slug's. Do you understand me, Mr. Weasley?"

"Slugs don't have brains…" Ron quipped very quietly.

"My point exactly, Mr. Weasley." Snape hissed. "So, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Ron nodded, still not daring to look up at Snape. To Harry's surprise though, he wasn't terrified, as he very well should have been. Ron was smiling. In fact, he could barely keep from laughing out loud.

"Though as I see, you might just take that as less of a threat and more of an improvement." Severus noted, glaring down at the red head.

Ron bit his lip not to laugh out, but he was shaking. "No, sir." He pressed out through gritted teeth.

He slowly turned his head towards Snape, looked at him, eyes shifting from the top of the man's head down to his boots then back again. "It's just, you see, I have my birthday today." He said with a stupidly big grin on his face.

"And you wish to spend it in detention?" Snape asked slowly.

"We'll have a party. Tonight. Gryffindor Tower. Plenty of food. Even more booze."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Harry buried his face in his hands. He still heard Snape's dangerously low voice as he said, "Telling me that, Mr. Weasley, was a very, very foolish thing to do. Which makes me wonder why you would want to lose all of Gryffindor's hard-earned points and earn yourself detention for the duration of the rest of the semester."

Ron's smile shrunk a bit for a moment, then he gulped and nodded towards Harry. "He needs a plus-one." He smirked.

"Bloody hell, Ron!" Harry groaned.

Black eyes were trained on Ron, who didn't budge. He kept watching Snape with a raised eyebrow. Harry had a distinct feeling those two were having their own discussion, and once again, he was left out of it.

"You are out of your mind, Weasley," Snape said at the end and straightened.

Ron shrugged. "All I'm saying is, the window will be open."

"If I hear a word out of Gryffindor Tower tonight, all of you will be in detention." Snape grimaced. "Good day, Mr. Weasley."

"Bye, Professor Snape," Ron grinned.

Snape looked at Harry, too. His expression softened slightly. "Control your friend, Potter."

"Oh, don't worry, sir. I'm going to kill him." Harry said lightly, shooting a deathly glare at Ron.

"What a lovely idea," Snape noted then his gaze shifted over Harry's face. "Slept well, Mr. Potter?" He asked softly.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Reasonably, sir. A bird woke me up at dawn again."

"Horrible pests," Snape commented.

"I'm growing rather fond of this one, actually," Harry admitted with a casual shrug.

"Oh shut up, you two," Ron grunted under his breath.

Snape seemed to not hear him, his expression remained unchanged, and his black eyes never left Harry. But then the corner of his lips twitched. He turned and strode away, robes billowing.

His departure cancelled his spell, too and Harry had to recast it to keep talking in secret, though no one paid any attention to them.

"You're mental, Ron!" He hissed. "Mental!"

Ron just grinned, then shrugged. "What?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry couldn't stop the smile that took over him. Soon they were both laughing.

"Was that why you kept staring at him?" Harry asked incredulously, once he could breathe again.

"Well, no, not really…" Ron giggled. "It's just… so bloody weird. I've heard him making out with you, Harry; that changes a man's perspective of a person, especially Snape! I mean…" Ron shook his head, still chuckling.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's just… I can't look at him like I used to Harry. He… lost his power. He's just a normal bloke now, who's shagging my best friend." Ron said bluntly and though it wasn't true yet, Harry didn't feel like correcting him. After all, he hoped sooner or later that would be the case anyway. "And once you make that conclusion you start thinking…"

"About what?"

"Well, you know… I keep seeing these pictures in my head. With you and him… Just doing like regular stuff that I do with Hermione. Like holding hands and talking about our day, you know. Simple, stupid shit, couples do."

"We're not a couple, Ron," Harry stated.

"Well, aren't you? I know you can't call this regular dating, but like… you're together, aren't you?"

"Well, I mean… Yeah, I guess."

"Are you going to spend summer with him? Or with us again? Is he going to come and visit? Is he going to have Sunday lunch with us? Hermione kept nagging me about a double date with Ginny and you, which was weird enough, because she's my little sister, but now he's going to come along when we go down to have a pint?"

"Ron, he's not coming along anywhere, we cannot be seen public," Harry told him.

"Well now, yes. But you won't keep this a secret forever, will you? School's over in a couple of months, then what?" Ron asked.

"Ron, it's not like I'm marrying the guy!"

"Yeah, but you're in love with him!"

"Wh-what are you talking about?!"

