Isabelle Adamowitz- James is smitten like a kitten. The cat metaphors… yeah… they never stop. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
A.C. Mathur- Keehaaa… "Mimbledom"… like fandom but more mimbly… hearts u…
She-Elf- I love the Moony-PMSing jokes. I've seen it a billion times and it never fails to make me laugh. For all intents and purposes… Yes. He was PMSing (gibbous moon).
I really, really, really, really, really try to get things out monthly. I make no promises though. I try to be timely, but I want the chapters to be good so I always wait for better ideas to come and you know how life gets in the way.
Melkor-the-Morgoth- Wow! I'm so glad I've impressed a die-hard JP/SS fan! I'm also glad you appreciate that I take my time with their relationship. I'm sort-of new to JP/SS (besides Tragic of course) so I guess I have a newer take on things. A lot of writers just do the hate/love thing, which is fine but… I like my love like I like my coffee: creamy and sugary.
Pikaf- Well… Severus does have his secrets…
And I love it when you guess what will happen and you're wrong. No offense to you of course, your predictions are very good actually… I just love not being predictable. It makes me feel like J.K. Rowling! XD Glee! But you are absolutely right about one thing:
Yes, yes. He definitely sold poisons to "wrong" people. Dun, dun, dun!
GothicSidhe- Needless to say I've sort of taken this from personal experience, the whole dinner table with the old and young… I enjoy writing the grandfatherly!Albus, rather more than the For-The-Greater-Good!Albus. (Though… I might be sensing a future Albus/Gellert fic… possibly…)
I'm thrilled I've converted someone! Yay JP/SS!
We wander for what feels like hours. London is full of restaurants, it seems, but it's also eleven o'clock and many places are closing their doors at us. One pale, protuberant-nosed waitress even sweeps dirt on Snape's feet when he asks if their open. The fish-and-chips place Severus told me about is closed. The steakhouse is closed. Even the American diner we went to the other day is closed (after all it is a Tuesday rather than a Friday night). Restaurant-searching quickly becomes bar-hopping, because every time we wander into a place that looks packed, we wait at the bar to be seated, have a drink and are finally turned down by the hostesses ("the restaurant closed at ten," on waitress replied snappishly). Severus' sighs become giggles, he's had two shots and a scotch already, not to mention the wine we had before.
"You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach," I tell him, pointing my finger straight at his nose.
"Bah," says Snape, albeit his stance is getting steadily woozier.
Severus loops his arm in mine, and he leans against me at random intervals, leaving my side only to peer into half-lit windows, humming bars, and around street corners. We've lost all purpose and direction now. Surely being lost as a wizard is not as unnerving as being a muggle, because we could always just apparate home... but… even so… we're lost in the middle of London, like stray cats or orphans, looking for something to eat, pawing at trash cans…
Severus feels it too, that childish fear of being lost, in the dark, without food. His eyes grow wide; his nostrils flare. But something in him becomes more alive in the dark. I can see a spark of blackness in his face, the pleasure of twilight evident on his features, as one would react to noon. It mixes inside of him, subdues him, and like some nocturnal beast waking at sunset. Severus Snape becomes darkness. He and the night are one. Fear only makes him see more clearly. And though he's the intoxicated, stumbling drunk next to me there is a seriousness and intensity in those pupil-less black eyes.
I'm not at all surprised when he grips my hand. Though I'm not sure why… all I know is that it's not out of fear…
We keep walking, until we see pink neon lights. THIS RESTAURANT IS OPEN. Severus just grasps where we are, "Food? Finally?"
I blink up at the sign. There is a picture of a cartoon-y muscular man decked out in a hoola skirt and sunglasses. He looks something like a fruity GI Joe, flexing and smiling down at me. The sign reads "Gerado's Carribean Barbeque and Grill." It's finished with a neon flamingo. "Sure… I guess…" I mumble.
The host is a tan Indian in his mid-twenties. He's also half naked. He flashes us a wide, white-toothed grin. He says, "Welcome to Gerado's," in a soft, feminine voice, "you're magical getaway for the alternative lifestyle. Are you together?"
He's wearing a turban, and a multicolored skirt that glows in the black light. How can a person have a chest that completely free of hair?
It takes a moment for my eyes to lift off of his abs, "Errrr…. Table for two?" I raise two fingers.
"Right this way," he says, picking up two green-and-pink menus and leading us to a flamingo-colored booth.
