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Severus Snape didn't care about much anymore. His obscure administrative position at the Ministry kept him from outright poverty, but only just barely. Despite the fact that he'd been cleared of all wrongdoing after the war was over, he was still a pariah in the wizarding world. So he kept to himself, and did his job with little enthusiasm.

The only bright spot in his otherwise wretched existence was the occasional interaction with Harry. Although he would never tell the young man, the fact that Harry even deigned to speak to him, let alone offer his own brand of irritatingly optimistic friendship, was the only thing he had to look forward to. But then, there was no fool like an old fool, after all.

Harry, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time in his life. He was twenty-two years old, a full auror, and the war had been over for almost a year. He had a nice little flat near Diagon Alley, and for once he could do as he pleased. There was only one problem. He had no love life.

Not because he had no offers. He'd had plenty. But he had a secret. He'd had a crush, years ago, that had never really gone away. In fact, it was threatening to develop into a full-blown obsession if he didn't do something about it soon.

It wasn't as if he could discuss it with any of his friends. He could just imagine Ron's horror when he announced that he was in lust, possibly love, with Severus Snape.

It was a typical Ministry function, the kind Snape hated to attend. Of course he'd let himself be cajoled into it by the only person who might possibly wish to see him there, Harry Potter. Not that he intended to take up the popular young auror's time there. He stayed in the background, avoiding the bilious gazes of everyone else. He knew he was an embarrassment to the ministry. The deatheater they couldn't lock up. Luckily, the function was a short one, and he had every intention of going straight home afterwards.

But Harry had been looking forward to this for ages. Getting Snape out of his musty office, where maybe he could finally see him as a peer and not a student. He had people clamoring for his attention, but as often as he could he drifted near Snape, smiling and asking him how he was doing.

"I don't really see why you bother about it, Mr. Potter. I am fine. I shall be better still when the festivities," which he intoned with long-suffering disdain, "Have come to an end, and we may be released from yet another speech about the importance that carefully filed paperwork played in the defeat of... in the war," he amended.

Harry grabbed two more glasses of champagne off a passing tray and set one in front of Snape. "Just think of it as free booze," he grinned, seating himself next to Snape. He wondered how much alcohol it would take to get the older man to loosen up.

Severus smirked, but he accepted the glass and tossed most of it back in one. "The Ministry's liquor budget is insufficient to the task of entertaining me," he said sourly. "Why aren't you off 'networking' with the throngs of wizards and witches that want to kiss your heroic young arse?" He realised instantly that it was a mistake to mention Harry's arse. It only brought up inappropriate thoughts.

Harry snickered as he took a long drink of his glass, and winced. It really wasn't very good. "I got tired of that bullshit years ago," he explained. But sometimes he wished Snape liked him half as much as those people did.

"No taste for clawing your way up to Minister by the time you're 30?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. He hated to admit to himself that he respected Harry, but the sad truth of the matter was, other than Minerva, and perhaps Lupin, Harry was the only wizard Severus did have respect for.

Harry snorted. "God no," he exclaimed. "That would be so bloody boring I'd go mad!" This was the first time Harry could remember having a conversation with Snape that it seemed they were equals in some way. It gave him hope for more.

Snape smirked. He thought, eventually, Harry would actually make a decent Minister of Magic, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "Well, I can see how you'd have no use for fawning sycophants, then. However, that doesn't explain why you insist on attempting to make conversation with me."

Harry smiled. "You're easily the most intelligent, interesting person in the room," he said sincerely. He finished his wine and wrinkled his nose. "And I'm not even drunk. Yet."

"Perhaps someone spiked the champagne with something stronger. You do realise you've long since passed your Potions NEWTs, and my ability to do anything for you is quite over. Not that flattery would have worked in any case." Severus was secretly gratified, though he had no idea why Harry felt that way.

Harry laughed. He felt giddy in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. "So perhaps I'm actually sincere," he suggested. "Since I have nothing to gain."

