* * *

For Krishna … as a different kind of vacation.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Thanks a million to WhiteCotton over at Severus*Sighs* for providing me with every single one of the ingenious book/essay titles mentioned in this chapter. I asked for one, she gave me five … and I re-wrote to accommodate them all, because they were too good to pass them up.

Thanks also to Starsailor for providing the musical inspiration as well as a title for this chapter, when I couldn't come up with one for the life of me.
Their new album “All The Plans” is out now. Check it out!

Chapter 42
“All the Plans”

Severus skimmed the first page of Maleveo Leant's 'Liquidus Crucio', then he skimmed the second. He stopped mid-page on the third and put the book aside. Stoically, he reached for 'Malus Quo Potieo by Diabolus Lucifus', opened it at random and let his eyes travel over the pages for a good twenty seconds before putting it to the side as well. This process was repeated with 'Mind-Altering Potions by Iain Sane' before Severus finally got up, put the book away and stalked over to his mahogany desk. There was a pile of seventh years' essays ('An Analysis of Fairy Bile') on it that all but begged him to be marked and yes, he did contemplate this option for a second … before deciding he could use a drink instead.

Yes, Severus Snape was bored.

Of course he'd be hard-pressed to admit it. Potions Masters didn't do fidgety, thank you very much. Just like they didn't do pining over their students.

A student.

And yet he was alarmingly grateful, when a knock on the door interrupted his productive … yes, keep telling yourself that, Severus! …. idleness. Pointedly ignoring the knowing smirk on the Sphinx that guarded the entrance to his personal quarters, he opened the door with flourish, to find his godson standing on the other side of the portrait hole … with a smile that resembled that of the Sphinx far too much for Severus's liking. Nevertheless, he ignored that, too.

‘What do you want?’ he asked gruffly, opening the door to let the young Slytherin walk by just the same.

‘I’m bored,’ Draco said, simultaneously presenting a chessboard. ‘Let’s be bored together.’

‘Presumptuous much?’

Grinning, Draco walked over to the little coffee table and picked up the haphazard stack of books that Severus had looked through just minutes before. Looking down on the topmost tome, he read: “Encyclopaedia of Stirring Rods, Vol XII: M-P …” He looked over at Severus and raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of the older man.

'Bored much?'

Groaning, he discarded the heavy pile on the floor next to the sofa. Then, followed by another little grunt, he picked up the now empty coffee table and carried it a few feet until it stood in front of one of the two armchairs. Severus hid a smile. Pureblood wizards were known to rarely lift a finger where they could use a wand instead, but ever since Harry, who took the “No magic outside of school” rule rather seriously, had moved in with the Malfoys, Draco was using his physical power more and more often. When the Slytherin needed to push the second armchair closer to the coffee table, however, he seemed to remember that he had once owned a wand.

'Wingardium Leviosa”, he said with a swish and a flick, and the cumbrous armchair floated into its intended spot. Draco sat down and busily set up the board. When all the figures had scrambled to their respective places, he looked at the older man expectantly.

‘Oh, come on, Severus,’ he said eventually, when the other still made no move to join him. ‘A very reliable source told me that you and Potter haven’t seen each other for almost three weeks now - Potions classes and throwing each other lovesick glances in the Great Hall not counting.’ He snickered at his own joke and was not at all intimidated by Severus’s death glare. ‘The same very reliable source – and I’m not allowed to name names, but he's got impossibly green eyes and really needs a hair cut -’ Here, Severus’s glare morphed into a warm albeit small smile before he finally sat down opposite his godson. ‘- told me that Potter is not at all pleased with this turn of events and is, quite frankly, bored out of his skull.’

‘You are quoting your source, of course.’

‘But of course,’ Draco grinned. ‘And I’m also quoting my source when I say that Potter is, by now, driving the entire Gryffindor Tower nuts with his constant need to be kept occupied. ('I wonder where he got that need from,' Severus muttered dryly.) And when Potter is irritable and bored, I can only imagine what you are.’ Here, that blasted knowing smile was back, but Severus’s mind was elsewhere.

