Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money from this in any way.

Slash of the male/male kind will eventually be appearing in this story. If you don't like slash, or the idea of Harry/Severus, then please leave. Don't read what you don't like.

I dedicate this story to DT – who, despite being really busy this year, I've still managed to keep in touch with. huggles

Finally I have some direction of where I'm taking this fic. Finally. And you'll just have to wait and see how it ends out – but thank you everybody who have given me some terrific ideas along the way – keep them up. g

As a note – I still can't figure out how to get my little star-thingies to work, so instead you'll have to put up with horizontal rules instead. Bler.

Chapter Eleven

Now we just have to keep on practicing every night till the ball and he should be proficient enough not to embarrass us both.
Sitting up straight I can't help but replay my dream over in my mind. Panting slightly I hoist myself up into a sitting position.

No it couldn't be.

I think. I remember. I feel. It replays right before my eyes and I can't help but react to it.

Licking my lips, I start to think. Severus. The Snarky Git. The Evil Potions Master. The Man Who Really Hates Harry Potter. The Guy Who Looks Really Hot In Muggle Clothing.

Argh.

There's that image again. The replay.

Both of us dancing, quiet music swirling around in the background, candles flickering softly. Twirling and twirling – until we stop. Stop and look up at each other, me devouring him with my eyes, my arousal very present and obvious. Slowly he dips his head and captures my lips.

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. In the form of a man.

More panting. Breathe Harry, breathe. Nice and slow. In and out. In and out.

So what if you've come to realise in this past month that you have a hidden desire for your Potions Professor. There's nothing wrong with wanting Severus… Snape…

Ok – if you just keep on repeating that, then perhaps is might come true.

…

I wonder how he feels about me.

Absolute bloody hell.

I walk into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. Damn it Severus – get yourself back to normal. One lousy dream and you're panting like a dog in heat. And a dream about Harry Bloody Potter as well.

Don't mind that the boy is perfect in nearly any way, even if he does have to wear female clothing. It's not like it looks weird on him thanks to Dumbledore's little charm that changes the clothing so it looks good on Harry whether I can see him as himself or Jamari.

Damn and blast. I shake my head to try and clear the images of Harry from my mind…

Those corsets that he wears just hug to every curve of his body, accenting his fine toned ass beneath the rippling skirt or hugging pants. And the shoes! Don't get me started on how sexy he looks when he's wearing those blasted high heels and strutting around.

Sigh. Another shake. A splash of cold water. It brings me back to reality and I eye myself in the mirror.

"I can admit to myself, now, especially after a dream like that, that perhaps I am attracted to Potter. Slightly attracted. The smallest, tiniest bit attracted…"

Oh – who gives a damn – I am falling in love with the Saviour of the Wizarding World and there's nothing I can do about it!

Stretching slightly, I lean back into the comfortable couch and cross my legs, one slightly bouncing in time with faint music. I'm sitting in Dumbledore's office having afternoon tea with him.

Severus is sitting right beside me on the couch. It's hard to keep myself from pressing up against his side. After last night's dream and consequently the thoughts and ideas that came after – I'm now perfectly happy to admit my true feelings about Severus to myself. Though of course I would never say anything out loud – I'd be hexed to Whoop Whoop for the trouble.

It's the ball tonight and I still haven't decided what I'm going to wear yet. From what Dumbledore is telling us he's wearing it sounds like it's meant to be extremely fancy. Ack. I don't have anything fancy to wear! Just my normal clothing. I wish that I had insisted that I be allowed to go and pick out a ball gown.

"So, Jamari dear, what are you going to be wearing tonight?" I look up startled, Professor Dumbledore's question paralleling my own thoughts. I swear that man can read minds.

I shake my head, "Actually Professor Dumbledore, it doesn't sound like I have anything suitable to wear tonight, so perhaps I'll be unable to attend." I inspect my nails, "What a shame."

Dumbledore gasps, "Oh dear Jamari. We can't have that. You have to be there. Hmmm…." I start to wonder what crazy scheme the old man has up his sleeve. Suddenly Dumbledore points his wand to the left of me, and a large sparkle of light erupts.

Watching the sparkling lights, they form into a shape and in a slight burst of light they form the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. Gasp. Its way better than anything I would find muggle or wizard. Eyes are filling with tears of happiness.

No Harry. You are not going to cry in front of Professor Dumbledore… And especially not in front of Snape.

Oh blast it.

The tears fall.

What the?!?

I can't believe that Potter is crying just because Dumbledore conjured him up a dress.

Yes – the dress is beautiful – even I can see that – but really… crying…

Sigh. Dumbledore's just sitting there with that blasted twinkle in his eyes. Probably expecting me to comfort the boy…

This strangely enough does not seem as distasteful as I once would have thought.

Groan.

I pat Potter's shoulder, "It's alright. It's just a dress Potter. You don't need to cry."

Harry looked up, his large eyes sparkling from tears, a sweet smile upon his lips that were just begging to be ki-… No don't go there Severus. Not now. Probably not ever.

We sit there staring at each other; I can see the questions that are running through Potter's head. Finally we are interrupted from our contemplative staring by a polite cough from the Headmaster.

Oh great. He's looking like Potter and I have just announced our engagement. I hope that he seeing this little "interlude" on our behalf won't give him any ideas.

Hmm… It was nice having Sever-… Professor Snape looking at me like that. Damn Dumbledore and his cough.

But then again, I wouldn't really want Dumbledore to see what could have happened if we had stared any longer… Hmmm… I just want to sit and daydream about that, but Dumbledore is talking again – should pay attention.

I suppose.

"… so you two had better be off to get ready for the ball. It starts in two and half hours."

I can't help but jump up from the couch and gasp, "I only have two and half hours to get ready!"

Shock. Damn Potter can really move when he wants to.

And who in hell needs two and half hours to get ready for a blasted ball.

Sigh. He's forgotten his dress. I pick it up and nod to Dumbledore, who is trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh, "Please tell Harry, that he'll find all matching accessories and such in your lounge room. Oh and Severus – there's something there for you as well."

What?

I suppose I'll just have to go and have a look now at what the old coot has come up with this time.

And Just a little bit for some of the reviewers....

Sweet Murder – I'm rather taken with your idea of something embarrassing happening to Harry to made him get back at Severus – but we'll just have to wait and see what happens. ;-)

Lestat's Raven – Hee. Don't worry I won't tell anybody that you squealed. :-) And thanks for the idea of the rose or flower – I'm seriously thinking of using it.

Crudedley - L You're right, I wouldn't like to be the cause of a reviewers death – it would put others of reviewing. ;-) And no "soon" doesn't mean "two years" or at least not for me. But sometimes RL gets really busy and I don't have a lot of time – so please try and persevere.