Situational Ethics

By Mizzfreestyle

Edited by Laurie-an

Chapter Twelve:

“The Band of Illusion”

The first month swept by like a chaser over the pitch, the days and weeks melding together; a month of neither looking back nor pausing, charging only onwards. During that time Harry intentionally avoided everyone, needing time alone to rest, throw up, rest some more and eventually study… after throwing up. No one knew where he went to hide and Hermione and Ron were increasingly worried about him. They tried the room of requirement, the shrieking shack, the owlery, the library, the quidditch pitch, and the locker room each and every time Harry would disappear, but his whereabouts remained a mystery.

“I’m getting worried,” Hermione exclaimed one night, as she stared at the fire in the common room. “What if he’s doing something dangerous and not telling us?”

“I don’t know, Hermione. I honestly have no idea what he’s up to,” said Ginny. She paced back and forth, imitating Hermione. It was all they could do, for searching for him never did any good.

When Harry finally walked into the common room an hour later, Hermione threw her arms around his chest before scolding him. “Where have you been?! Why are you hiding from us?!”

“Yeah, Harry!” Ginny was right behind Hermione, crossing her arms and tapping her little foot. “It’s okay the first few times, but an entire month? Harry, what’s wrong?”

Feeling cornered, and tired from studying in the cold air of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry shrugged out of Hermione’s arms and scuttled towards the boys’ dorms, mumbling.

“Harry! Please! I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.”

Harry stopped and faced his long-time friend again, one hand reached to massage a temple and he said softly, “I have a massive headache and you’re not helping. If I tell you what I’m up to, you will never leave me alone. So please, be patient and let me do what I need to do.”

Ginny stared at Harry before hurrying over and touching Hermione’s shoulder. She shook her head and the other girl nodded. Harry turned back to the stairs to his dorm, to do some more reading. He was becoming worried about the next few months, about how he was going to hide his pregnancy when his stomach reached the size of a boulder. The book he had bought at Christmas recommended the Band of Illusion, which, when put around the stomach, would place a glamour on his body to hide its swelling. More importantly, the band was also charmed to protect the baby in ‘most situations’. He was glad to read that he would still be able to feel the weight of the baby; he would still feel it move and would still be able to feel the growing roundness. Now the problem was finding a way to get one. With no opportunity to go out to buy one, he decided to write to the company and hope they catered for mail order. Of course, receiving a package in front of his friends at breakfast would increase their curiosity but he couldn’t think of any other option and so decided to take the risk. “Anything for you,” whispered Harry, touching his flat stomach gently.

HARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTER

“And where are you going now?” asked Hermione the following morning, trying to keep up with Harry as he sped down the halls.

“To do some stuff, but I’ll see you later.”

“That’s what you always say, but Ron and I don’t see you until dinner – sometimes not until curfew time.”

Harry brushed her off and rounded the corner, heading for the main stairs. “I have things to do.” And, as soon as he got outside, he hopped onto his broom and took off into the sky.

Once Harry was out of sight, Hermione pursed her lips and turned around. Snape was striding across the entrance hall, a pile of parchments in his arms and black eyes glittering as they rested on the young Gryffindor. He took in her posture and the hands at her side, which were nervously twisting the fabric of her robes.

“Ms. Granger, you look distressed.” And that makes me happy on the inside, he thought to himself.

Hermione gave a jerky nod and Snape was ready to resume his journey when he saw the girl take a deep breath and set her shoulders. Mmm, brave, Ms Granger?

She took another deep breath and rushed out, “Harry’s acting strange. He’s taking off and Ron and I can never find him.”

So it was about Harry? Oh, then this certainly concerned Snape as well. “It does not surprise me that in your egoism you do not consider that your and Mr. Weasley’s company, your continual presence, might be cloying.”

“But we don’t… aren’t, I mean! We give him his space.”

“Hmm, the fact that he is actively avoiding you would suggest otherwise. Would you not agree?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “There’s something wrong with Harry and he’s not telling us what. He’s been like this for a while; since before the break.”

“Hmm, I am only surprised that he has endured this long with his suffocation. No doubt his ever sanguine nature will once again embrace you both as his bosom buddies,” he sneered.

Snape turned and left, though he himself was slightly concerned about Potter. The boy was known for getting into difficult situations that arose only if one actively went looking for them. First Voldemort, then the basilisk, Sirius Black came looking for him, but then there was Umbridge and of course many other things he was sure he was unaware of. What new troubles Harry was trying to get himself into flickered a disturbance in him. He would have to find out and try to help him, his conscience and promise to Dumbledore both recognized that duty. Perhaps, he mused, he could drop a hint in his wife’s ear and hope that she would talk to him.