As we walk, following his satin bottom, I can't help but notice two long-haired men kissing in the corner of the bar. There are no women, only men, and though I don't see a dance floor, I can hear music pounding away in another room. There are glittering men everywhere, men half-naked, men in drag, men smoking… save for one family of four that is sitting white-faced and out-of-place. "Snnnnape!" I whisper hoarsely, "Severus… we're in a… queer place!"
"Please just sit," he whispers back, "I'm soooo hungry. I just want to eat…"
"Here you are," says the turban-clad gentleman. "You're waiter will be right with you."
We sit on the flamingo-padded booth. I can't stop staring at the snogging couple across from us. They're both wearing leather.
Severus looks around coolly. "This is a really gay bar."
He looks at the menu. I stare at him.
"You're just realizing this, now?" The boys across from us are using way too much tongue.
"No… just… gayer than my standards."
"Gayer than gay?"
"It's gayocity on the scale of one to ten is…" he sways a little. "Gay."
"You drank a little too much," I say, concern in my voice.
"I just need food, I'll be…"
"Why! Aren't you a cute couple?"
A blond waiter appears, whose bellybutton is four inches from my elbow. Oh, no… people are going to think we're a couple. It hardly matters, I don't know any of these people, but…
"The specialty drink of the day is a mango-tango margarita with peaches. The specials are a happy-tappy fajita, which is with habanero sauce, and a Publeo Pecan Codfish, which is fresh slice of cod over couscous with a sweet pecan sauce and beets." The waiter says this at break-neck speed, siphoning out the napkins and silverware. He lifts his small pad of paper, "What can I get you to drink today?"
"I'll have that mango-tango thing," says Snape.
"Severus!" I scold him. I'm worried about how much he can drink before he pukes.
He just gives me a "shut-up, mum" look, and I snap my mouth shut.
"Um… I'll have that…er … banana-smoothie thing…" I point to my menu.
"Sounds good! I'll be back in a jiffy!" says the topless man.
Severus licks his lips, and stares at his menu. I can't take my eyes off of him, because I think that if they wander, I might see something even gayer and I might lose my lunch. There's glitter on my hands already, how did that happen? "What are you getting?" he asks me.
"Um… that pecan thing I guess…"
"I think I might get a pasta thing."
"There are no pasta things. I looked. It's a Caribbean place."
"Maybe I'll get a salmon thing."
"Maybe you'll get a chicken thing."
Snape grins, "Or a beef thing…"
Something tan and big just passed by me.
"Severus…" I whisper.
He doesn't respond; he's still idly flipping his menu.
"Severus…" I whisper through my teeth.
"Emmm?" He murmurs. "What?"
"Severus…don't look right now… Don't. Look. But I think that guy over there is… naked."
The corner of his lips twitches upwards. Elegantly, or as elegantly as possible when one is sloshed, he lifts an elbow on the booth top, and peers a glance at the black-haired man. The family of four has gotten up. Their little girl is crying. Severus turns back to me with a grin from cheek to cheek. "Starkers!" says Severus, "except…" he tosses another glance, "a loin cloth… uh, oh."
"Uh, oh?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Hide! No… shit."
The tan mass that I've been averting my eyes from suddenly heads our way.
"Hi! My name is Sirius, may I take your diner order this eve…"
Sirius blinks.
I blink.
Severus blinks.
"S-s-s-s-sirius?" I whisper.
My best friend's gray eyes are wide and terrified. His gloriously nude body is suddenly tense. "This is a dream," he says bringing the pen and notepad to his face. "This is a dream, and I am going to wake up."
"Sirius," I say, calmly this time. "It's… I'm…"
"We just wandered in!" Severus says a little too loudly. "We didn't know it was… you know… and it's so late that we thought no one else would serve us…" Sirius is still shaking his head as though he didn't believe Snape was really there.
"Sirius… it was an accident… Severus and I… we're not going out, right Severus?"
He nods feverishly.
Sirius is now looking at me with those wide, fearful, gray eyes.
"It's ok. I already know you're gay. And this isn't much different. I haven't told anyone."
Sirius makes a noise that Padfoot makes in his sleep, a sort of moan-whine. He points at Severus.
"Oh! He won't tell either, right Snape?" I say.
Severus stares Sirius blankly in the eyes. He then sighs and says, "Sirius, I've known you were gay since fifth year. I haven't told anyone yet, so I probably won't bother now."
To my great pleasure Sirius doesn't take offense at this. He nods towards his bare flip-flopped toes. "Lily?" he asks in the same manner that Aberforth did earlier.
