Snape sat at his desk, eyeing a pile of papers that needed sorting, approving, signing and mailing. This was the easiest part of his job, yet it was at the same time the one he liked the least. Even for someone as secretive and unsocial as he, staying all day locked up in his office with only papers and books to keep him company proved to be surprisingly tiring. In a sudden burst of inspiration, and much against his usual character, he decided to go stroll around the campus to check on his pupils. It never hurt a Headmaster to know just who exactly was the population he ruled over, so to speak.

He had crossed a few corridors and peeked at a few classrooms, but nothing of interest caught his eye. This is what all Headmasters strived for, however Snape couldn't help a strong feeling of disappointment and nostalgia from flooding him. Some years ago, this school had been the center of the events that changed both the wizard and the muggle world, and he had played a pivotal role.

Snape suddenly snapped out of his daydream. In front of him was the one who had played a role more important than his, all those years ago. The one who lived and fulfilled a prophecy.

"Professor Snape!... ah, I mean, we're not really..." he stopped to fake-cough, and tried again. "Mr. Snape, how have you been?"

"Save it Potter, I am not to call you "Mister" either, so I'd like to have "Professor" back" his coldness towards Potter had never thawed out.

"Ah, of course Professor" Harry replied looking rather relieved.

"What brings you here today, if I dare ask." Snape asked, feigning disinterest.

"It seems Albus was in a bit of mischief" Harry said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment "I came here following a request from his teacher"

"It seems insubordination runs in the family" Snape remarked.

Harry just gave an apologetic laugh. "Anyway, I came rather early actually, wanted to take a look at the grounds..." he gestured in the general direction of the campus.

"Then why don't we have tea in my office" Snape heard himself say.

"I'd be delighted!" Harry exclaimed, with a genuine smile on his face, his green eyes shining.

Oh great... what have I done, Snape thought bitterly.

Back in Albus' old office, now Snape's (although the decoration had remained intact, in memory of Hogwart's most loved Headmaster), Snape was pouring two cups of hot Darjeeling.

Harry was looking around, greeting some portraits that were delighted to see him again, commenting on how he had grown into a handsome young man. Snape glanced back at him. He had, indeed, grown into a fine young man. Snape had feared he would grow into James' spitting image, but that had not been the case. The raven black hair was indeed just like James', but Harry's features were softer, more boyish. Even in his thirties, Harry looked like he had in his Hogwart years, with the exception of broader shoulders and a stubble.

Snape realized with a startle that he had been staring at Harry and that the latter stared back in confusion.

"Something the matter Professor?" he asked, not looking at Snape in the eye anymore.

"Just thinking whether you matured enough to take your tea black, Mr Potter" Snape taunted, concentrating again on the teacups.

"Yes, I take it without sugar now" replied Harry "How did you know I used to put a lot of sugar on it?"

Crap.

For a split second, Snape felt he had revealed too much, but he quickly regained control of his thoughts. His comment doesn't mean he knew Harry took it with sugar after all, it could have been just…

"A lucky guess, Potter" he said coldly, and handed Harry his teacup.

"Thank you Professor" Harry took his cup and lift it to his lips, taking a sip of the still too hot liquid and scalding his tongue.

"Agh-!" he cried out in pain, putting his teacup down, miraculously managing not to spill tea all over Snape's desk.

"Oh for goodness' sake Potter! Come here!" Snape took his wand from the inside pocket of his robes with a flourish and walked up to Harry. He grabbed the younger man's jaw and ordered him to open his mouth, then whispered some short spell that made Harry's burn disappear, as if nothing had happened.

"Don't tell me you don't even know the basic spells to treat small burns, Potter!" Snape snarled.

"Well…" Of course he did, he was an Auror after all, but even so, Harry tried to find a good excuse for why he didn't do the spell himself, but the truth is that he hadn't even had time to think, Snape was on him as soon as he the tea touched his tongue.

He was about to say exactly that, when he noticed Snape had been looking him in the eyes again, his hand still holding Harry's jaw.

"Prof-uhmm!" he didn't manage to finish his sentence, as Snape suddenly closed the short distance between the two of them, and smacked his lips on Harry's.

Harry didn't react. He remembers closing his eyes, overwhelmed by what was happening. Snape's lips were dry, but Harry was more concerned with Snape's hand, that had migrated to the back of his head, keeping it in place. Snape kissed slowly but deeply, and when he finally broke the kiss, it seemed to Harry like several hours had elapsed, when in reality it couldn't have been more than 5 seconds.

Harry opened his eyes, but Snape was already at his desk.

"Your son and his teacher are waiting in a classroom in the west wing" he said, not looking up at Harry.

"I… you just… huh, ok." Harry fought to find the right words that needed to be spoken, but reached the conclusion there were no words for what had just happened. He looked back at Snape once again, pleading for an explanation with his eyes, but his former teacher was suddenly absorbed in his papers.

Harry turned around and exited the room, trying to convince himself he had just hallucinated, and that it was probably the tea.