"Oh well, I don't know, Mr. I'm-Growing-Fond-Of-This-Mysterious-Bird-We-All-Know-To-Be-You," Ron said in a mocking tone, but still grinning. "And Snape doesn't seem like the guy who does casual, either. Every night, he's risking his job to be with you."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He just stared at Ron.

"It's stupid, if you ask me." Ron said, quietly.

"What?"

"That he can't be seen with you. It's not like he's teaching you anymore, and you're of age. You killed Voldemort, for fuck's sake. You died for us, Harry. You'd think the least they could do for you is let you date anyone you like."

Harry sighed, pushing his plate away. "When was my life ever that simple?"

o.O.o

It wasn't supposed to be a huge party. What had started out as a few of them sitting around near the fire with a cake and champagne, sent to them by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, soon turned into a rather festive celebration actually. Given it was Friday night, no one seemed to want to do homework, instead, they joined in to have a toast with Ron.

They had more food than during the Welcome ceremony. Puddings of all kind, roasts, and birthday cakes lined all the horizontal surfaces and once they cut into one thing, three others appeared. After saving the elves during the battle of Hogwarts, Ron had become quite the hero of the kitchen staff, which made both him and his stomach pleased.

Only one table was without food which served as a liquor bar. Hermione, the only reasonable adult among them, drew an age line around it, but younger students soon learned who were the weak souls to beg for a bottle of Dragon Blood beer or a glass of spiked punch. She soon gave up the fight, trusting the Head Boy and Girl, and the Prefects to handle any arising situation, though little did she know, all of them were rather drunk already – Ron made sure of that.

Harry occasionally chanced a glance at the open window, though he had no true hope for a black bird to swish through.

Ron noticed him and offered him a shrug, that conveyed, 'I tried'. Harry smiled back then took a sip of his punch. He didn't want to drink too hard. He had the first Duelling Club tomorrow afternoon, and he didn't want to be still hungover during it.

"So, how's Snape?" Ginny asked him. She was sitting right next to him, her voice quiet enough so others wouldn't overhear them.

Harry felt a cold shiver go through him. This was the first sentence they said to each other, since the breakup. He wondered how Ginny would react if she found out who had been sleeping in Harry's bed every night in the past week.

"Good, I reckon," he smiled at her.

"Haven't seen his Patronus in a while," Ginny noted.

"Yeah, me neither." Harry nodded.

Ginny watched him for a while. She seemed sad. Not heartbroken, not anymore. Just sad. And slightly anxious. "Look, Harry… there's something I want to talk to you about."

Harry took another sip of his punch. "Listening, Gin," he said softly.

"Can we talk privately?" She motioned towards the open window. No one seemed to be idling around there, given the cold.

Harry stood, held his hand out for her and smiled. "Sure."

She took it and they walked away from their group. Harry watched her as she pulled him through masses of people, lingering or dancing around. Bright, ginger hair flowing past her shoulder, narrow waist, small fingers that gripped him hard as they moved through the crowd.

Harry calmly acknowledged that he felt nothing whatsoever for her. He loved her, sure, just as he loved Hermione or Luna.

She breathed in the cold air, leaning against the window sill. Harry joined her, thinking this was the same window where he kissed Snape the last time.

Ginny looked suddenly anxious. She fidgeted but didn't dare look at Harry.

Harry smiled, taking her hand again. He faintly realized he felt more comfortable touching her now that they broke up, than during most of the semester while they were still together.

"Is this about Neville?" He asked carefully.

Ginny snapped her blue eyes right at Harry. She didn't say anything.

"It's okay, Gin, I've noticed you two are hanging out around each other a lot, lately."

"And you're okay with it?"

"Is he treating you well?"

"Yes," she said, blushing.

"Then, yes, I am." Harry said with a smile. "You deserve it, Ginny. Just because I couldn't give it to you, it doesn't mean I don't want you to be happy."

Ginny turned around, leaning with her back against the frame. "You think we could be friends again?" She asked in a quiet, hopeful tone.

"Sure," Harry answered, his eyes scanning the darkness outside, in hopes of seeing iridescent feathers on the sky. Nothing moved out there, of course. "I want to be friends again. And I wouldn't mind it if Neville started talking to me again. He's been avoiding me ever since we broke up." Harry grinned.

"Yeah, he's kind of scared of what you would do to him, if you found out he wants to date me."

Harry snorted. "Probably wish him good luck. It's not me he needs to be afraid of. You have six other brothers."

Ginny laughed. Harry couldn't recall the last time he heard her laugh. This was so much better like this. For both of them.