"Of course that also tends to suggest that you are deluded and perhaps even not terribly perceptive, Mr. Potter. Assuming you were sincere." He finished off the cheap champagne with a look of distaste. "I believe it might be more enjoyable to drink elsewhere."

Harry's grin widened. "Is that an invitation, Professor?" He asked in a slightly teasing tone. Perhaps if he got Snape drunk he'd loosen up a bit.

"As I will most likely be going to a public establishment, I doubt I could stop you from joining me." He needed to stop torturing himself like this. But getting good and soused was something to pass the time, and Potter's company was marginally preferable to his own.

"I suppose that's as close to an invitation as I'm likely to get," Harry said, setting his glass down. "In fact, it's probably the most action I'll have in months," he joked.

Severus rolled his eyes and stood. "Come along then, Mr. Potter. Perhaps actually spending some time with your old nemesis will remind you just how little you actually want to."

They managed to sneak out without causing too much of a fuss, and soon found themselves in a mildly disreputable pub, a thoroughly Muggle place.

Severus steered them to a table in a dark corner. A waitress came over and he had to stop himself from ordering a firewhiskey. "Scotch, please." He turned his gaze to Harry.

Harry ordered a beer, and smiled charmingly at the waitress. She seemed flustered, and he turned the smile to Snape as she went off to get their drinks. "Alone at last," he said happily.

Severus was tempted to ask if Harry had done something to the waitress, but if he hadn't the boy would be even more smug than he already was. "How do your little friends, Weasley and Granger, fare these days?" he asked off-handedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't ask. They're engaged to be married and its all Hermione can talk about." He was happy for his friends, but when you were alone it was hard to watch.

Snape smirked. "I always wondered if you'd beat out Weasley for the fair Miss Granger's affections," he quipped. "Certainly she could do better."

Harry's eyes widened. "You thought... Oh no, she and I were only friends."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Not you type, Mr. Potter?" he asked. He realised he was taking an unusual amount of interest in the boy. He needed to stop, but he wasn't sure what normal people conversed about.

Harry shook his head, not sure if he should admit that for some time, his 'type' had been tall, dark, snarky, and completely unattainable.

Harry's lack of verbal response had Snape wondering. "Sore subject?" he asked. "You should have realised you were putting yourself in harm's way having a drink with me." As he mentioned the drinks, the thankfully arrived and Snape raised his glass.

"To putting the past behind us where it belongs," Harry toasted pointedly, holding his glass up. He wanted to look forward, not behind.

Severus veered perilously close to smiling at the younger man's facile redirection. He clinked their glasses, and muttered, "Tell that to the rest of the world."

Harry sighed. "I wish I could," he said softly. "The past holds too much sorrow." He knew Snape, of all people, would agree with that.

Severus took a deep drink of scotch. "Which is why we drink. To think of other things. Or preferably of nothing at all," he said, hoping to lighten the mood that he himself helped darken.

Harry nodded, sighing a little. He looked up at Snape and said, "Shall we try to discuss something a little more... Upbeat?" He signaled the waitress to bring another round.

"Once again I feel compelled to point out you've chosen unwisely if you were seeking upbeat discourse." He smirked a little, though.

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps not upbeat," he conceded. "But I would certainly rather listen to your voice." The alcohol was loosening his tongue.

Severus was vaguely irritated at Harry's ability to flatter him, even now. He drained his glass just as the second arrived. "My sole natural resource. Shall I tell you a story, then? Perhaps I should be employed in recording Muggle books on tape." In younger days... But thinking of that was foolishness.

Harry leaned closer, conspiratorially. "Shall I tell you a secret? Something I've never told anyone else?" He was feeling quite reckless. But he also felt as if this was the only time he'd ever have Snape alone and inebriated.

Severus found Harry's tone of voice captivating. He licked his lips. "By all means, I shall keep your confidence, Mr. Potter. What is this secret?" he asked.

Harry leaned closer. "When I was in your class," he said, "Sometimes... When I listened to your voice..." He blushed a little and looked down. "I got aroused," he said, barely above a whisper.

Severus felt like the wind had been knocked out of him suddenly. The vision of Harry Potter, sitting in his class, hard for him... "From listening to my voice?" he asked weakly.

