AN: This chapter is a little disjointed, and I'm sorry for that. but still, PLEASE REVIEW!! I am a review whore!

Disclaim Her: HBP did not happen.

It's only forever

Not long at all

The lost and the lonely

That's the Underground.

-the underground, from Labyrinth

(REWRITE)

Harry took a drag from the joint he held in his right hand, the smoke clouding his vision, making the world less sharp, more hazy and blurred. He was sitting up in his bed, with the curtains drawn, contemplating the conversation he had had with the Potions Professor earlier that night. What had he been thinking? Opening up to Snape, of all people? But it didn't really matter. No harm had come of it, and in a hundred years Snape would be dead, and Harry would be the only one who even remembered that such a conversation had taken place.

"Oh, god, you're having another 'centaur moment', aren't you?"

Ron was standing there, having pulled the curtains back, staring at Harry with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Harry smiled faintly. "Hey Ron."

He exhaled, blowing the smoke into Ron's face. Smiling slightly at the look on his face, Harry asked, "Do you regret it?

"Regret what?"

Harry gestured between the two of them. "..This."

Ron stared for a moment, then sat down on the bed with him. "Wow, mate, you really are busy thinking deep thoughts and shit. No, I don't regret it."

Harry nodded, then asked, "Will you regret it a thousand years from now?"

"No."

"Not even when everyone you know and love is dead?"

Ron laughed, and pulled Harry into a hug. "Everyone I know and love won't be dead. I'll have you and Hermione, stupid."

Harry grinned wearily, then looked away. "I think I'll regret it, though."

Ron sighed exasperatedly. "Yeah, but you're the one who didn't have a choice, so you don't get to regret it, okay?"

Harry smiled, and leaned over to kiss Ron softly, before getting up and heading to the bathroom. "Okay. Thanks."

Ron just laughed.

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"Hurry up, we want to get there before the humans flood the place!"

Harry giggled, which was very unusual for him, and slung his arm around Hermione's petite shoulders. "Don't worry, Hermione, the Underground isn't going to crawl away while Ron gets ready."

Ron stepped in just then, and both Harry and Hermione grinned, ready to go. "Come on," Hermione said, and grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him towards the door.

Grinning, Harry and his friends made their way down the tunnel that led to Hogsmeade, where they could apparate to the Underground.

-----------------------

They had been there for a good three hours, and had not even begun to get tired, but Harry headed over to the bar, if only to get something to drink. As he neared it, though, he caught sight of someone that he was almost positive should not have been there.

"Fuck! Snape, do you spend every night here?" Harry threw himself onto the stool next to where Snape was leaning on the bar.

"I could ask the same of you, Potter."

Harry leaned his head back so he could look into the professor's eyes. "Well, the answer to that would be yes. I see you aren't drunk tonight. Yet, that is," he added, rather meanly.

Snape glared at him, then returned to his drink. "Don't you have some other poor fool to bother, or are you intent on ruining my night?"

Harry laughed. "Why haven't I seen you here before? I spend an awful lot of time at the bar, but the first time I saw you was last Saturday...were you looking for me?"

Snape gave him a withering glare. "Unfortunately," he drawled. "The headmaster was interested in where his 'boy wonder' spends his nights. I suppose he expected me to keep you from sullying your virtue. Though it seems to be a bit late for that," he said, his eyes raking over Harry's body. Harry would have blushed, had there been enough blood left in his body to do so.

"So, you came once and couldn't leave, hmm?"

Snape snorted. "I must admit, the drinks here are much better than the pitiful excuse for alcohol they serve at the Hog's Head."

Harry leaned closer. "So, Professor, are you planning on sitting here drinking the night away?"

Snape backed away slightly. "Potter, you are too close."

Harry snickered, and returned to his relaxed position. "And you, sir, are too uptight. You need to have some fun. Get laid..."

Snape gave him a death glare. "That was out of line."

"Ah," Harry sighed. "You are definitely not drunk." Shooting another look at Snape, he murmured, "Too bad...I was in the mood for something...different, tonight."

The glare tripled in strength. "Are you insinuating something, Potter?"

Harry grinned, and struck an outrageous pose. "Do you want me to be insinuating something?"

Snape leaned forward, taking a breath as if to say something, but stopped. And pulled back. "I would be careful what you say, Potter. It might cause someone to do something you'd regret."

"I've decided to give up regretting things," Harry said, putting his feet up on the bar, despite the glare from the Bartender. "I find it just wastes my time and makes me impossible to hold a conversation with."

"You're already impossible to hold a conversation with," Snape said, smirking.

"I know."

After a moment or so of silence, Snape sighed. "You aren't going to leave me alone, are you?" When Harry shook his head, he groaned. "Where are your fuck buddies, Potter? Surely they're missing you."

Grimacing at the term 'fuck buddies', Harry quickly scanned the club for the pair. He spotted then close by, dancing together. Though, the longer he watched, the more it looked like they were having sex standing up, rather than just dancing. He smirked. The two of them were going to have a long eternity.

"I doubt they're interested in anything but each other at the moment, actually."

Snape followed Harry's gaze and almost gagged at the sight. "One wonders what you see in them."

Harry shrugged. "They'll have me, I guess."

"Surely that is not the only reason."

"No."

He left it at that, and Snape nearly growled in frustration. "What are you doing here?"

Harry gave him an odd look. "I'm having fun, what does it look like?"

Snape shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You don't belong here, Potter, you should be..." He struggled for the words.

"Virginal? Pure? Or, maybe, I don't know, not a vampire?"

Sighing in defeat, or something like it, Snape nodded. "Yes."

Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Not much to do about it now, though, is there?"

He glanced at Snape, his eyes dancing, and Snape couldn't remember what he had been about to say. "I-Potter-you-"

"Maybe you should call me Harry." At Snape's horrified stare, Harry continued. "Especially if we're going to keep seeing each other here and I'm going to keep hitting on you."

Trying to keep from falling off his stool, Snape turned to the Bartender and ordered another drink.

"Another? God, Snape, just please try not to get so drunk this time?"

"I'll have you know that I have been here before, I just stopped coming...a very long time ago. I have lost my very strong tolerance."

"Fine. But I don't fancy carrying you to my suite again. Especially if it doesn't end in sex."

Snape threw his hands into the air, and Harry became aware of the fact that Snape might be a bit more drunk than he appeared. "Must everything have something to do with sex?"

Harry pretended to consider the question for a moment, then returned his gaze to Snape, who was busy drowning himself with vodka. "Yep, pretty much."

Snape turned once more to study the young man before him. "Do you have multiple personalities or something?"

Harry snickered into his hand, and responded, "No, but I do think I might be bipolar. If nothing else, I get all pissy when I'm thirsty."

He grinned, his fangs a bit more obvious than usual, and snapped playfully at the Potions Professor. Snape winced, and turned away.

"Go away, Potter. I don't need your help to pass out drunk."

Harry shrugged, smiled and walked away to join Ron and Hermione.

Snape ordered another shot.