Barbarism to Decadence.

Severus was nearly growling when he reached the door to Price's quarters, something within him unpleasantly tumbling over and over as it had been since he'd passed the familiar curly-headed Gryffindor on his way up. She had been crying, and he was trying desperately to keep from thinking of the many reasons that a student might be fleeing from a professor's suite so late at night in tears. The insufferable arsehole had a lot of explaining to do.

He stopped when he saw the door was open, his anger swiftly, and dizzyingly, turning to alarm as he rushed forward and through the portal, his wand suddenly in hand and at the ready. His eyes darted around, but nothing seemed out of place, other than the slow reaction of the Yank to his intrusion. His emotions were going on a fast-wearying rollercoaster ride, and it all seemed to be the fault of the irreverent young wizard.

"Price, what..." He stopped abruptly, his teeth clicking as he cut off the question when he finally looked at the handsome American and recognized the effects of Veritaserum. Why had he taken the potion? His eyes moved to the table and he caught sight of the glass of wine, mind instantly winging to the worst possible conclusion. Had Granger slipped it into his drink? Well, if so she hadn't learned anything pleasing, considering she'd been weeping when she'd run past him.

His gaze returned to the endlessly appealing young wizard and he arched a brow, debating with himself before letting his Slytherin flaccidity of morals over-ride his more noble, and less apparent, side. "What was Miss Granger doing in your room?"

He scowled at the familiar, and yet highly unappealing, lack of life in the rakishly beautiful face, disliking it there more than he had on any other face. The young man was bursting with fire and life, to see him thus was like catching Dumbledore in a moment of idiocy. He hated even more the flat tone of Price's voice as he answered. "She somehow got the idea that Soul's Face was merely a glamour, an illusion to fool her, but I set her to rights."

He had a good idea why the young man had taken the Veritaserum, at least, his irritatingly open nature would have forced him to offer to allay the teenage witch's fears. Snape cursed and moved to close the door, frowning as he sat on the annoyingly comfortable chair, perching at the edge to avoid melting into it. "Why did you take the potion, you fool!?"

Price shrugged mildly and sighed, tilting his head and peering at Snape without the slightest reaction to the wizard's anger or name-calling. "Because, she would have always had doubts otherwise. Her soul was quite lovely, and seeing it did her good, but if she doubted the veracity of its design, all the good it had done would have been lost."

Just as he'd suspected. He had no doubt the man was in Gryffindor when he'd been at Hogwarts before his chosen exile to America and the Muggle world. Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wondering how long he had to wait before the effects wore off. There were a great many questions he longed to ask, but he didn't feel right asking them while the man was under the influence of Veritaserum. Truth be told, he doubted the man needed the potion to be completely honest, but he didn't plan to ask his questions after it wore off, either. He'd be placing himself out on a very old, and unstable, limb and he didn't savor the thought of the fall.

"How long ago did you take the Veritaserum?" The only other question he'd allow himself at this juncture, or any juncture, despite the ache to interrogate the man as if he were a criminal.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago." Came the pale reply, making him twitch once more. No, he wouldn't ask any questions in the next fifteen minutes, even if only because hearing Price talk that way sent icy shivers down his spine. This wizard was meant for purring, laughing and feeling, hearing his voice so plain was utterly spooky.

------

Vance blinked slowly, feeling the reins over his emotions and inhibitions loosen, his heart giving an instant flutter as he recalled what he'd revealed to Hermione. Sweet Merlin, if she ever told... His eyes were snatched to the chair and he twitched at the sight of Severus, unable to stifle the gasp before it sprang free. Gods, the man could be so quiet and those eyes! He quelled the urge to shiver and rose to his feet, pacing around behind his couch and stalking back and forth between his front door and the portal to his bedroom.

"Thank you." He murmured as he strode back and forth, one hand rising to comb through his hair, tightening to lightly tug the strands, his eyes on the floor before his feet. He missed the look of shock that flashed briefly across Snape's face, and it was gone a moment before he looked up. "What are you thanking me for, exactly, Mr. Price?"

That low, heavenly silky voice made him want to fling himself at the wizard's feet and beg him to like him just a little, but he held off, answering instead. "I'm thanking you for not asking me more than you did. I understand why you questioned me about Hermione Granger, but you could have taken advantage. You didn't, and I appreciate it."

Snape blinked slowly, as if his own reticence surprised him, then he nodded firmly. "I considered it, but I get the feeling your noble spirit wouldn't allow you to lie to me, even were you not under the potion's effect. Frankly, I care very little about you, and doubt you have skeletons that would interest me." A jolt of physical pain slammed through his chest at the older wizard's words and he stumbled, fetching up against the back of his couch with a soft cry.