Harry looked up shyly. "Yes. It felt like warm hands all over me," he breathed. He didn't know how to describe it better. "*All* over me," he added, in case he hadn't been clear enough.

Severus felt the temperature of the bar go up by several degrees. He was grateful for the slight buzz he was experiencing, and he took another sip of the cheap scotch. "You have an overactive imagination," he said, striving to sound dismissive but unable to stop the mellow purr in his voice from the liquor.

"Oh yeah, and I still do," Harry breathed, pressing his advantage. "I used to sit there and imagine what you wore under those robes. And how those elegant hands would feel on my body." He was almost panting now.

"Adolescent delusions aside, I'm sure you have more interesting things to occupy your dirty little mind now," he said softly. The conversation was making him uncomfortable, and unfortunately for him, not completely in a bad way. Fantasies like sharing the bed of the hero of the wizarding world were something he didn't indulge in unless unconscious. He signaled the waitress for another drink just before he tossed back the remainder of his glass.

Harry laughed softly. He'd always wanted to tell Snape this, and he was finally doing it. It felt amazing. "Oh, I think that old habits die hard," he said, staring at the older man levelly. He couldn't quite believe he was doing this.

Severus knew he had to find a way to discourage the younger man, but he was having difficulty summoning the will. "I doubt you've been pining for your old professor all these years. Am I to assume your preferences are why you weren't interested in Miss Granger?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Harry frowned a little. Had he judged Snape wrong? "I have been with both men and women. But I have definite preference for older men," he added more softly.

"Fascinating though these revelations are, Mr. Potter, I don't see what they have to do with me. Clearly I'm an inappropriate object for your... whatever," he said, eloquence escaping him in his increasing intoxication.

"Inappropriate?" Harry said, disappointment clear on his face. "We're both adults now. There's no reason..." Unless of course Snape wasn't attracted to him. He didn't think that was the problem, though.

"Yes. Inappropriate. Old enough to be your father. Reviled by the entire wizarding world. No prospects. No future. I'm sure the famous and worshipped Harry Potter deserves someone at least remotely desirable in some way. Other than the voice," he amended. He sounded pathetic to his own ears, but he wanted there to be no misunderstanding. Anything beyond casual friendship was simply ludicrous.

Now Harry was feeling annoyed. He'd hated Snape, of course, until he'd found out the whole story. But he knew now all the sacrifices the older man had made, and he realised just how alike they were in many ways. "Do you think I care what the wizarding world thinks?" he said quietly.

"You should. I understand you're possibly still traumatised by the events of last year. But that's no reason to turn your back on the world. You are young and have everything to look forward to." He was adamant that Harry was not going to waste his time and his life on a lost cause. Not that the stubborn boy seemed inclined to hear him.

Snape had the innate ability to make him feel like he was still a child, and it infuriated him. He unclenched his fist deliberately and said, "My whole life has been traumatising. And for once I want to do what *I* want to do, rather than what the world expects of me," he said tightly. Snape was refusing him, even the suggestion of something between them.

Severus frowned. "How unfortunate for you, then, that what *you* want is at the whim of another person," he purred. Perhaps a little old fashioned scolding would cure the younger man of his ridiculous notions. "I see you're every bit as self-obsessed as you were at school. The sun does not rise and set on Harry Potter's arse, and what you want makes no difference to me."

Harry's mouth was hanging open now. Suddenly, Snape seemed like a different person. Cold, sarcastic and just plain mean. Like he had been in school. "I never said that it did," he said quietly, trying not to let the hurt show.

Severus looked down into his drink. He realised he'd been harsh. Perhaps Harry wouldn't wish to speak to him anymore. That hurt him more than he wanted to think about. "I'm sorry. But you really must realise that the current line of conversation was getting a little... Ridiculous. It almost seemed as if... You had a romantic interest in me. Perhaps I was assuming too much."

"Yeah, how ridiculous would that be, right?" Harry said a little bitterly. He was hurt more than he realised. He hadn't planned this completely; he'd just wanted to get Snape alone and see what happened. "I mean, why would *you* be interested in me, after all?"

