I was a child, Harry; what could I possibly have done?

The words kept playing in the back of Harry's head for the rest of the day.

—x—

Harry spent the morning doing something as unusual as buying books for himself. He couldn't remember the last time he bought a book for himself that didn't have anything to do with school. Then again, he'd never had proper pocket money either. It was just another part of his and Snape's test to see if they could function as a family. Snape himself was going to meet up with a couple potions researchers. He did this every other day or so, and was always gone for almost the entire day. Harry didn't mind so much, because on the days Snape didn't go away, the two of them always went out to explore together. When Harry was alone he roamed the part of the city that was nearby the hotel, but when he was with Snape they went places Harry had never even heard of.

The café he found after hunger had made itself known was situated in the basement beneath the large public library in the Magical Quarter. The café was original in that it had plants everywhere – thriving plants. There were hibiscuses in full bloom in every colour imaginable, bougainvillea in pinks and yellows, colourful vriesea, sturdy, large dracaena in the corners and looping and climbing cissus along the windows, where orchids hung in baskets. The dark green in the plants only served to bring out the flowers more, and the lighter green of the cissus set it all in contrast. It was a little bit like walking inside a greenhouse.

Harry found himself an out of the way table, where he made himself comfortable. He had only just started to look at the menu when the chair opposite him was pulled out, and someone sat down.

"Um."

"Harry, right?"

Harry blinked. "Yeah. Who're you?"

The bloke grinned. "We met last night. Mike was trying to chat you up."

Frowning, Harry gave the bloke a onceover. Tousled mousy hair, yellow eyes behind square glasses, a quick and easy grin that revealed pointed teeth. "You had purple hair," Harry stated.

"Yup. Boss won't stand for it though. So, what you having, then?"

Harry looked back at the menu. "I don't know."

"The burger and fries with pineapple and cheese is my latest favourite." Harry's stomach growled at the mention of a burger – a proper, thick burger. The waiter laughed. "Sounds like you're starved."

Harry shook his head. "Dad's a veggie. He won't stand for red meat in his house. God, I'd kill for a steak or a burger sometimes. I didn't think it was possible to have cravings until I moved in with him."

"So, a burger then? Rare? Well done? You're human, right?"

"Rather," Harry drawled. "I don't mind if it's a little red, but I'd rather have it well-done than bloody."

"Duly noted, kind sir," the waiter quipped back in a bad, faux British English accent. He paused. "You mind if I take my break with you? I mean, I ain't thrilled about eating alone out back."

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind."

While Harry waited for his food, and his company, he perused the books he had bought. One of them was on how to create your own dreamcatcher. The dreamcatchers that worked best were the ones made by the user. He had also bought books on vampires, werewolves, something called Herbmagic, and a study on the rights the different species Harry's own country classified as 'Dark' and 'dangerous' had in the USA. It was this last book he was reading when the waiter returned with the food.

"Heard something about your country being a bit racist."

"I didn't know we were. Well, not this much, or that America was so different. I know werewolves are basically hated on sight, but…I guess I never realised it was so bad." Harry closed his book, pushed it out of the way and accepted his plate. The waiter put down his plate, took off his apron, then plunked down a small basket with two bottles on the table. "I suppose the one perk you have when you grow up among Muggles is that a lot of the prejudices of the Wizarding world just pass straight over your head."

Harry reached for one of the bottles of pop and placed it in front of his plate, then began looking for cutlery. "No forks?"

"Why'd you need one? Finger food, man."

Harry considered the food from that angle. The burger one could obviously eat with your hands, and the chips were thick. There wasn't any salad, at all. So there really wasn't anything that required a fork, except for Harry's manners. Then again, Snape wasn't here. Not that the man had ever berated him for his table manners – and, in the case of table manners, his relatives certainly weren't here.

Harry grabbed one of the chips, dipped it in some ketchup then bit the top half off. It was steaming hot, but still good.

"Your name is Harry, right? I'm Lukas."

"Yeah."

"Just checking. Mike's made up stranger stuff."

"Was he really trying to chat me up?"

