"What was that, Headmaster?"

"A poem someone gave me once, Severus."

"Ah.  Any hidden meaning?"

"Yes, and you bloody well know it," Albus growled.

"Punch?" Severus murmured innocently as he handed Dumbledore a fragile crystal cup.

"Don't tempt me," the Headmaster snapped, snatching the cup and downing the punch in one gulp.  "You have no scruples."

"But I do have qualms," Snape managed an ill-advised, weak smile. 

"I distinctly recall forbidding a relationship between you and...."

"I distinctly recall when you forbade it and why.  But Mr. Potter is finally seventeen, and I am no longer in a position of power over him."

"You could have at least let the sun set on his birthday before trying something like this."

"I brought you some tarts," Harry whispered breathlessly, scurrying under the crook of Snape's arm and thrusting a plate full of tiny tidbits into his grip.  He insinuated himself against Snape's side like a second skin, hiding under the wing of Severus's ebony dress cloak.  Harry was purposefully placing his person between Snape and Dumbledore in order to bear the brunt of the Headmaster's wrath, and all three of them understood the gesture perfectly well, as did most of the other people in the room.  A trickle of honey was visible on the right side of Harry's chin.  Severus reached over with one finger and pulled the drop away, wishing for all the world that he had had the nerve to lick it away instead.  Potter realized what the matter was, and blushed even while restraining a small, nervous laugh. 

"You both will be in my office tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp.  Appropriate living arrangements must be made for the rest of this summer, " Dumbledore rumbled.

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed at once.

"Of course, sir," Severus added grimly.

"Until eight o'clock tomorrow morning, you two will not be found anywhere near the worktable in the lab in the dungeon, or any spares crocks of honey for that matter.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry squealed, biting his mouth together and bowing his head. 

"I only hope Mr. Weasley recovers from the shock of what he saw long enough to make an appearance at tonight's festivities," Dumbledore continued. 

Potter stuffed a cherry tart in his mouth and chewed restlessly, daring to meet Severus's burning eyes for a second only.  Images flashed through Harry's mind-- the heavy table; a small cauldron; the scent of warm honey, of essence of rue, and of rose water.  He and Severus had stirred the low-flame love potion together with their fingers before feeding it to each other.  Severus had planned to take the honeyed concoction and spread it around Harry's body, and finally make love to the one shining point of happiness in his life at this dark moment.  They had no idea they were being observed until they started kissing, and Severus began to undress Harry.  Ron screamed out and fainted dead away next to the open door.  Harry's invisibility cloak fluttered away on the floor.  Harry had sat on the worktable, shirt open, fingers and mouth dripping with honey.  Severus stopped kissing Harry long enough to glance over one shoulder and find out who had screamed and what had caused the shocked expression on the young man's face.  Both Snape and Potter stared in surprise at Ron's unconscious form before Potter burst into gales of wicked laughter that even now threatened to make a reappearance.

"Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said.  "It is your celebration.  Learn to be a gracious host.  You have guests to tend, hands to shake, babies to kiss, women to dance with.  I expect you to make decent headway into the demolition of that three-story cake over there as well."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"Please don't forget that you have to be ready to leave the festivities before midnight, because you and Mr. Le Clair have to deliver yourselves promptly to the chosen time and place if you wish the Order of Merlin to be properly bestowed upon yourselves."

"Yes, sir."

"In the meantime, I plan to drag Severus into a dark corner and reprimand him."

"Honestly, sir, if anyone here is going to drag Severus into a dark corner, I'd prefer it was me," Potter replied with a charming smile.

"That's enough of your cheek, Harry," Dumbledore chided in a paternal tone.  "Mingle, before I turn you over one knee."

"Honestly, sir, if anyone here is going to turn Potter over one knee...." Severus interjected, tongue firmly in cheek.  Potter's squeals of mirth lit up their section of the great hall with sound, in spite of all the other loud celebratory noises that filled the immense room.