"What about Lily?" I'm getting annoyed that so many people are asking me about her. What? Did they expect us to be joined by the hip?
"Does she know?"
"Does she know about what?" Snape snarls. He looks ready to punch something. He seems irrationally angry; he really did drink too much.
"Sirius," I say imploringly, "We," I point to Snape and then me, "are not," I slice my hand horizontally in front of my chest, "dating. We wandered in. We were hungry. We want to eat. Food."
"In a gay bar?"
"I-Didn't-Know-It-Was-A-Gay-Bar!" I hiss through my teeth. The two boys in leather have stopped snogging and are looking at us. I wish they would kiss again and stop whispering. "We-Wandered-In. Are-You-Going-To-Feed-Us-Or-Aren't-You?"
The blond is back with our drinks. He hands me a banana smoothie and Severus his mango-tango thing.
Quite frankly, I've never felt gayer.
"Trying to steal my tables again, Sirius?" the blond mutters under his breath.
"Er…" Sirius still looks like someone has hit him over the head with a very good Confundus charm.
The waiter slides a basket of tortilla chips and salsa and gives us a wide, fake smile. "Don't mind him," he nods his blond head towards Sirius, "he just likes to be the life of the party. Flirts with guys… scares normal folk away… you know…"
"We know each other," I say. Sirius scratches his arm, looking incredibly more naked than he did five minutes ago.
"Oh!" says the waiter. "Isn't that nice?" He turns to Sirius. "Let me just take their order and you can chat."
I order my codfish-thing, and Severus orders some-weird-taco-beef-cheesy-thing. He's inhaled half of the chips already. Sirius stands off to the side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, like how he would when McGonnagal was about to give him a detention.
Finally, in a remarkable display of likable humor that I would have never thought him capable of, Severus sips from his neon pink straw of his mango-tango margarita, puckers his lips from the tartness, an announces, "Well, I'm not going to lie. I feel really queer right now."
I snort into hysterical giggles. Sirius is semi-smiling.
"Cheers," I say, wiping tears from my eyes. My frosted banana smoothie glass clinks with his sombrero-shaped margarita. We snort and snigger for several minutes like a pair of hyenas, until our laughter dies.
"I gotta say…" Severus mumbles. "Tonight has been an interesting experience. We began by trying to go get sum grub!" Severus sways as he attempts an American cowboy accent. "Now we're at a gay bar. What do you know?"
Sirius can't seem to decide if he should smile or not. "Er… sorry, I guess…"
"Not complaining," Severus sways. "I am perfectly happy with my mango-tango-made-by-queers-for-queers drink."
"Is it good?" I ask.
"Yeah!" Severus sips at it. "Why, how is yours?"
I wave my hand a little as if to say "so-so".
Severus projects the straw into my face. I tentatively take a sip. Instantly my cheeks suction towards the insides of my mouth and my nostrils are cleared from the sheer amount of alcohol I've just tasted. "W-Wow!" My tongue is on fire with the sweetness. "Nectar of the gods!" I turn to Sirius, "Bloody Hell! Not trying to get lads drunk now are we?"
Sirius blushes. Five guys look my way. Sirius is giving me a look that Lily would normally give, a your-not-being-very-sensitive look.
"Do you want…?" I ask Severus, lifting my smoothie glass ever so slightly.
He shakes his head a little and resumes sucking down his liquid candy.
Sirius is now looking at me as though he is very angry at my behavior. The tightness in his lips is no less than McGonnagal's, and his severe eyes are glimmering with distrust. "James…" my mom would say it like that. " James… may I speak with you in private?"
He's using a perfected and acute form of English, so that every syllable would resonate fear down my spine. I can only grin in a silent, are-you-serious type fashion, before his nude hand grabs my arm and steers me in the direction of the very populated (very not-private) bar.
I glance back at Severus who is nibbling at a chip and staring sadly at the two men kissing. One arm on the table, he lets out a sigh. "Sirius…" I utter, "You're being so rude."
"I'm?!" Sirius, my friend, my pal, stutters. "Have you gone insane?"
"I'm just trying to get something to eat. Honestly, Sirius. I really just don't swing that way, you know that."
He takes shaky, growling breaths, closes his eyes and I'm sure he is counting to ten inside his own head.
"You look handsome," I say to cut him off.
He points his finger at me, "Don't!"
"Don't what?"