Lukas shrugged. "Who knows? Vampires go after anything that moves when they're on a feeding roll."

"So, they're basically sluts?" Harry asked, tiny smirk on his face.

Lukas grinned. "Oh, don't let them hear you say that, man. They'd be totally offended. Anyway, most of them have a few 'regulars', you know. People who don't mind getting snacked on 'cause it feels so damn good. Or so my sister says," Lukas explained. "I got to know Mike through her. They went to school together."

"So he wasn't that much older, then?"

"Well, my sis is thirty-four, eleven years older than me." Lukas gave Harry a pointed onceover. "And you ain't over twenty, man."

"My dad would kill me," Harry stated. "Or, rather, kill him." Lukas didn't look as if he thought Snape could stand a chance against a vampire. So Harry smiled smugly and explained. "His name is Severus Snape, and he's absolutely brilliant with potions. He's a genius."

Lukas cocked his head to the side. "Wasn't Snape the guy who was apprenticed to that Belby when he made that Wolfsbane potion? People were all wondering if Belby had really invented it or not, 'cause he'd never been into potions like that before. And everyone was already talking about what a whiz Snape was, 'cause he'd created that anti-bloodlust potion the year before, as proof that he was good enough with potions to be accepted in the mastery program."

Harry blinked, then he grinned. "He's so brilliant. I know he can brew the Wolfsbane potion. But he's good with spells, too. Just look at my hair."

"I thought it was cute."

Harry glared.

"What? It is. I'm gonna try it next time we go clubbing. See how many girls I get."

"I have pigtails because Dad is a vindictive bastard when you tease him and forget to cover yourself properly," Harry muttered. "Not to get girls."

"Hey, I know! You should come with us. We usually hang at that place next to your hotel. The girls would totally dig your accent."

All the talk of girls was making Harry a bit uncomfortable, but not enough for Harry to contradict it. He shook his head. "Can't. I'm sixteen."

"Wednesdays is booze free."

"Dad has pictures. Incriminating pictures. I'm not going near that place." Harry took a bite of his burger. "It had something to do with new blood on the streets," he drawled.

Lukas snorted. "Yeah, I can see why he'd be worried about that. Mike was all but drooling over you yesterday. Kept complaining about how bland everything tasted." He shrugged. "Vampires, man. What can you do?"

"Stay far away?"

"He knows where you live."

"So, what? He'll come sneaking in through the window?"

Lukas winked. "You should be so lucky. Most of the time they have this tactic. They call it 'spike the drinks, seduce, bite, move on'. Sometimes, if you're really 'lucky', they'll even fuck you. Personally, I made a point of staying away. There were a couple of Veela in my year, and, damn they were hot. I mean, even the male Veela got my blood pumping, and I don't even swing that way. You know what I'm saying?"

Harry swallowed. "There are…male Veela?" he whispered. Fleur was beautiful – even he couldn't deny having been a little attracted to her. And she'd been a woman. But a bloke who was a Veela… "That's got to be bloody hot," he concluded at last, out loud.

"Not really my kind of thing."

Harry shrugged. "I guess. I've only met a half-Veela, though. And she's really hot. So, yeah, I guess I can see what you're talking about."

"But anyway, sometimes we hang there during the day. It's just a café then, you know."

Harry shrugged. "I guess. I dunno," he said, toying with his chips.

"Naw, Daddy's little boy, are we?" Lukas taunted. Affronted, Harry looked up and glared, only to receive a cheeky wink. "No, seriously, man. Just ask. I promise, it'll be fun. Maybe snag some sweet romance with the ladies, hmm? Exciting adventure to brag about when you get back home?"

"I don't kiss and tell," Harry drawled.

In his mind, he was already turning different proposals around, trying to figure out the best, and safest, way to ask Snape for permission. It annoyed him a bit that he suddenly had to ask for permission to go do something he wanted. He was sixteen, after all. He knew how to look after himself, when to say no, and how to be careful.

It wasn't like he'd been doing it all his life, now was it?

—x—

"My, my, what have we here," a sly voice drawled in Harry's ear. Harry shivered.