Severus frowned. "Fishing for compliments is beneath you, Harry. It should be uncomfortably obvious that any grumpy old queer would be attracted to an athletically-inclined young man like yourself."

Snape could irritate him like no other. "I'm not fishing," he said defensively. He didn't understand. If Snape was indeed interested, what was the problem?

Snape downed the remainder of his third glass of scotch. "The fact of the matter is, I will not permit you to attempt to shackle yourself to someone who would be completely incapable of making you or anyone else ever remotely happy."

Harry could only stare at Snape. "How would you know what makes me happy?" he asked softly. At least the other man was discussing it with him.

Severus wanted to roll his eyes, but he felt like he was making real progress. He stared levelly across the table at the younger man. "I can't," he said flatly. "Please drop it."

"You can't what?" Harry asked. He wasn't going to give this up. He was reasonably sure Snape was attracted to him. He was attracted to Snape. What was the problem?

Severus gave Harry his best icy death glare. "I believe it's high time I went home to my own free liquor. It's been delightful, Mr. Potter. Good evening."

"Wait!" Harry said a little desperately. "Please, S- Severus." It felt odd to use his given name. "Don't go." He felt like he'd lost something he never even had.

It took all of Severus' substantial willpower not to apologise to Harry again. He couldn't help himself. A handsome young man who he had reason to care for in his own awkward manner was begging him to stay. He wanted to whimper. He wanted a lot of things, all psychologically ruinous. "Will you cease this bizarre subject?" he asked, summoning peevishness from long years of practice.

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to drop the subject, but he also didn't want Snape to leave. "Yes," he agreed. "Please stay." He wanted to break through Snape's defences, and find out what the man underneath was like.

Severus relaxed back in his seat. "Honestly, I don't see what difference it makes. I'm sure you've plenty of other friends to pass the time with." He wanted to believe he wasn't fishing for reassurances, either, though if he was perfectly honest with himself, he couldn't completely.

"I asked *you* to come with me," Harry pointed out. Getting close to Snape was not easy, he could see that. "Why can't you just accept that?" He was gratified that the man wasn't leaving yet, though.

Severus' lips twitched. "Actually, I said I was going and you invited yourself along." He came close to smirking. "Very well, enough of that. What's new in your life, then?" he asked, hoping it would be a fresh start to the conversation.

Harry licked his lips. "Well, not much. Working, you know? Enjoying not fearing for my life every day." Wishing he had someone special....

"I must agree that the tedium of peace has been quite easy to adjust to. No Quidditch teams trying to tempt you away from your secret agent status?" he asked, keeping the topic light.

Harry shrugged. "I thought about it. But I think I've had enough of the limelight to last a lifetime." He relaxed a little.

"Perhaps you should organise a Ministry league, or something like that. I'm sure a few Weasleys would be more than happy to join up." Severus had never played for his house team when he was at school, although only because he'd never tried out. He certainly had enough of a competitive streak.

Harry laughed a little. "That's not a bad idea, actually. Though we'd better be sure to have a healer standing by, what with the age of some of the wizards..."

"True. Though I'd expect your fellow aurors to be handy with a broom. Or one would hope, anyway." Another drink arrived and he considered it. No particular reason not to get completely pissed. He'd just brewed up some hangover potion the other day.

Harry was glad Snape wasn't bolting. "Maybe I'll bring it up at the next staff meeting," he said, watching the older man closely.

Severus nodded. "It would be something to keep them out of trouble, at least. Now that there's no war to fight, some of them are at little at loose ends, I expect," he said a little wistfully.

Harry nodded. He knew the feeling. He didn't know why Snape wouldn't even consider a relationship with him. It hurt. Snape seemed too damaged. He wished there was something he could do.

Severus *was* damaged. He couldn't conceive of participating in anything remotely like a normal relationship. No matter how much, deep down, he wanted it.

In a little while, they parted ways. The mood was a little somber, but there was no more talk of attraction.