He turned towards her and held out his hand. "Friends?"

Ginny smiled at him brightly. "Friends," she said, and they shook on it.

They returned to the rest of their group, Ginny gave him one last brief hug, before she would go to Neville. She froze though, as she looked towards their friends.

"Who's that?" She asked surprised.

Harry looked up, too. Piercing blue eyes seemed to glare at him. They belonged to a young bloke, probably the same age as them, though Harry had never seen him in his life.

He had a mess of a curly red hair and looked about as gangly as Ron. His skin was white as milk and covered in freckles. He wasn't a student, at least wasn't wearing the usual school robes, but had simple black jeans, a white shirt and black jacket on.

"Judging by the looks," Harry noted with a grin, "your seventh brother."

"Shut up," Ginny laughed as they went closer.

"There you are, Harry," Ron called. "Have you met my cousin, Steve?"

"Steve," Ginny echoed quietly. "We have a cousin called Steve?"

Harry snorted as he took the guy's outstretched hand and shook it. "Hello, Steve. I'm Harry. Nice to meet you."

Harry felt a strange, tingling sensation where their skin touched, though it might have been only the effect of Steve's intense glare.

"The infamous Harry Potter…" Steve murmured. "What a pleasure."

"So, who are you again?" Ginny asked. "I've never heard of you."

"Uhm, yeah," Ron said. "You were very little when he last visited. He lives in…"

"France." Steve offered, then shook Ginny's hand as well. "Just came for a short visit."

"He was on the way to the Seashell Cottage," Ron explained. "Has a letter for Fleur, you see, from Gabrielle. Dropped by to say hi."

"Oh," Ginny murmured. "How is she?"

"Lovely, as always," Steve said then turned back to Ron. "Almost forgot, happy birthday… uhm… Ron." With that he handed over a bottle to his relative.

"Ogden's?" Ron sighed happily, with a wide grin, tapping his cousin on the shoulder merrily. "Thank you, Steve, you lovely, lovely person."

Steve did not seem as all right with being touched so familiarly. He grimaced at Ron, who snatched away his hand immediately.

"Food's that way," Ron pointed towards the cakes and roasts, "booze is this way," he said lifting the bottle in his hand. "But we have some beer and punch, too. Feel free to grab anything you fancy," Ron winked.

Steve arched an eyebrow then gave another intense look to Harry. "I intend to."

They sat back down onto the couches near the fire. Ginny took a seat beside Harry with a smile, but Steve stood over her glowering until she moved away, intimidated. Harry found Steve strangely familiar even though they had never met.

"So, you weren't there at Bill's wedding, were you?" He asked Steve once the young man had sat down next to him.

"No, work kept me away," Steve said as he took a glass of whiskey from Ron.

"Work?" Harry asked surprised. Steve didn't look much older than them. Though, truth be told, there was something in those blue eyes that told Harry Steve might not have had an easy life either. He had none of the usual Weasley-friendliness, he was rather formal, though not cold.

In fact, he seemed rather interested in Harry. He was turning towards him as they talked, completely ignoring anyone else. Their knees touching could almost be just an accident, except Steve was leaning on the back of the couch with one arm and Harry could all but feel the warmth of his fingers at his neck. His skin crawled, not necessarily in the wrong way. It had been a while since he could touch Severus, and well, his body didn't tolerate the withdrawal very calmly.

"I may not look it, but I'm a lot older than you, Potter." Said Steve.

"So, what do you do?" Harry asked.

"I teach."

"Really? At you're age?"

"I started early."

"So, how exactly are we related?" Ginny asked from Steve's other side.

Steve rolled his eyes before he turned to his cousin. "Distantly."

Ginny huffed, not that Steve noticed her. He was already eyeing Harry again.

"So, Steve," Harry said. "Do you teach at Beauxbatons, then?"

"Sure," Steve said, not caring much about the topic.

"I'm sort of teaching, too," Harry told him somewhat proudly. "Well, assisting for now. Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Do you enjoy it?" Steve asked. His blue eyes were gleaming.

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "I actually like it a lot."

"That is good to hear. Have you ever thought about taking it beyond assisting? As I hear, you would be excellent in it."

Harry huffed. "You're the second person to suggest that to me this week."

"So many of us cannot be wrong," Steve said, lips curving. He didn't smile much, but he was still a reasonably handsome young man.

"I wanted to be an Auror since I was fourteen," Harry admitted. "Never really considered anything else."