Harry had only just entered the hotel. He was a in the hallway that led to the lifts, when he felt someone sneak up behind him. Harry never heard anything, until the words were whispered. No steps, couldn't feel breath against his ear. Nothing.

"Michael? What are you doing?" Harry asked, turning around.

Michael grinned. "It was so boring last night, after Luke and I got out."

"Okay?" Harry felt rather uncomfortable. Lukas had said something about Michael not giving up on getting a taste of Harry, hadn't he? Harry just hadn't thought Lukas had been all that serious at the time. It didn't sit well with Harry. He was a private person – he wasn't really sure he wanted a vampire snacking on him, much less try and, um, fuck him.

"Mmhmm, you wouldn't believe how tasteless everything is once you have your mind set on something a bit more…spicy."

"Oh," Harry said, feigning innocence, "you mean like when you mix up apples and potatoes? Happens to me all the time—"

"Cheeky." Michael grinned again. "How about I buy you dinner. See if I can convince you to partake in something a bit more…pleasurable."

Harry cleared his throat, doing his best to ignore the hot spike of interest that rushed through him. Michael wasn't bad looking, far from it, and the offer of a night out was tempting. Right up 'till the point where Michael wanted to put his fangs in him. That part wasn't attractive in the slightest.

"Some other time, maybe."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, Harry guessed, but something else interrupted them before Michael had a chance to say anything.

"Harry?"

Harry swallowed, then darted a quick look down the hall where Snape was striding towards him, a rather relaxed, if amused, expression on his face.

Michael looked over his shoulder, frowning a little. "That's, um." Harry cleared his throat. "That's my dad."

"Snape, the potions master?"

"Yeah."

Only, Snape wasn't really his dad and Harry had sort of forgotten to mention the bit about how he had, almost, been chatted up by a vampire last night.

"Well, then." Michael flashed Harry a pointy grin, then he leaned forwards, quick as lightning, and nipped Harry's earlobe, whispering, "later, Harry," in the process, before simply vanishing.

Harry froze on the spot. He flinched when Snape, seconds later, grabbed him by the shoulders. "Where did he go?" he yelped. "You can't apparate—"

"Vampires use shadows to transport themselves," Snape said, putting heavy emphasis on that word. "We are going to our room, and you, Mr Potter, are going to talk." Snape was at his most menacing worst. "It is not negotiable."

They walked in silence, Harry feeling Snape's heavy hand on his shoulder the entire time. It wasn't restricting, or clamping down on him, but it was there. Its presence was enough for Harry to fidget. Once back in their room, Harry was directed over to sit on the sofa. Snape, on the other hand, hitched up his trousers a bit and sat down opposite him, on the table.

Their eyes were on the same level. Harry found it uncanny.

"Talk."

Harry swallowed. "I met him last night, when I couldn't sleep. He sat down next to me at the bar. I didn't think it was a big deal, you know? I didn't really know for sure he was a vampire until he came out and said it. He didn't feel like that one outside did. And he was drinking bourbon, but then I mentioned you, and he said you'd invented this potion that helped vampires deal with bloodlust." Harry tried to speak clearly, but every so often he realised he was mumbling, and would raise his voice. Harry told Snape about Lukas, too, and the lunch they'd had only a couple of hours ago.

"—I didn't really think he was serious when he said that Michael wouldn't let up on me until he'd, you know. I just… I didn't think Michael would really come looking for me, or anything. Honestly. We were just talking."

Snape's expression remained unmoved. The man leaned forward a bit, then tilted Harry's head to the side. With his thumb Snape brushed over the earlobe that Michael had nipped at. A tingle shot down Harry's spine. "And yet, he bit you."

"He didn't—!" Harry protested.

"No?" Snape pressed down lightly with his thumb. Another tingle shot down Harry's spine, this time accompanied by a small, sharp burst of pain. "I do believe he sampled you."

"Lukas wanted me to come with them the next time they went out," Harry said, thereby changing the subject. He really didn't want to talk to Snape about something that he couldn't even define in his mind yet.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "No."