"Don't bloody butter me up like I'm you mum or the bloody headmaster!"
"I saw him earlier…"
"Don't change the subject!"
I grin a little.
"Listen. I'm going to ignore the fact that you showed up at my work, a gay bar. I'm going to ignore that your having problems with Lily and the engagement. I'll even ignore the fact that you sucked his straw." Sirius wipes his forehead, somewhat hysterically. "But bloody hell, James! Snape? Of all the people to hang around?"
"You were busy…"
"Snape. James. Snape. We've talked about how much we picked on him in school. And you're right. You're right. We were horrible to him. He deserves an apology…"
"I'm not having dinner with him like he's some charity case."
"Well, what is he then?"
I close my mouth. "He's…" I glance at our table. Severus is sipping at his drink, looking very lonely. "He's…" A few guys wink at him as they pass by, so he slides his ankles on the booth across from him to save me a seat. "He's a… friend…"
I sound so childish as I say this. "A friend." I try to say it in a more manly way.
"Since when are you friends with death eaters?"
Sirius' statement slices across my heart, bringing images of Voldemort with his red pupil-less eyes, and armies, and green spells, and genocide…
"There's no proof of that."
"Have you even been looking? Aren't you an auror?"
I glance at him again. Severus… I've fooled myself into thinking that name is sweet. That Snape could only be here to listen to my voice and dance with me on subways. For some reason Sirius' irrational accusation makes more sense to me than Remus' or Moody's small comments. "Albus wasn't… Dumbledore encouraged us. He told us we should be friends."
"Yeah, well. He also thinks wizards and goblins should be friends. Fat chance."
Sirius is pointing a finger in my face again, "I swear." His face is contorted with emotion. It's almost comical against the glitter on his eyelashes. Almost. "If you utter one word about the order or the ministry to that… that…" he steadies himself, "then… let it be on your own head."
The lecture is over then. I can tell. Our shoulders rub as I walk past him.
Severus removed his ankle from my seat, smiling up at me. Two steaming plates of sustenance gleam colorfully. "You didn't have to wait for me to eat," I say softly.
"I might be in a gay bar, when someone is talking about me behind my back, but I do have good manners," Severus motions for me to sit down.
I smile half-heartedly.
We devour our meal in silence. The fish is bright and lemony on my tongue. I'm sure it would taste better if I could only stomach it. I feel a weight of wriggling emotions in my belly, guilt and embarrassment for indeed talking behind Severus' back, but also anxiety and worry, did he have other intentions? I always get the feeling that there's more to him that meets the eye. Is this it? He wants information out of me?
"I don't care what he said about me," Snape says, and the belches loudly, "Sorry. That was really good," I notice that he has already finished his tacos. "Are you always this slow at eating? Anyways… Black seems to have told you something about me. Well, I don't care what it was. I just promise you that I'm not trying to break into the ministry of magic. Or Hogwarts. Or Gringotts. I'm not trying to kill anyone in the Order of the Phoenix. I'm not trying to poison anyone. And I'm not trying to kill you. Happy?"
"Course a Slytherin would say that."
He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Just eat your dinner. Oh… And I haven't slept with anyone in six months so the gay rumors just aren't true either."
"And what would that have to do with me?" I raise an eyebrow over my pecan-juiced codfish, one eye curving over my glasses.
Oddly enough, Snape flushes, "Nothing."
It's only after I've taken about four more bites of cod that I blush myself. I can hear Sirius voice in my head again. His incredulous whine, "You sucked his straw!" Had I not just been holding Severus' hand less than an hour ago? The wriggling snakes in my stomach make way for sunlit warmth. I stuff my face some more.
I've been denying to people that there wasn't anything between us for a good four hours now. Don't blame me for being a little slow on the uptake. "I w-wouldn't care either way. It's really none of my business…" What is this… this… for the lack of a better word… this thing between us? I run through the past few days in my head. Perhaps it would make more sense if I look at this more objectively:
1. We met randomly.
Sounds like at date already. I remind myself that people meet randomly all the time without it being dates.
2. We smoked grass together.
Happens…
3. I apologized to Severus for beating him up in school.
A courageous, Gryffindorian thing to do, right.
4. We go eat food.
Not unusual at all. A man has to eat. It might be in someone else's company at the time, regardless.
5. We make plans to meet on a Tuesday.
Plans. This is harder to siphon off. People make plans to do things. It doesn't make us… doesn't make me…
6. Plans are thwarted. Fail to eat.
Eating at Manjano's wouldn't have been as gay. We would have maybe talked to Mimbly, had some pasta and left.
