A Modest Proposal

"Harry Potter's thoughts curled contentedly around Severus Snape's like a snake would curl around a warm rock.

"Good heavens, Potter," Snape drawled as he bent over his cauldron without looking up, "you are getting comfortable in my mind, aren't you?"

"Reckon so," Harry said as he bent over his Potions text, revising for the coming N.E.W.T., while simultaneously running light mental fingers over the familiar surfaces of Snape's mind.

Snape did not sound angry. Not that he had any right to, since in the past year or so they'd developed the habit of nosing around each others' psyches like curious dogs whenever it suited them.

"Why," Snape continued, still not looking up, "we spend enough time in each pockets -- to say nothing of each others' heads -- that someone might mistake us for a married couple." '