Harry stiffened and narrowed his eyes. "They don't serve alcohol on Wednesdays. The way I understood it, the place is a café for twenty-four hours once a week."

"So therefore there are suddenly no vampires?" Snape wondered.

"You don't like vampires?" Harry asked. "Because it sounded like you liked them when you warned me against them."

"I don't like vampires in close proximity to you," Snape corrected. "Vampires as a species…" He lifted a shoulder. "I'm not sure I care one way or the other. They are not better or worse than humans."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, I can take care of myself. I'm sixteen. Next year, I'll be an adult. And, anyway, Lukas isn't a vampire. His ulterior motive is using me to get girls. I think I can live with that," Harry drawled.

Tilting his head back, Snape regarded Harry with a long, guarded look. "If you want me as your father you will have to learn that my word and will is heavier than yours. If I say no, then no is exactly what I mean. If there is something I don't want you to do, then I will not permit you to do it. While you may question me, and argue with me, it won't make me change my mind."

"I'm not a kid!" Harry exploded. "I've been deciding for myself since I was little! And, anyway, if I go with Lukas during the day, then there won't be any alcohol or vampires or whatever—!"

"You are sixteen, Harry!" Snape snapped. "How old do you think Michael is? Or Lukas, for that matter? Do I really need to mention Charlie Weasley?"

"Lukas is around Charlie's age, but he's straight. Just 'cause I'm gay doesn't mean I want every bloke I see, you know! I like him because he's funny, and if we stayed here longer, I think we'd become great friends."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And Michael?"

Harry fumed. "Thirty-four," he muttered.

"I'm thirty-six, Harry." Snape gave the boy a dark look. "Do you see why I don't want you to go?"

Harry's lips were pursed, his cheeks red with anger and stubbornness. And he remained absolutely silent.

"You are even more obstinate than your mother," Snape finally snapped. "Do I need to forbid you?"

At once, Harry's head snapped up. "No!" he shouted. "Fine! I won't bloody go, but you can't fucking stop me from going to see Lukas when he works, or—Mmphmmf!"

Snape glared, his dark eyes glittering. He was holding his hand over Harry's mouth. "You have the foulest mouth, boy. Your incessant cussing is uncivilised and uncouth. This is your first and only warning. One more vulgar word out of that mouth of yours, and I will wash it out with soap."

"You can't do that!" Harry immediately protested the second Snape removed his hand.

"I think you will find that I can, without hesitation" Snape assured, his countenance dark. "Now, as to your other little friend. You are perfectly correct that I cannot stop you from visiting him. But I can put restrictions on you. If you behave yourself and obey, there will not be a problem."

Harry spent over an hour that night attacking his journal. What had been so restricting with his first one had been the lines on the pages. This one had no lines, and in Harry's mind that offered freedom. He wrote, mixing small and big letters, upper case and lower case, and if there was any logic to his ramblings, it was only apparent to Harry himself. There were sketches crammed in between bits of text, crude drawings and messy doodles.

—x—

The next day, before breakfast, Snape finally relented and removed the spell from Harry's hair. They spent the rest of the day visiting the local art galleries and museums.

It wasn't until another two days later that Harry ran into Lukas again.

—x—

It wasn't raining like it had done for three days in a row. Harry took the rare opportunity the sun offered and sat down on a bench outside. He had a book, a sliced apple in a box – all the weeks of Snape providing him with snacks in the form of sliced up fruit had reminded him of how all the kids in primary school except him had always had fruit in bite-size portions with them – and most of the morning to himself.

It was the politics book. The first few chapters dealt with werewolves. Harry was shocked – in a good way – to learn that many of the wizards and witches that had first travelled to America had been werewolves. After all, if you're not welcome somewhere, why stay when a whole new country is being created? So the werewolves had gone, and they had been influential in the creation of Wizarding America. From early on, there had been provisions in place to make sure werewolves didn't infect humans by accident. Since the invention of the Wolfsbane potion, the Ministry of Magic in cooperation with the major hospitals had made sure that all those who were in need of the potion would have access to it.