7. We are now in a gay bar, a little tipsy, cracking jokes and having a jolly good time.
How did this happen?
I choke a little on my codfish. Severus pats my shoulder. People have been asking me about Lily all bloody night, why hadn't anyone told me how queer I looked?
Except… they had.
We aren't dating. We aren't. I don't know what Severus may think, but I'm not dating him.
Severus is smiling a half-smile, "You alright? Don't die." I nod and cough into my fist. How did this happen? This warm, kind smile is splayed across Severus', Snivelus', face. The sort of dopey smile one wears when one sees and elderly couple holding hands. Only it doesn't make him look more stupid…
"What's wrong?" His face falls. He's probably noticed how white my face is.
I let a shuddering breath escape my trapped lungs.
"James?"
"I…I-I… I…" I whisper, realizing that I love the way he says my name. It makes my heart quiver with excitement. "I gotta pee."
I realize that this is the case only after I say it.
"Oh." Severus peers around, looking for a restroom sign. "You know, James…" there it is again, "I don't think you should use these restrooms."
"Why?"
He blushes, "I just think it's a bad idea."
I raise an eyebrow, "Why?"
He blushes more deeply, "I've just… heard rumors… about…"
"About what?"
"About people getting molested."
"Huh?"
"You know what they say about gay bar restrooms, honestly. If someone isn't having sex in a stall then someone is going to grab your…"
"Severus! You're prejudiced against your own kind?"
"I'm not prejudiced. Just pessimistic." Severus pulls his hair back, tying it in a ponytail; the light finally falls on his delicate features. "I just don't want you to have to unwillingly loose your queer virginity to some guy in the booth."
"I'm touched."
"That's what I'm trying to avoid!"
We both laugh.
"Alright, let's just get the check and I'll run in somewhere," I say.
Just as Severus opens his mouth to complain about the waiter taking a long time, the blond is instantaneously there. It's odd how that works.
Only we have to turn him right around when we ask for different checks. He just assumed we were a couple. I wondered whom he thought was going to pay. Who was the dominant husband of the relationship? It's me. I know it's me.
Finally, after we split the bill and the tip, we head out the door. I don't even bother to try and find Sirius this time, and Snape doesn't even suggest it.
We start walking, and as I head into the bar next door, Snape hisses, "That one is a gay bar too." And that next one, upon further inspection, "Yes, that one too. Perhaps we should just get off of this street…"
We take a left, and then a right further down. I can hear music over the traffic noise. I'm drawn to it, like a moth to the flame. I can hear it in the distance:
"Folk's here's the story 'bout Minnie the Moocher
she was a red hot hoochie coocher
she was the roughest, toughest frail
but Minnie had a heart a big as a whale."
It's a slow sort of jazzy tune. I realize that we're holding hands again. But the warmth of his palm is not unwelcome.
As we draw nearer I see, not neon lights, but a great wooden sign. "Speakeasy's!" is spelled out in painted wooden letters. A soft sort of red glow radiates from the place and the sounds are sweet and slow. "How about this place?" I ask Severus.
He nods.
"She had a dream about the king of Sweden.
He gave her things that she was needin'
He gave her a home built of gold and steel
A diamond car with platinum wheels."
Suddenly the tempo kicks up, and people around me are singing in response to a black man with a white suit. He has a ten-man band behind him. Trombones, trumpets, a piano man, a drummer, three saxes and a base player. I let go of Severus' hand and march toward the back, where the restroom is decorated with a hundred posters.
I don't get a good look at the people as I pass, but I can tell everyone is dancing and singing. Hopefully I can find Severus when I get out.
"He gave her his town house and a thousand horses
Each meal she ate was a dozen courses
She had a million dollars worth of nickels and dimes
And counted them all a million times."
I wash my hands and return from the, thankfully, empty restroom to find Severus almost completely surrounded by women outside.
A rather ugly redhead was lighting him a cigarette. He puffed it, looking bored. I want to push her freckled hands off of him.
"Poor Min.
Poor Min
Poor Min!"
Attempting to not look annoyed, I stroll to him, and whisper in his ear, "Want a drink?"
He links his arm in mine, gives the cigarette back to the woman, and we walk inside.
The black man in the suit is introducing his next song as we walk in, "Wid a Hidehi and a hodeho! Hey all you cool cats, we're gonna take it down a bit for the closing numba'. One o' ma favorite songs, St. James Infirmary!"
