The smoke was thick when you first walked into The Gorgon's Head. So thick that you couldn't see more than a few feet in front of you. It was the type of tavern that didn't ask questions about its patrons or their business; which is why on the last Sunday of each month Harry Potter and Severus Snape met there. They swore to Albus on his deathbed (strange that a hero of two wars would die of old age instead of battle) that they would do so. Harry could still hear Albus' weak and raspy voice rattling inside of his head, "Promise me boys that you will not forget the bond between you two."

Harry sat at their usual booth hidden in the back corner concealed by a notice-me-not charm. Snape was late for the first time in three years. That made Harry feel uneasy as he lit his cigarette with the butt of the one he just finished.

"That's a filthy habit, Potter." The silky voice startled Harry, he hadn't sensed the man walk in.

"Blame Sirius, they're damn addicting."

"I'll blame the mutt for many things including your premature death, something I go at great lengths to prevent."

Their waitress knew them well and delivered two firewhiskeys to the table. Harry picked up the conversation after she left.

"What do I have to live 150 years for anyway? My destiny is fulfilled, not many twenty-three year olds can say that."

"I cannot name anything you would live for, Potter, save for one event."

"And what would that be, Snape?"

"My wedding."

Harry choked a little on his drink, putting his glass down he chuckled, "When will that be? This lifetime or should I wait for the next?"

Snape's posture stiffened and his face became harder, much like the Potions Master of Harry's school years.

"In the spring actually. Clearly I chose my best man poorly because he doesn't even think that someone would want to marry a greasy git like me."

Harry's attitude sobered quickly, "Best man?"

Severus gave a grunt of affirmation as he sipped his drink.

One question was weighing on Harry's mind, "Who is she?"

"Her name is Charlotte Bordeaux, French and English. Attended Beauxbatons. Charms are her forte."

Harry didn't like this Charlotte already, but he didn't know why. Just the idea of Snape being close to someone other than him, of someone being closer than him irked Harry. Harry was supposed to be Snape's closest person, confidant, friend, not this Charlotte.

"Congratulations Severus." whispered Harry as he set down his empty glass, gathered his cloak, and left the tavern.