If taking the Wolfsbane potion was made mandatory in the UK, would people stop being afraid? Harry doubted it, but it would be start.

"Hey, Harry." The bench jostled a little as Lukas sat down. "How you doing?"

Harry started a little, haven't heard Lukas approach. "Fine. You?" He tucked away his book in his bag, then packed away the empty container where the apple slices had been as well.

"Oh, never better. Have the day off."

"Michael bit my ear," Harry blurted.

Lukas blinked. "Told you he was gonna come after you."

Harry grimaced. "I know. I didn't think he would literally come after me, you know? I thought you were exaggerating."

"With vampires, there's no such thing. You okay?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not keen on being eaten on. I don't care how hot he is, I just don't like it."

Lukas was quiet for a moment. "Did you just say you think Mike is hot, man?"

Blinking, Harry thought back. "I think I did, mate."

"That's, like, totally gay."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. A rampant homosexual, that's me," he muttered.

Lukas twisted a little so as to have a better look of Harry. "You serious?"

Running a hand through his liberated, wild as ever hair, Harry sighed. "Yes. Sorry. I usually don't just blurt it out like that. I know it makes people uncomfortable, I just—"

"Hey, chill!" Lukas exclaimed. "I went to school with loads of vampires and Veela and people like that. They aren't exactly known for being frigid, if you know what I mean?" Lukas waggled his eyebrows, making Harry laugh. "I heard tales of orgies and fuck fests. Shit, man, this one time, I walked in on one of the Veela banging my best pal – who'd always proclaimed himself to be the straightest man to ever walk the planet. Oh, I teased him for weeks about that." Lukas grinned. "So, sorry, man, but you're gonna have to try harder than that to make me uncomfortable. Just saying."

"Banging? As in—"

"And I ain't gonna keep you supplied with filthy gay porn, all right?" Lukas laughed, shaking his head. "I know this store if you want stuff like that. Mags, lubes, condoms, the kit."

Harry's eyes were probably a bit wider than usual. But everything Lukas had just told him… Well, it was a lot to think about, certainly. And still, despite all that, Harry couldn't help but be curious. "What kind of shop?"

"Sex toys and stuff," Lukas said, as if it wasn't a big deal. Harry's eyes widened a bit more. "Want me to take you, don't you?"

"Fuck, yes," Harry said. "I didn't know shops like that existed, or—"

"Now, see, that's 'cause all you English dudes are way too big prudes."

They set off, Harry trusting Lukas to know the way. There was a small scuffle of sorts, when they first tried to go inside the shop. Harry was sixteen, and he didn't look like he was a day older, either. But Lukas was over eighteen, and he was good at convincing people to look the other way. Besides, it was a magical shop. Magic judged persons based on their intentions. That, and the shop was divided in two. The first part held books, the section in the back behind the curtained doorway held the actual toys and naughty bits. So long as they remained in the bookshop part, there wouldn't be a problem.

Harry certainly had no problem staying with the books. His ears were bright red, of course, but his shaggy hair hid them from view.

"Ah, I remember when Wendelina the Wicked was Seeker for the Smashing Hornets," Lukas said, perusing a calendar. Harry gathered that it was an American Quidditch team, and sidled closer to see what Lukas was looking at. "Sam the Snidget just isn't the same, aye?" Lukas teased as he held up the December spread.

Sam was a blonde, freckled, muscled Seeker. He was slim, sweaty and half naked. Harry had never known a swarm of Snitches and Snidgets could be used quite like that. Sam stood leaning casually against a tree and, every now and then, he would glance at you, then run his hands down his stomach and wink.

"Wow."

Lukas sniggered. "This is the Men's Edition. There's one with bosoms, too."

"I'll never get tits," Harry said. Turning the calendar over, there was a small picture of each month, giving the buyer a taste of what the calendar contained. September had a dark skinned man and a gleaming, dark green snake.

"I'll never get what so good about having a cock up your ass," Lukas countered.

Harry sputtered. Then he said, "Yeah, me, too."