Several people whistle at that.
The sounds that emit from that trumpet move me in the way that music rarely does. Walking to the bar soon becomes slow dancing to the bar. The old sort of swing has everyone moving, even the singer.
Severus grins at me and lets me pay for his scotch, downing it nearly in one gulp.
"I went down to St. James Infirmary
And I saw my baby there
She was stretched out on a long white table
So cold
So pale
So Fair
Let her go, let her go… God bless her
Wherever she may be…
She can look this wide world over
She'll never find a sweet man like me."
I drink myself, staring up at this stylish old man over the rim of my glass. This place isn't a queer place, but it's not really a straight place either. Everyone is dancing with everyone as the piano beats away, and the blues rolls on.
So I am not at all surprised… or maybe I am… when Severus pulls me down for a kiss.
"When I die bury me in my straight lace shoes (so I can run from the devil)
I wanna box back coat with a Stetson hat.
Put a fifty dollar gold piece on my watch chain.
So the boys'll know that I died standing pat."
Give me 6 gamble'n bearers
Let the chorus girls sing me a song
Get a jazz band on my tailgate
So we can raise Halleluja as we go along…"
It's a reckless sort of kiss, not at all really planned or thought out. I can tell by the way his lips mush into mine, by the soft sigh that escapes him. I love the calm way he plays with my collar, the lazy licks of his tongue against my lip. It's long and languid.
I sigh too, as if I've been waiting for this forever.
When we run out of breath, he quickly lets go at turns back toward the big band, as if the kiss hadn't happened and isn't going to happen again. My only proof of this attraction is my hand on his knee.
"Folks, now that you have heard my story
Hand me another shot of that booze.
And if anyone asks you, you tell 'em
I've got the St. James Infirmary Blues!"
"May I ask you what that was all about?" I whisper into his ear, one hand floating, possessively to his chest. "Or why it stopped?"
"I was in the mood."
"Naturally," I whisper. I can't keep the grin out of my voice. "But surely you would have liked kissing that red-head more than kissing me?"
He freezes.
"Huh, Severus?" I lick the shell of his ear. I don't know why I'm doing this. Minutes ago I was resolved that I wasn't dating him. But I can't keep my hands off him. "Do you think maybe I could have another kiss?" I bit down on his soft lobe. He squirms against me, letting me know the answer instantly. I've given up on using logic for the time being.
"Only because you asked so nicely," says Snape. His fist tugs at my tie, pulling me down for a sour kiss. His lips and tongue feel snug and soft against the roughness of his chin, scratchy from his five-o'clock shadow. I want to inhale him like smoke, to keep him around in my lungs until I breathe him out again. I want to devour his scent, but I can't because it's masked underneath the taste of cigarettes and scotch.
"Mmmm…" I hum into his mouth, and it's so sinful, so painful that I love him this way. I hope he can tell with my moan that he's the only one that does this to me. Not even Lily. Not even Sirius, Remus or Peter. Not my parents. Not anyone. I lick my lips when we pull apart. I've never felt so needy.
"Oh, dear. Potter…" he smirks at me. My face must be in a dreamy expression. It's that wild, untamable gleam in his eye, that… come-and-get-me look that he's always given me, but not like this. "Did you plan on getting me intoxicated and taking me home?"
"Taking… you… home?" I whisper. Does he mean back to my place? That would be kind of awkward to explain to my parents: Hey, mum and dad. Do you remember that kid that I used to beat up in school? Yeah… the one that Dumbledore sent you letters about? Remember how I used to get in trouble and you used to give me long lectures about 'violence is not the answer'? Well, we're kinda… sorta… dating. Oh and… by the way… I think I might be homosexual…
"You know where I live, don't you?" Severus smiles, dreamily, back at me. "All you need now is a key."
"A key? Really?" I can barely contain my excitement; Lily hasn't even given me her key yet…
"But I'll give it to you only one condition…"
I'm still waiting for the condition when he kisses me again, sucking my bottom lip. He bites my lip like the vampire he is. His eyes are closed in concentration, and I can't help but stare even though it's making me cross-eyed and… oh!
"Hey you!" says the bartender. "You! Get a room, will ya?"
My lips suction off of his, making a noise one would expect from a broken toilet. "We should go…" I say.
We stalk off, out the door and onto those welcoming black streets. "My place?" Severus whispers. I nod.
He grasps my hand.