‘But he is all right, is he not?’

It was more than obvious that his godson had yet another witty remark ready and waiting, but then Draco must have seen something in his eyes that caused him to swallow down his joke and reply with equal earnestness instead. ‘Of course he is all right, Severus. I’d be hitting this chess board over your head right about now if he wasn’t, you can be sure of that. But …’

‘But?’ Severus enquired.

‘But … and don’t tell him I told you this! … he said that he’s almost hoping to feel the pain of your separation again soon, just so you make some time for him.’

‘That blasted Gryffindor!’ Severus exploded. ‘Does he really think we don't see each other, because I don’t have time for him? Oh, Merlin's purple socks! If he wants to see me, then why does he not come down here? I cannot remember him ever having any scruples to make use of that Godforsaken Invisibility Cloak in the past!’

‘So you would let him in?’ Draco asked interestedly.

‘Of course I would let him in!’

‘Even if he wanted to spend the night?’

‘You can wipe that dirty grin off your face, junior, for that is a whole different story!’ Severus huffed. ‘But of course I would not send him away! At least not right away,’ he amended when Draco's smirk had not yet disappeared. After a little pause in which none of them spoke, Severus exploded once more.

‘That imbecilic little dunderhead! Why in Salazar’s name would he think that pining away in secret and annoying Gryffindors is preferable over coming down here?’

Draco shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for the same reason that you think pining away in secret and annoying Slytherins is preferable over inviting him down here?’

‘I do not pine away!’ Severus responded automatically. But it didn’t take long for him to reconsider. ‘Well, I suppose,’ he said, looking down on his hands, ‘that one could accuse me of the same foolish behaviour. I do miss the little runt. A little bit.’

Draco leaned back in his chair. Stretching his legs from him and putting his right hand in the pocket of his school robes, he grinned at Severus rather smugly. ‘There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

Severus snorted. ‘Well, what is your excuse for visiting your old godfather in these evening hours usually so precious to you students? Don't you have something more fun to do? You do spend a fair amount of time among Gryffindors these days, do you not?’

Draco’s face fell, although Severus doubted anyone else would have noticed, and he shrugged non-committally.

‘Hmm.’

‘Did you and your brother have a fight already?’ asked Severus, lacing the last word with much incredulity, which Draco wiped away with a snort.

‘One? Many. But none of them serious enough to scare him away, don’t worry.’

‘Then what is the problem?’

‘The problem,’ lamented Draco, ‘is that Gryffindors are fun.’

He elaborated before Severus could say anything. ‘It's like this: Gryffindors compete to get better. Slytherins compete to feel superior. Gryffindors make fun of each other. Slytherins make fun of everyone who they feel superior to, which is just about ninety-nine percent of the world’s population. Gryffindors study Dark Arts to help my brother in killing the Dark Lord. Slytherins study Dark Arts to help the Dark Lord in killing my brother.

‘Do they now?’ Severus asked. ‘All Slytherins?’

Draco sighed. ‘No, of course not. But all Slytherins I pretend to be friends with, they do. That’s the kind of Slytherin I represent, Severus! It’s how everyone thinks I am.’

‘Everyone?’ Severus asked again.

‘No, not everyone!’ Draco huffed. ‘But … oh, for Merlin’s sake, Severus, can’t I be allowed to mope and wallow in self-pity for once? I’m related to Harry Potter now, so dramatizing things should be my prerogative.'

Severus smiled, unwilling to show how much Draco’s unhappiness worried him. But it seemed that now wasn’t the right time to remind his godson of his duties and obligations as a Malfoy and so he didn’t interrupt again, when Draco continued his rant:

‘Not all Slytherins are evil and stupid and ignorant, you don’t need to tell me that. But the ones who are not can’t be my friends, because I cannot be seen associating with anyone who doesn’t kiss the hem of Voldemort’s robes. Nor would those Slytherins want to be friends with me, because to them I’m the worst of the lot. And others, like Zabini or Nott, only pretend to be my friends, because they only pretend to be evil gits like me. I’m tired of pretending, Severus! I’m tired of my father’s ‘No friends’ rule! I’m tired of being this … this … poster boy for Death Eater offsprings! I’m tired of being one of the main reasons why people dislike Slytherins. I’m tired of pretending it’s going to be wicked fun to kneel at the Dark Lord’s feet one day and feed him Harry Potter’s heart in small pieces. It was fun when pretending was the only thing I knew, but I'm no longer a child and this is no longer a game! Harry Potter is my brother now. His friends are my friends now. They are being nice to me! And they don't pretend! They never pretend, Severus! Granted, some of them may only be nice to me out of respect for Harry, but I'm sure some of them like me for real!'

Severus's heart all but broke at the childish enthusiasm in Draco's voice, but he didn't show it.

'And how do I repay them?' Draco asked. 'I stand there and smirk whenever Crabbe is making lewd remarks about Granger or when Goyle is talking about how his father is going to cut Harry’s head off with a Muggle knife,’ – Severus snorted contemptuously – ‘or when Pansy and Zabini are playing pranks on Neville … or even Weasley, for crying out loud, and I still don’t even like the git.’ Draco groaned. ‘For Merlin’s sake, listen to me, Severus. Hanging out with those bloody Gryffindors made me go soft in the head, I swear.’

‘And in the heart,’ Severus agreed, but he didn’t say it out loud. Draco didn’t need that either. The Potions Master knew Lucius’s son well enough to know when real sadness lay underneath his comedic antics. Despite what other people might think of him, Draco had long grown out of the habit of complaining for show. If one positive thing had come out of his friendship with Harry, then it was the fact that it had quenched Draco’s constant need for attention almost completely. But how was he supposed to help his godson apart from lending his ear? What could he possibly do?

As if Draco had heard the other man's silent question, he suddenly said: 'Don't worry, Severus. I'm not going to ask your permission to change my ways. Just … just do me a favour and ask Future Harry next time just how much longer we will have to wait until our Harry finally kills Voldie, okay?'

Severus nodded, a small smile playing at his lips.

Voldie?!

'I will do that, Draco.'

'Thank you,' Draco nodded as well. Then, quite suddenly, he pulled his hand from the pocket of his robes. Severus saw that he was holding his Tabulas Loquoram. Draco glanced at it and then he got up. 'Well, I'll spare you more of my whining,' he said and began to pack up the unused game.

'Draco …,' Severus began, but his godson waved him off with a smile. 'I'm okay, Severus, I just needed to vent. Really! Besides … you have more important things to do now.' He stepped in front of the Sphinx, who opened the portrait hole with a small nod of her head. Severus was too surprised to see the wink she bestowed on his godson.

'I do?' he asked. 'And what would that be?'

Draco snickered. 'You'll figure something out, I'm sure.' He waved once more before the portrait hole closed again.

Shivering, Harry wrapped himself even tighter into his Invisibility Cloak. 'Come on now,' he whispered, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. He checked his Tabulas Loquoram once more, but it still showed the words he had written on it earlier:

“Standing right outside.”

But then, after what seemed like an eternity to Harry (The dungeons really are quite draughty, aren't they?), the portrait hole in front of him opened and Draco came walking out. 'You'll figure something out, I'm sure,' he called over his shoulder and waved before he turned back around.

'All yours,' he whispered in the direction he suspected Harry to be standing in.

'Thanks,' Harry whispered back and briefly touched his brother's arm before he slipped inside Severus's quarters as the portrait began to close. Severus stood with his back to him and as Harry tip-toed closer, he could see that the other man was pouring himself a drink. When his glass was full, Severus put the bottle aside and began to raise the drink to his lips … but then his arm stopped midway. A few seconds passed before the teacher put the firewhisky back down abruptly and whirled around.

'WHO'S THERE?!”

Ignoring he fluttering of his heart, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off his head. 'Tadaaa!', he said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and feeling like an idiot in the next moment. 'Draco wrote that you wanted to see me.'