Lukas gave him a weird look. "Seriously?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I get that I'm only sixteen and that I might want to try it in the future, but right now…? No, thanks." Harry carefully folded the calendar closed and was about to place it back on the rack when Lukas grabbed it. "What—?"

"Think of it as a Christmas gift."

Harry went red, even as he grinned. "You kinky bastard."

Lukas returned the grin. "I try."

Rolling his eyes, Harry butted Lukas with his shoulder. "Thanks. You want the—?"

"Yeah. Every bachelor needs one," Lukas declared as he reached for the calendar with the scantily dressed ladies and handed it to Harry. "You getting those books, too? No porn mags?"

"No porn," Harry agreed. "These books are illustrated."

A few of them were plain and simple erotica, but Harry had picked history books as well as one or two 'illustrated guides', and a book on facts about gay sex.

There was no way in hell, after all, that he was ever going to ask Snape, or anyone else, for that matter, about sex.

As Harry went back to the shelf with erotica, he spied the shop attendant walking around the corner to see what he and Lukas were doing. Being satisfied that they were still on the 'right' side of the shop, she went back to the till. Harry was just looking over a set of books that seemed rather good, in an adventure series, when Lukas sneaked up behind him.

"You know," Lukas whispered in his ear, "I could go to the dark side and snag a dildo or two for you."

Harry went beet red. "I don't… I. Oh, fuck."

"No, seriously," Lukas said, for once not sounding like he was either teasing or poking fun at Harry.

"I don't like the idea of…having anything up. You know. There," Harry whispered. "Thanks, but…"

"Some lube, then?"

Harry smiled. "Why not?"

While Lukas went into the back of the shop, Harry continued browsing the books. The set of adventure novels was tempting enough that Harry grabbed all seven of them. Deciding he was done, it was with a considerable stack of books that he hefted over to the cash desk. The sound when he put his stack down was rather loud.

The woman behind the desk blinked, took a closer look at the books, then pouted. "Don't tell me the guy you came in with is your boyfriend?"

Harry shook his head. "No, most definitely not. I hear he is rather straight."

The woman's eyes went a bit wide. "And you're English, too! So unfair." She rang up his books, quirked an eyebrow at the calendar, and packed it all into a back with a featherlight charm on it. Harry had only just paid for his books when Lukas game back, three round glass bottles in his hands, a small box of something tucked up under his arm.

Once outside, Lukas and Harry made a swift exchange of the calendars, and Lukas tucked his small bag inside Harry's, shrinking the calendar and pocketing it.

"Lunch?"

"Ravished," Harry agreed.

Lukas grinned. "She gave me her number. Me thinks I have a date."

"Yeah, she was ever so displeased that I wasn't available, but I guess she felt it was okay to settle for you."

They met up with a few of Lukas' friends for lunch. Despite only knowing Lukas, Harry ended up having a rather good time.

The problem with touring a city with someone who lived in said city was that you trusted that person to know where you were. Lukas had to go home after lunch, which was fine with Harry. It wasn't until after he had left that Harry realised he didn't have the slightest clue as to where he was. One of Lukas' friends, Steve, a younger cousin Harry thought Lukas had said, took pity on him and offered to walk him home.

Tall and dark, with black hair and golden eyes, Harry pinned him down as a werewolf as well. That, and his teeth looked sharp in the same way Lukas' did. His skin was much darker than Zabini's, and what had look good on Zabini, looked hot on Steve.

Mostly, Harry reckoned, because Steve was all muscle and controlled strength.

Giving the rest of the friends a wave, Harry waited for Steve to say his goodbyes as well before walking out of the café.

Harry wasn't quite prepared for the catcalls when he and Steve finally walked away.

Steve gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry 'bout that."

"About what?"

"The catcalls?" Steve suggested, a hint of a smile round his eyes. "Ever since I came out, I swear, they do all they can to rub my face in it the second I go off with a guy."

Harry laughed. "So it's not that Lukas told them that I'm gay, then?"

Steve's grin was decidedly feral, but also very friendly and happily surprised. "Really? You're gay, gorgeous, and English? This must be my lucky day."

