"It appears to have gotten dark outside." Snape stated as his dark eyes darted out the dusty window into the equally dark night.

Harry's eyes joined Snape's as they turned to face the outside, as though doubting the man's words. It couldn't possibly be dark yet, it seemed as though he had only just arrived. Had he really been standing here talking to Snape this entire time?

Snape had indeed been correct.

Where had the time gone? Had he truly spent the last few hours talking to his old professor? Not to mention the fact that he actually seemed to enjoy it.

Harry adjusted the glasses resting across the bridge of his nose as he prepared himself to leave.

"Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?" Snape drawled, though his voice seemed to have adopted a softer tone, as though some part of him had been hesitant to ask.

Harry stalled for a moment, as though taken a back by the older man's proposition.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?" Harry mumbled as he struggled to formulate words into a halfway coherent sentence.

"Perfect. How about I lock up here and we go to my house?" Snape suggested as he cleared the bench before stacking the remaining potion bottles with a methodology that only Snape seemed capable of possessing.

Harry slowly nodded, though he had anticipated having the tea here, in Snape's shop. Come to think of it, he had never even considered that Snape lived in a house. He had always assumed that the man must live in a dungeon or underground cave. But of course he lived in a house, he wasn't some demon that everyone made him out to be.

"Follow me, its not far from here." Snape offered Harry a warmer smile than Harry had ever witnessed upon the man's lips.

Snape wasn't lying, his house was indeed just around the corner. It seemed only moments had gone passed and they were both standing outside the front door of a somewhat rundown old townhouse.

Snape glanced up and down the narrow alleyway, as though waiting for an opportune moment to present itself. And there it was, no one was stumbling past. With a small flick of his wand, the front door flew open.

"Come in." Snape whispered as he led the way into the old townhouse.

"Have a seat." Snape gestured towards a seat perched in front of a roaring fireplace.

"Thank you."

"How do you take your tea?" Snape raised his eyebrow expectantly.

Harry opened his lips to speak but quickly realised that he didn't actually possess a preference.

"Or perhaps you would prefer something stronger?" Snape raised an eyebrow in a somewhat curious fashion as he reached for a bottle of fire whiskey, as though not anticipating that the boy would ever refuse it.

"Thanks." Harry nodded as he watched Snape pour the glistening amber liquid into a small glass.

"You are quite welcome Mr Potter."

"Please, call me Harry." Harry offered the man the essence of a smile as he reached out for the whiskey.

"You have a lovely house." He added before drawing the glass to his lips.

"No, I don't Mr-Harry." Snape stammered as he struggled to adapt to call Harry anything other than 'Mr Potter' or 'The Chosen One'.

"Why do you think that?" Harry tilted his head expectantly, yet some part of him suspected that he already knew the answer.

"It's a rundown shack in the heart of an even more rundown part of town." Snape offered the younger man a vague smile before choosing to occupy the seat across from him.

"I think it's cozy." Harry stated, surprising himself with the sincerity laced within his words as his eyes traversed nearby shelves oozing with books about potions no doubt.

"Is that right?" Snape raised his eyebrow before drawing his own glass of whiskey to his lips. Yet, something about the way he said those words made Harry think the man doubted him or perhaps thought he was mocking him.

"Yes." Harry reasserted as he raised his glass to his lips and consumed a sip.

"How do you find living alone?" Harry began as he struggled to think of a change of topic.

"I imagine I enjoy it much the same as you do."

Harry nodded, accepting the man's answer as a silence fell across the room.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and young Miss Weasley." Snape's voice suddenly became barely louder than a whisper, yet it still made clean work of severing the silence. He leaned forward; his actions etched with hesitation as he reached out before resting his hand on top of Harry's. Ordinarily Harry would have found the gesture awkward and uncomfortable, yet in this particular scenario he found it surprisingly reassuring.

"Don't be, it was for the best." Harry sighed, though he wasn't entirely sure the words seeping from his lips were in fact the truth. Though he couldn't help but wonder how Snape had found out about the somewhat messy breakup between Ginny and himself.

"Why do you say that?"

Harry remained silent as he attempted to accumulate the most appropriate words, yet none seemed to come.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to." Snape offered the younger man a warm smile before drawing the glass to his lips once more.

"I just, after the events of the war, struggled to see a future with her. I think deep down she did too. It seemed like things were going so well during the intensity of the war, but after it ended, it seemed as though what we felt for each other faded along with it. Now there is nothing left, not even friendship. It's really only a struggle when I run into her or see her so happy in her new life."

Snape nodded, his eyes betraying that he knew all too well exactly the feeling that the younger wizard was referring to.

"I best be getting back." Harry sighed as he placed his empty glass onto the coffee table before rising from his seat.

"I'll walk you to the door." Snape offered before rising from his seat also.

"Thank you for listening to my endless whinging." Harry offered the man a slight, almost forced chuckle.

"It's quite alright Mr-Harry. Life is not an easy journey." Snape stated with a warm smile as he pulled the door open and allowed the younger wizard to pass.

"It was good to see you again, professor." Harry farewelled the older man, his words once again barely above a whisper.

"You too."

*~.~*

Harry stepped into his apartment, closing the front door behind him, inhaling the warm air into his lungs before violently exhaling it. He leaned with his back against the door, no part of him desiring to move from the spot as his thoughts returned to Snape's house.

Or rather, Snape in general. His deep, foreboding yet equally entrancing eyes.

Harry felt himself sliding slowly down his front door, yet he felt no compulsion to stop himself. His body soon touched the ground beneath it.

Why was he even thinking this way?

Why was he allowing himself to feel like this about a man he once despised? Yet the Snape he knew now seemed, well, different to the one he tolerated all through Hogwarts. Was it because Voldemort was now gone?

Was Snape happier because he was free to live the life he wanted rather than at Dumbledore's behest? Rather than taking his own life in his hands every single time a death eater meeting was to be held?

Perhaps.

Harry closed his eyes as he focused in on those eyes once more, until it felt as though the older wizard were sitting right in front of him on the floor of his apartment. He drew his hand up to his lips, the scent of the man's flesh still lingered upon the back of his fingers.

The flickering of flames echoing upon the iridescent skin of Snape's face only made Harry more curious about what he may find under the man's shirt. Was the flesh adorning the rest of his body as translucent? What chest air lay buried beneath the man's clothing? Was it as dark as the hair on his head? Did he even have chest hair at all?

Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks as his eyelids grew heavy.

Or what lingered further south of the man's chest? Perhaps a basilisk of a snake lied in the man's trousers?

Was he a true Slytherin after all?

Harry's eyes suddenly jolted open. What the hell was he thinking?

He suddenly sat up, no longer resting against the front door of his apartment. His breathing had become laboured as a droplet of sweat trailed across his temple and down to his chin.

Why was he feeling like this?

He seemed incapable of ignoring it.

Harry gasped as struggled to undo his trouser button before sliding his fingers down his underwear. The heat rose in his cheeks as he wrapped his fingers around his cock.

Why was this happening to him?