------

Fear set off within Snape like a horde of hungry bats, and he leapt to his feet, moving over to lift Price and guide him around to stretch out on the couch. He was glad the man's eyes were closed, for he was positive his concern was painted all over his face, and he didn't like revealing such weaknesses to people who could use them against him. He straightened and moved through the Yank's bedroom to his bathroom, casting a single, longing glance to the large, solid-looking bed.

He tried to ignore that intoxicating scent of leather and honeysuckle as he filled the water glass and returned with it to hold out to Price. "Here. I imagine you are aware that Veritaserum can, at times, cause physical distress when it completely leaves one's system." He watched Price gulp the water, unable to keep his gaze from tracking an errant drop from the corner of his deliciously lush mouth down his throat.

"Thank you, again, Severus. May I ask what brought you to my rooms?" Price finally set the glass aside and settled back, panting softly. The older wizard forced his gaze off the tempting drop and pulled the completed exam from his pocket, holding it out. "Yes. I've come to request that you allow a member of my house into your special course. I know you only wanted..."

He was cut off when Price took the test and waved a hand imperiously, looking over the answers before glancing up at him. "Of course. One more student won't over-tax me, and I was rather distressed at the lack of Slytherin students that signed up for the course. I realize you might not understand it, but I was rather hoping to get a great many of them."

Snape smirked and moved away, retaking his seat. "Oh, I understand perfectly. The Slytherin's disdain for Muggle and Muggleborn is hardly a secret, and you were hoping to change some of their bigotry with your charm and literature. I'm not unaware of your revolutionary desires, Mr. Price. How many ended up in the course?"

Price cast him an amused look and shook his head, eyes returning to the exam, a smile touching the young wizard's lips, sending a thrill of pleasure through Snape's heart. So, he likes what he sees. "I would hardly call them revolutionary, Severus. I think if wizardingkind had tried long ago to better understand Muggles, we might not be caught in the war we are right now. Once Voldemort is destroyed, I'd like to have measures in place to prevent another like him from rising ten, twenty or thirty years from now. As a matter of fact, only one other in your house is in the course. Most of the few that signed up left when I revealed the parchments were charmed against lies."

He chuckled and set the exam on the coffee table, looking up to Severus and nearly stealing his breath with the force of his smiling, twinkly-eyed beauty. "Who is it?" Severus coached his voice into its usual cool, sneering tones and tried to quiet the sudden pounding in his breast. Heavens, the man was stunning!

"Draco Malfoy." He grinned at the shocked look that Severus was unable to prevent from rising to his face, and laughed. "Yes, I was as surprised as you, Severus. Granted, his exam was what I expected, which makes me wonder why he would desire to take the course in the first place. Unfortunately, he followed the same tactic as your young, Mr. Verdey and didn't answer the last question. Of course, neither did Miss Granger and half of the other students that ended up being selected. I didn't expect much else, honestly."

Snape frowned at this new information, puzzled by his godson's determination to be in a class about understanding Muggles. Could it be that he was growing weary of the war and turning an about-face to the ideals upheld by his family for centuries? Or, was he on some mysterious mission of his own making? He would have to have a talk with him and try to discover the truth. He was abruptly jerked from his thoughts when a piece of parchment and a book was placed in his lap, looking up at Price.

"I trust you will deliver these to Mr. Verdey?" He nodded, trying to read Price's face, but met only with a smile and sparkling eyes, which unnerved him as much as they had just a few minutes before. He picked up the items and stood, gasping when he felt strong arms encircle his waist, freezing all of his motor-functions. Price squeezed him for a moment as if he were clinging to the last life raft in a sea tossed by a raging tempest.

"Why won't you call me Vance, Severus? You call Dumbledore, Albus and McGonagall, Minerva. Do you honestly hate me so much that you can't even bring yourself to call me by my first name?" The soft voice rising from the mouth pressed to his chest, where the handsome wizard had tucked his face during the unexpected hug, sounded forlorn and ever so young. It squeezed his heart in a warm hand and his free hand lifted toward the soft brown locks, but suddenly Price...no, Vance, had turned and rushed into his bedroom, slamming the door after him.

Snape stared after him, his mind in a tumult and his heart wrenching with the desire to follow him and spill forth his burgeoning affection. He squashed the desire and merely let himself from the room quietly, turning to make his way back to his suite in the catacombs. He couldn't let a moment of seemingly truthful neediness break down his barriers, he knew too well how swiftly that neediness could be turned to scorn when he showed his true feelings.