Harry shrugged. He'd never really considered himself anything special, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed being told he was looking good. "I wouldn't worry about your friends. Dad does the same to me, so, you know." With a laugh, he told Steve about the T-shirts Snape had arranged for 'Santa' to bring to them. It wasn't long before Steve joined in as well.

Harry couldn't pinpoint the exact moment Steve put his arm around Harry's shoulder, but he did know it was there when they finally reached Harry's hotel.

It was probably what prompted Harry to ask Steve to come up to the room Harry shared with Snape.

"Your old man in?" Steve wondered as they stood in the lift.

"Dunno. He had some meeting with a potions master or two. Sometimes he's gone all day and half the night, other times he's back in time for lunch."

As a precaution, when they reached the door, Harry knocked before unlocking it. It was dark inside, no sign of Snape anywhere, or a sign that he had come back but gone out for lunch. Harry turned on the lights, put his bags down by the bed, then invited Steve to sit down on the sofa while Harry got them something to drink.

"Is coke okay?"

"It's fine," Steve said, accepting his bottle with a smile. Harry dithered a little about where to sit, before giving himself a mental shake and sitting down next to Steve.

Harry took a swig of the coke.

Steve looked at him, put his bottle on the table, then grabbed Harry's and put that away, too.

"Steve?"

Steve smiled. "You've been staring."

Harry grinned. "Well, you're fit. How can I not?"

Holding up a arm, Steve flexed the muscles, showing off his bulging biceps. Harry laughed. "See? How could I not stare?" Outside, Steve had worn a jacket, but now that they were inside he had taken it off. The black T-shirt he had been wearing underneath was skin-tight, clinging to Steve's body. "You're like a statue."

"You have the greenest eyes."

Harry shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious about that. "Are you a werewolf?" he wondered.

"Yeah," Steve said. "That a problem?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I thought you were, but I wasn't sure. You have sharp teeth, like Lukas."

"That I do." Steve reached out and placed a heavy hand on Harry's thigh, squeezing lightly.

After a slight moment of hesitation, Harry smiled. Then he reached down and placed his own hand over Steve's, mostly to make sure Steve didn't try anything Harry didn't want him to do. "How old are you?" Harry wondered casually.

Steve glanced sharply at him. "Eighteen. You?"

"Sixteen."

Steve smiled. "Goody."

"Yeah? How's that?"

Steve didn't answer verbally. What he did do was reach out and pluck Harry's glasses from his face. Then he framed Harry's face, long fingers tangling in Harry's hair, and pulled him in for a kiss. Harry hesitated for less than a second before he slid his hands up Steve's muscled chest, feeling the pectorals flex underneath his hands, then snaked one arm around Steve's neck and tugged him closer.

They were still snogging on the sofa, Steve stretched out over Harry, when Snape came back.

"As delightful I am sure that is, I would be most appreciative if you would refrain from molesting each other on my sofa." Snape's cool drawl sent a bucket of icy water over Harry and his eyes shot open.

"Shit!" he hissed, his horror of being caught necking another bloke in front of Snape was mirrored on Steve's face. They fumbled frantically until they were finally sitting up, a whole cushion of free space between them on the sofa. Harry smoothed down his shirt. It was short-sleeved, with buttons running down the front that had been halfway undone by Steve and was now hurriedly being re-done by Harry's less than steady hands.

"Excellent," Snape said, the bloody smirk of his firmly in place. "Harry, your belt."

Harry went even redder, cursing Snape under his breath as he buckled his belt.

Steve looked more composed, but his skin was so dark Harry doubted it would show when he blushed. If he blushed. Still, at Snape's comment about the state of Harry's belt, Harry could spy Steve's hands closing the top button of his jeans.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to introduce us." Snape was still smirking, that glint in his eye that told Harry he was finding the whole situation hilarious.

So Harry, forgetting for a moment his embarrassment about being caught and apprehension about who, exactly, he had let everyone think Snap was to him, said, the glint in his eye matching Snape's, "Dad, this is Steve, Lukas' cousin. Steve, this is my Dad, Severus Snape."