He pulled the cloak further off his shoulders and threw it over the back of Severus's velvet couch (hoping he looked mighty suave doing so). He knew there was nothing to be done about his electrically charged hair, but Harry hoped Severus would at least appreciate his outfit. After all he was wearing the smart white shirt with long sleeves and navy pinstripes that the older man had eyed with particular interest the day Narcissa had bought new clothes for him and a matching pair of snugly-fitting blue jeans that Draco had assured Harry he was filling out “surprisingly well for such a scrawny little git”.

The Potions Master had not yet said anything, but the way he was staring at Harry was so intense that the boy had to turn away, flushing. 'I always wondered what your quarters would look like,' he said as he looked around.

'I do hope you approve,' the Potions Master finally spoke. He sounded rather wooden, but Harry knew that this wasn't due to anger - Severus's eyes had spoken volumes! And then, somehow, Harry understood, no, he felt that his mate was as nervous as he was. Bravely, he put the picture frame he was currently holding back into its place on the mantelpiece and turned around with a smile.

''Course I do,' he said warmly as he stepped in front of the other man. 'And do you know what I like best about them?'

'I shall hope it's the vast amount of books,' quipped Severus, apparently retaining his composure. 'But that would be tad too optimistic, would it not?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Actually I was going to say “You standing in them” or something equally sappy, but thank you for ruining my first ever attempt at being romantic.'

Severus swallowed. 'You're welcome,' he said. Then: 'Sorry.'

'It's quite all right. You can make it up to me by kissing me,' Harry suggested graciously.

And to Harry's surprise, Severus really did.

Instantly, Harry felt his legs turn to jelly and he had to wrap his arms around the other man to stay standing. When Harry's kisses became more and more urgent, however, Severus pulled back.

'Harry,' he said. 'We should not do this. It's … inappropriate.'

Severus's mouth twisted at this last word as if he was fighting the Imperius Curse, which gave Harry enough confidence to argue. 'No, it's not. I'm sixteen now, Severus, and I really want this.'

He closed the unbearable distance between them by wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck once more. 'And although I'm not as good as you are with the whole soulmate mind-reading stuff yet, I know you want it, too.'

'You don't have to be a mind-reader to figure that out,' Severus muttered just when Harry bumped into his erection.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise when he felt the hardness against his own and for a moment he was torn between the desire to gasp or to giggle. In the end, he settled for pressing his himself even closer.

'We're at school,' Severus tried, but his sensible words ended in a lust-filled groan when Harry's hips gave an experimental rock.

'I know,' Harry grinned. 'Isn't that exciting?' He rocked against Severus again and the man gasped, but somehow managed to extricate himself from Harry's embrace. 'We need to stop!' he said, trying to convince himself as much as Harry. 'We are at school and here I am your teacher. Your guardian. Your -'

'Mate.' Harry interrupted firmly. 'You're still my mate!'

'Yes,' Severus said. His voice was now full of love and this time it was he who closed the gap between them by reaching out a hand for Harry to hold. 'I'm your mate first and foremost, Harry, but here at school I'm also your teacher. It is my job to be your teacher. I get paid to be your teacher.'

Harry smirked. 'Then today must be your lucky day, Professor, because I can think of at least twenty things you could teach me right now and none of them even requires a cauldron or-, ' he glanced at the pile of books next to the couch, 'an “Encyclopaedia of Stirring Rods”.'

'Aren't I lucky indeed?' Severus asked dryly. But apparently Harry's argument had convinced him, because the teacher suddenly pulled him close and all but crushed Harry's lips with his own. For long moments they kissed each other fiercely and Severus did not stop his assault until Harry broke back gasping for air.

'Wow! I- I like your- your way of teaching, Professor.' Impatiently, Harry began to pull at Severus's robes, but the older man stilled his hands with his own.

'Easy, Harry,' Severus said. 'I may want this as much as you do, but I will not have sex with you while we're at school. Not until you're fifty-eight and I'm long retired anyway.' he added as an afterthought and Harry laughed.

'Fine! Just kiss me again, okay?' he asked, still at little breathlessly and not caring how needy he must sound. 'We don't have to go all the way, but I really need to kiss you.'