"Take it from me, Potter, you would detest being an Auror. Too many rules you would never follow."

Harry laughed out. "I feel like you know me too well already."

"And yet there are still sides of you I have never seen."

"Well I'd hope so. We've only known each other for ten minutes." Harry grinned.

Steve smiled back, lifting his glass. "Here's to the best ten minutes of my day."

Harry felt a blush creeping up his neck, but he toasted with Steve, nonetheless.

Suddenly a girl, sixth year, if Harry recalled correctly, stood over him with a kind, shy smile. "Hi Harry," she said timidly. "Do you… do you want to dance?"

"No, thanks, Emma," Harry said, but she took his hand and started pulling him off the couch.

"Oh, c'mon, Harry, it will be fun."

Before Harry could politely refuse, he suddenly felt a palm slithering towards his knee. Then Steve said in an unfriendly voice, "He's busy, Miss Macintosh."

Her slightly panicked eyes took in the hand on Harry's leg, how it assertively gave Harry's thigh a light squeeze before she gasped, "Oh…" then dropped Harry's hand finally.

"Off you go. Hurry now." Steve told her and she skidded away fast.

Harry watched the hand on his leg with a mix of cold fury and some confusion, given his stupid body was very eager in responding to the insisting touch. He gave Ron a look, glancing between the hand and his best friend in a suggestive way, but Ron just grinned and shrugged.

Harry seized Steve's wandering fingers and dropped it back onto its owner's lap.

"I can take care of them," Harry said in a reserved voice.

"No doubt," Steve said. "I still do not like others touching what belongs to me."

Harry laughed drily, "I don't belong to you, Steve." He said then stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

He walked away, craving some fresh air. He went to the open window, looking out to the blackness. He missed Severus. It was a ridiculous notion, but it was true. He wanted to sit beside the man, just like Hermione was sitting next to Ron. Hands in hand, or just slightly touching, or not even touching at all, but still making sure everyone in the room understood he wasn't alone.

If Severus didn't come tonight, he would go there instead. It had been a week and Harry missed him. He just wanted to talk. Mostly. But if it ended up as something else, well so be it.

A glass of whiskey appeared on the window sill next to his elbow and a body pressed against his back. For just one single moment, he allowed himself to imagine it was Severus. He sighed deeply.

When the moment was over, he turned around and pressed his wand into Steve's throat. The man didn't even blink.

No one was looking their way, yet Harry still whispered. "If you touch me one more time, I won't care you're a Weasley and throw you out of the tower, you understand?"

Steve smirked, but his hands retreated.

"You look like you're waiting for something, Potter. I wonder what it could be." Steve said in a dangerously low voice. "A little bird perhaps?"

That was too close to the truth and Harry didn't like it one bit. His wand pressed deeper into milky white skin. Steve bit his full lower lip and moaned slightly.

"Get the fuck away from me," Harry hissed.

"Use your head, Potter. Don't make me say it; it takes the fun out of it." Steve said reaching for his glass.

"I will throw you out," Harry stated.

"I can fly," Steve said easily and took a gulp. "Your blind dedication has surprised me from the beginning, Potter. I never expected anything from you and yet you just give and give and give. You trust me since you know my true allegiance. You have faith in me when I have none left. And now you even stay faithful to me? What have I done to deserve you?"

Harry stared into the unfamiliar blue eyes. His heart was screaming at him, telling him the truth, but his mind refused to accept it.

"You…? How…? What?!" He grunted.

"Turn around," said Steve, but he didn't wait. He grasped Harry's hand, pulled the wand from his throat, then turned Harry around and pressed him against the windowsill.

"Say my name." Steve growled in a low voice.

That's not Steve. It's you. You cheat. You bloody cheat. First a bird, now this. How dare you?

Harry pushed back against the body, but not to shake it off him anymore. "It can't be," he groaned.

"Your Animagus form is a snowy owl, mine is a sail-winged grackle. Say my name."

"It's impossible…"

"Is it though? I might not be the resident Potion Master anymore, but I never stopped brewing. Mixtures like Polyjuice or Veritaserum I always keep close by. Say my name."

"No," Harry moaned as he let the body grind against him. "No, no, no, it can't be… You can't… oh god…"

A mouth pressed against his throat, hungrily sucking on his skin. "What other detail do you want me to say to prove who I am? That I smoke with you on my balcony? That I sleep with you every night? That I want to feel you, touch you, taste you again? You know who I am. Say my name, Harry."