Severus smiled.

'In that case I'm thinking today's first lesson today shall be 'How to have fun while your clothes stay on.'

A wave of excitement and anticipation coiled down the moving staircase, nauseating Severus with its intensity even before he heard the source of such intense emotions – a bunch of wizard teenagers, what else?! – trampling downstairs and into the Entrance Hall like a horde of piqued centaurs. It was four o’ clock in the morning and on any other day the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts would have been rather quiet and deserted still, with the exception of the house elves responsible for preparing the breakfast inside the adjoining Great Hall.

Severus all but sighed.

Three dozen Sixth Years were bad enough confined within the wards of a magical boarding school. To let them loose in Muggle London would probably result in … well, the equivalent to a Muggle nuclear war, most likely. Severus, who had been assigned to supervise the students' departure together with Minerva and William Copley, watched their gathering silently and, frankly, with not much interest. And whatever interest he had, of course, had little to do with supervision, but everything with trying to spot his undersized Intended among the crowd.

Then, however, his attention was drawn to a rather peculiar sight: A student usually known for his anxiousness not to draw anyone's attention onto himself – least of all his, Severus knew – was now, none too gently, pushing his way to the front. Neville Longbottom was so tall by now that his head and shoulders protruded easily from the small crowd and Severus was so fascinated by the sight of the usually so gentle and soft-spoken Gryffindor elbowing people out of his way ('Oh, do shut up, Finnigan!'), that he realized that Longbottom was pulling someone along only when Harry Potter appeared next to Neville at the front line. And although Severus did notice with some satisfaction that Longbottom still couldn't bring himself to quite meet his eyes, the Gryffindor did look surprisingly smug in such close proximity to his Potions Master - an effect that wasn't ruined even when Harry shoved his elbow into the other boy's rips – hard. The smaller boy scowled up momentarily and the other rolled his eyes in return, but then seemed to school his features into a neutral position. Before Severus could even begin to ponder Longbottom's odd behaviour, Harry's eyes met his and began to twinkle like two emeralds in the sun.

Severus straightened unnoticeably and used up half his will-power not to smile back foolishly or otherwise draw attention to the fact that he was oh so suddenly happy to be where he was – even at this ungodly hour and no coffee within reach. He did, however, afford a nervous twitch to affect his right eye once, hoping that Harry would interpret it as something other than a tell-tale sign of dire irritation. And so Harry did, if the delighted grin was anything to go by, but luckily the boy had enough of a mind to quickly hide it by looking down and fiddling with the zipper of his hooded cardigan. But then, suddenly, his head snapped back up and he stared darkly in Severus's direction. Severus blinked in surprise, but his silent question was answered immediately, when William Copley appeared at his left, nudging Severus good-naturedly. When he also leaned in to whisper 'Good morning, Severus! It's been quite a few years since I last saw you up at this hour of the night, hasn't it?', Harry's eyes took on the colour of wet moss. And even though Severus knew the surrounding chatter of his peers had made it impossible for Harry to hear Copley's suggestive remark and the ridiculous emphasis the teacher had put on the word “up”, the boy's stance changed. Severus could practically feel every muscle in Harry's body tensing - a predator waiting for the right moment to close in on his unsuspecting prey. And although he was slightly irritated by the fact that Harry still had not learned to cover up his emotions, Severus could not deny that he was flattered, too. Also, the sight of a possessive soulmate was incredibly … sexy. However, the Potions Master did not mean to provoke his young mate and so he ignored the sudden twitching in his groin and swiftly stepped aside to put some distance between him and Copley.

'Have you come to me for a reason, William, or are you quite satisfied with mocking me and my morning routine?'

Copley chuckled. 'Ah! Let bygones be bygones, huh?'

'Indeed,' replied Severus coldly. And when he saw Minerva beginning the head-count, he gladly seized the opportunity to step away even further. 'Now if you would help me do your job ...? I don't have all day.'

This seemed to remind William Copley of something. 'Now that is why I came to you, actually,' he grinned. 'We will leave to London sans young Draco Malfoy today, it seems.'

'Why?' Severus demanded. Already, his eyes began to scan the students for the one in question.

'Apparently, Mr. Malfoy has suddenly been affected by an upset stomach and now feels quite unable to join us on our little venture,' William replied and Severus could barely restrain his anger at the badly faked concern and complete lack of regret in the other man's voice. Just because William Copley wasn't man enough to handle any rebellious students of his (and Severus knew Draco had gone out of his way to belong in this category), did not mean he could happily neglect his duties as their custodian.

He bit back a scathing reply when he finally found Draco, much to his surprise, not in the front but only the second row of students, almost completely hidden behind Millicent Bulstrode, who was currently yawning so widely that Severus would have been able to see her tonsils, had he not been so preoccupied.

Draco looked dreadful.

Although the young Slytherin looked down on the floor, it was easy to see how pale the boy's face was, save from a few red blotches on his cheeks.

'Draco,' Severus addressed him not without concern, 'why are you not in the infirmary yet?'

Draco's eyes flew upwards at the tone of his voice only to dart to his left immediately, almost feverishly. Severus followed his gaze and found Neville Longbottom frowning – yes, almost glaring! - back at his godson.

'I wi- will in go in a minute, Professor,' Draco stammered. 'O- only I had hoped that maybe I would feel better soon, so I cou- could still go to London.

A few students chuckled quietly – probably because it was obvious that the only place Draco would be going to today was the infirmary. Chuckling even quieter, William Copley strolled over to Minerva who had summoned him to help her with a single warning glare.

Severus wondered whether he could hex him with Burning Boils unnoticed.

'Nonsense,' he snapped at Draco instead. 'You're practically swaying on your feet. See Madame Pomfrey immediately. Mr. Goyle, you will escort Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary.'

'No!' Draco protested, his voice at least two octaves higher than usual. 'He doesn't have to! I can go on my own!'

Gregory grinned. 'Come on, Malfoy, you know you want an escort as pretty as me.' He batted his eyelashes and, good-naturedly, put an arm around the other Slytherin as he began to trod up the stairs.

'No, really, it's okay!' Draco squeaked. But he seemed to realized that he had little chance to escape the much stronger boy at his side and so – after one last panicked look back over his shoulder into Harry's general direction – he accepted his fate and shuffled along miserably.

Frowning, Severus looked after him. Why in the world was his godson behaving like Pygmy Puff?!

Later, Severus Snape would tell himself that this would have been the exact moment where he would have recognized the situation for the devious ploy it was, had Harry Potter not chosen this moment to demonstrate … his saucy side.

While most of the students were oblivious to it due to their scrambling into an orderly line in order to be counted by Professor McGonagall and Professor Copley, so that they could finally be on their way to London, Severus, for one, did hear Harry Potter clearing his throat - loudly. Meaningfully. And so he glanced over and … stared.

Harry was slowly – excruciatingly so - opening the zipper of his black cardigan. And although his young mate wasn't looking at him, the small smile that was playing at his lips made it clear to Severus that this little spectacle was meant for him – and only for him. Transfixed, Severus's eyes followed the zipper's path to the the bottom until, finally, the cardigan opened and revealed a bright pink t-shirt underneath. There was some kind of logo sprawled across Harry's chest in bold Arial letters and still partly hidden by the cardigan on either side.

Written on Harry's T-shirt was “ER’S PE”.

Lily inched closer, so that she could continue to look at the drawing now in his hands. ‘Is that him?’ she whispered. ‘Is that your soulmate, Severus?’

After Sirius Black had flooded the halls of Hogwarts with copies of his damning love letter to James, every single person (dead or alive) at their school knew about Severus’s conviction to have a soulmate. It had been on top of every gossip list for a couple of weeks and then, luckily, most students had lost interest. The idea of Severus Snape loving and being loved was just too out of this world for most of them, apparently.

And that was just as well for Severus.