"Oh god, S-Severus," Harry said closing his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"This," said Snape and kissed Harry.

It was all wrong. There was short, curly hair in his fisted hand, the fingers holding his chin were not bony, but thick, the body behind him was a lot more muscular, too. Even his scent was different. It was all wrong, yet it was still him. Harry could tell. He kissed the same way as Severus, he felt the same as Severus felt against him.

"Why would you do this?" Harry breathed against Severus' unfamiliar lips. "You're out of your mind."

"I cannot claim sanity, anymore," Severus said aggravated. "Though I think we can both agree on whose merit my unhinged state is."

"Yeah, sure, blame it on me," Harry grinned. He looked over his shoulder. Blue eyes watched him. He shuddered. "This is so weird."

Severus drew five fingers through his curly hair. "Is it so bad?"

"You're ginger, Severus." Harry snorted. "Wherever did you even get this face?"

"He's just a poor fellow I met in Hogsmeade today."

"And where did cousin Steve come from?"

"Don't ask me. Weasley realized who I was the moment I came in. Started introducing me as a relative. I let it happen. It was easier to explain than a student no one had ever seen."

Snape hugged him from behind. They swayed gently to the music around them. Harry let his head fall back on the other man's shoulder.

"It hurt to have you reject me." Severus said quietly.

"Shit, you know I didn't mean that. I mean…"

"I know."

"I'd never reject you."

"You bloody well should, Potter," huffed Snape. "I look into the mirror and I do not recognize myself anymore. What have you done to me?"

Harry smiled, stroking the arm around him. "Nothing, it's still you."

"Is it? I am currently in Gryffindor Tower, disguised as a red-head. I come here every night, and sleep here in my Animagus form. Is this the Severus Snape you know?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "A part of him, I hope, yes." He turned around and looked into the strangely familiar eyes. "Do you regret it?"

"Gods no. Coming here may have been the most ludicrous idea of my life, but coincidentally it is also the best part of my day."

"What happened?" Harry asked, remembering Wallace's letter to the Governors.

"I spent my whole day trying to convince old fools that I am not, in fact, a raging lunatic. I would kick Wallace out with great pleasure, would he not be such a good teacher. Why cannot we leave the past where it belongs: behind us?"

"He is good," Harry admitted. "But if I had to choose, I'd rather have you stay than him."

"You and Minerva both are like the little devils on my shoulder," Severus noted with mirth. "But I cannot be selfish, I must think of what is best for the students."

Harry remained quiet, not really sure what to say to that. He knew nothing could convince Snape to sack Wallace just because he didn't like him. Wallace was a good professor, great even, almost all of the student body loved him. When he wasn't so hell-bent on getting Severus fired, even Harry liked him a lot.

"Thank you," Snape sighed then kissed Harry's shoulder. "I needed this. You." He added quietly.

"Any time," Harry murmured, feeling a little blush creep up on his neck.

Severus stepped away then took Harry's hand in his. "Shall we go back?"

"You would willingly put yourself through an evening spent among my friends?" Harry asked incredulous, but grinning.

"Steve appreciates their company and I only have about half an hour left anyway." Severus shrugged, then leaning slightly closer to Harry, he whispered, "Besides, Miss Macintosh and the like needs to understand where you belong."

Harry chuckled, trying to repress the warmth spreading in his chest. "And where would that be?"

Though there were blue eyes watching him, the intensity of the gaze was the same. Snape moved closer, lush lips stroking Harry's. It wasn't a kiss, not yet, just a caress; soft and restrained. "Right next to me," he growled, then finally captured Harry's lips.

He kissed deep and sensual, claiming. His tongue pressed inside Harry's mouth, dancing, sliding against him wetly and making Harry's skin prickle. He could taste the smoky flavour of whiskey burning his tongue, his throat just like the liquor would.

The kiss was as short as it was intense. It left Harry breathless, shuddering.

"Shall we," Snape said smugly then pulled Harry through the crowd. Harry followed blindly, mind still in a lustful haze.

No one paid them much attention when they returned. Ginny and Neville had left already, if Ron noticed Harry's flushed state, he did not comment on it. Only Hermione raised a surprised eyebrow when she noticed their interlaced fingers, then looked away smiling to herself.

They settled back onto the couch. While talking animatedly about Quidditch, Ron poured both of them a glass from the quickly emptying bottle of Ogden's then made them hover to them over the table. Severus picked out the drinks from the air and handed one to Harry. His body relaxed back into the couch as he took a small sip.

To Harry's surprise, Severus was soon involved in a rather heated discussion with Hermione about house elf rights. As he explained to her about traditions, he crossed his legs, hand dropping onto Harry's thigh casually. The nonchalant touch made Harry smile and in return, he leaned onto the back of the couch and started stroking the curly, ginger hair, wishing it was long black tresses he could be playing with.

It took Severus a couple minutes to realize where his own hand and Harry's were, but it seemed the public display of affection did not bother him, at least not as long as he looked like Steve. He kept softly caressing Harry's leg, as he argued with Hermione.

It was almost eleven when Snape gave Harry's leg a firm pat, and said, "I ought to be going."

Harry stood up with him. "I'll walk you out." He smiled.

Ron stood up and stepped around the table. "Glad you could make it, Steve," He grinned then offered a hand to Snape.

Severus eyed it for a moment then shook it firmly. "Appreciate the invite," he said, then in a lower voice he added, "I would hide the liquor if I were you. Minerva is on her way."

"What?" Ron asked back uncomprehending.

"Did you honestly think I would just let my students drunkenly cavort around? Especially Gryffindors?" He smirked. "Do not expect favours from me, Weasley."

Ron just sniggered. "I would never dare, sir."

Harry and Severus were climbing out of the portrait hole, when they heard Ron break up the party. The Fat Lady was thankfully sound asleep in her frame so Harry could lean in and give a small kiss to Severus.

"Are you coming back?" He asked quietly.

Severus shook his head. "I have work to do. I'll be up all night, probably."

"I could go over, too," Harry suggested with a coy smile. "We could have a cigarette."

The ginger hair was still there, but black eyes bore into him as Severus said in a dark voice, "Correct me if I am mistaken, but I have a wild suspicion it is not just my cigarette you want a taste of anymore."

Harry's eyebrow arched. "It hasn't been just your cigarette for a while now, Severus."

Severus pressed his forehead against Harry's. "You are a hard man to resist, Mr. Potter."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't resist me then, Professor Snape." Harry proposed.

"Well, maybe I won't," Severus whispered darkly.

Harry almost gave himself over to another breath-taking kiss when he heard footsteps, then a sharp voice called, "Mr. Potter, it's way past your curfew."

Severus moved away as Professor McGonagall approached them.

"C'mon professor, I'm right outside the Common Room." Harry groaned.

"I'm not the one making the rules, Potter, you'd have to take that up with Professor Snape, I'm afraid."

Harry sniggered and chanced a glance at Snape. He seemed to have grown a few inches in the last few minutes and even his hair was a couple shade darker and longer, too.

"So unless you want to lose some points, return to your dorms right away," McGonagall sneered. "You too, Mr…" She looked over Snape once then twice, confused. "I'm sorry, but who are you?" She snapped.

Snape let out a relieved breath as he murmured, "Steve. And leaving." He looked at Harry, lips curving slightly, and said, "Goodnight," before he turned on his heels and marched away. Harry was surprised McGonagall didn't figure out who he was just by watching him walk.

"Who was that, Potter?" She asked.

"Just a little bird who didn't want to sleep on his own," Harry smiled, looking after the man. He saw shoulder-length hair fluttering, growing longer and longer with every step before Snape would round a corner and disappear.

McGonagall cleared her throat and Harry looked at her.

"Well," she said, slightly blushing. "Anyway, you better not be having a party in there, Mr. Potter." She jerked her head towards the Common Room.

"I wouldn't call it a party," Harry grinned. "We were just sitting around, eating cake."

Lips thinning, brow arching, McGonagall glared at him, but Harry just kept smiling. He was in a rather good mood. "Are you coming in?" he inquired.

He said the password and the Fat Lady swung forward. No noise came from the Common Room.

"If I find even a single drop of alcohol in there, Mr. Potter…" She warned.

Harry just held out his hand to her to help her climb up.

"Alcohol, Professor?" He echoed dumbfounded. "We would never!"

"Oh please, Mr. Potter," she looked back at him, her eyes rolling, but he could see her lips curving into a smile.

Ron waited for them on the other side. Only a couple others were still lingering around, thankfully all of them seemed sober.

"Would you like a slice of cake?" Harry asked cheerfully once they were inside the Common Room.

McGonagall sneered, but ignored him and looked around, her eyes sweeping across the room, but she found no evidence of a party.

Ron held out a plate for her. "C'mon, Professor, it is a really good cake."

She huffed, but her eyes softened. "Oh, why not…"