Even though he knew that Lily was probably the only person at Hogwarts who believed that even an unsightly and unfriendly boy like him could have a soulmate – yes, even deserved to have one – Severus had forbidden her to ever talk to him about this subject. And, surprisingly, she never had – until now.

Severus could only nod.

‘It’s not James,’ he repeated, flushed with embarrassment. ‘I know he looks an awful lot like him, but it’s not supposed to be him. I swear.’

‘Severus, I have eyes. I can see the difference,’ Lily said matter-of-factly and much to his surprise. Looking over his shoulder, she studied the picture thoughtfully. It was the portrait of a male teenager, about their age, with dark hair that looked every bit as windblown as that of James Potter, and probably withstood every non-magical effort of its owner to tame it. He was wearing round spectacles that looked very much like the pair on James Potter’s nose, but that was where the similarities ended. This boy’s features were softer than James’s and had a much more childlike quality to them; his jaw not quite so chiselled and his smile open and trusting. The boy was wearing a comfortable looking albeit rather large sweater with a hood and a zipper up front, under which the patch of a t-shirt revealed the bold letters ER’S PE. There was a curious scar in the middle of his forehead that had the exact shape of a small lightning bolt …

Severus willed himself to breathe evenly, but it wasn't easy. Yes, he had known who his soulmate was for a long time now. Yes, he had had ample time to get used to the fact that Harry Potter was growing up to be the man he had dreamed and fantasized about ever since he had been as young as Harry was now. But to see one of his soulmate visions literally coming to life in front of him was mind-boggling just the same.

Severus remembered vividly the first day he had finally succeeded in drawing his future soulmate, a day long before Harry was born. Finally Severus had been able to see the hitherto nebulous James Potter-like figure he so desired clearly enough to have his pen give it his very own features, his very own shape, his very own clothes at last: The open and trusting gaze, the amused smile, the little snub nose, the curious scar on his forehead and … and the dark jumper underneath which the letters "ER’S PE" were peaking through.

Suddenly, Harry looked directly at him. Holding Severus's eyes with his own, he brought his hands to his chest and – ever so slowly - pulled the jacket open and back over his shoulders. And although Harry's gaze was almost hypnotizing in its intensity, Severus's eyes were drawn to the slogan on Harry's chest. And – Merlin be damned! - he couldn't help it, he laughed out loud, not caring what the other students or teachers might think.

That saucy, little minx!

More than twenty years later, Severus finally found out that writing on his soulmate's t-shirt very boldly and very appropriately said …. TEACHER'S PET.

'I love fast food!' Neville Longbottom declared as he stepped out of the Burger King across King's Cross station. 'I want to marry fast food!'

Hermione, who followed him out of the door, giggled. 'I suppose one of us should have warned you about calories.'

'Yes,' Harry chimed in, 'before you proposed to Whopper number five.'

Neville wasn't fazed. 'Calories, schmalories!' he called out, merrily waving his hands in front of Harry's face. His gentle brown eyes took on a wicked gleam and his lips curled into a smirk that looked alien on this particular face. 'Who cares, teacher's pet? It's not my waist I'm ruining after all.'

Harry smirked back.

'I bet Neville said the exact same thing when Madame Pomfrey offered to pepper him up with Brownies and whipped cream.'

Draco laughed. 'That's all right, the poor sod deserves some comfort food. I bet Severus alread paid me a visit in the infirmary!'

Harry shuddered. 'He'll be fuming when he finds out we nicked his emergency batch of Polyjuice.'

'Ah, but if Severus fumes, you'll find ways to apologize. Won't you, teacher's pet?' Draco leered suggestively until Harry kicked him in the shin.

'I'll tell Neville that you've been manhandling his body.' Draco promptly deadpanned and Harry couldn't help but snicker.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. 'Let's get going,' she said. 'The Dickens Museum should be open now.'

'Yes, let's!' Draco said, putting one arm around Hermione and the other around Harry. 'Time to show our own Oliver Twist here some culture.'

'Let's go!' Hermione nodded, hooking her free arm with Ron's.

'Yes!' Harry beamed. 'Let's go!'

To be continued …

***

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