Two hours later, Harry answered a summons and found himself in the dungeon sitting and having tea with Caitlin.

“It has been a long time since we last had a talk,” Caitlin gushed as she brought Harry some tea. “Care for some Earl Grey, it was freshly brewed just before you came?”

“Thank you.” Harry had a sip and relished in the tea’s aromatic flavour. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. This is what he needed; it soothed him like nothing else. The warmth of the liquid gliding down his throat and its lemony sweetness lingering like a soft kiss. “Sorry I haven’t been down to see you since we got back, I’ve been trying extra hard this term to get higher grades and such. I’ll need them if I want to get into the Auror programme.”

“Well then, you are forgiven, but I am a little concerned you may be working yourself too hard. I cannot help but notice that you are looking tired.” Remembering Severus’ hint, she hoped she had provided an opening that would encourage the boy to confide in her.

“No, no, not at all, I’m just resting and studying, eating and reading.”

“And what about Quidditch? Surely you have not abandoned you team?”

“’Course not. I’d be a fool to do such a thing.”

“Good, my dear, I am pleased to hear it.” Caitlin pointed her spoon at Harry before serving herself more tea. “Please, never give up on Quidditch, Harry, you have rare talent. Talent I wish I could have; talent I would wish for my children.”

Harry winced and, for a moment, felt an uneasiness that made his insides curl and protest his meagre breakfast. Surely she could not be pregnant again already, but what if she was? Could he ask? He brought his cup to his mouth again and peered at her from under his lashes. She seemed comfortable enough with him, so he took a chance. “Are you… I mean, already?”

Caitlin placed her cup down on its saucer and then looked at him, heaving a sigh. “No, Harry, it is far too soon yet. Severus and I will not try again for a while.”

“Oh, I hope I wasn’t being rude… it’s just that… it was pretty hard for me too.” It made me wonder if not just anyone could have a child.

She reached over and placed a hand on his knee, which, he noticed, was cold. “Do not let it scare you, dearest Harry, and I thank you for your concern.” She drew her hand away and took a few sips of her tea. “Despite our loss, I know I am one of the lucky ones. Being raised by muggles, you might not be aware that not all witches can bear children, which is why some wizards opt to magically enhance their bodies to conceive themselves. But Severus will have none of that! His worry is that something will go wrong and we will end up with a deformed baby.”

Harry thought for a moment that he was going to choke on his tea. He leaned forwards and, shakily, placed the cup on the table before clearing his throat of its discomfort. “Did you… did you ask him if he would…”

“Ask what, Harry?”

“If he would… you know, carry a baby?”

A series of bashful giggles followed before Caitlin finally admitted that she had asked, but that, of course, Snape had distastefully objected. “Besides, with his work for the Order, he could never risk carrying a child. It would be too dangerous for the both of them.”

Harry shifted around in his chair for a few moments, thinking, and caught movement in the corner of his eye. Snape had emerged from the office and was taking in the domestic scene, rolling his eyes.

“Hello, ladies, how is your tea?”

“Oh, just dandy,” Harry smiled and fluttered his eyelashes. “Won’t you join us?”

“Quite the sense of humour, Mr. Potter, I will of course join you.” Snape winked and took a seat next to his wife. “I take just lemon in this tea if you please.”

Harry sat there, mentally gaping. Snape had not just done that.

After he had been served his tea, he took two small sips and looked at Harry from over his teacup. “Such big eyes you have,” Harry commented.

Caitlin turned to face Snape. “Let me see, dear.” She brushed the raven hair off his cheeks and assessed his eyes. “Black they are. But big… hmm… I don’t see it.”

Harry chuckled. He was just playing with Snape, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Sorry about this, but I’m going to have to leave soon. I have Quidditch practice. We have a big game against Ravenclaw next week.”

“Oh, well thank you for your time, Harry.” Caitlin smiled and stood to see him out.

Snape placed his tea down and raised himself off the sofa and left the room without a word.

SEVERUSSNAPESEVERUSSNAPESEVERUSSNAPE

Luckily for Harry, the practice session was planned as general flying training rather than a full-on workout, and not particularly rough. Their captain had decided to instil some harmonization into the team and had everyone fly in pairs around the grounds.

“Stay close to your partner, you must act as one. You must be able to predict your partner’s moves! If you’re able to do this, we’ll be much quicker and responsive to each other during the game.”

The team split off into pairs, Ron making for Harry’s side immediately. They took off in the direction of the castle but Harry could sense that Ron was not concentrating. By the time they had reached the halfway point, Ron was trailing Harry’s Firebolt, veering a good twenty feet to the left. He was just staring ahead, not focused on flying at all. Harry reigned in a bit to allow him to catch up.

“Harry,” Ron asked, “what do girls like?”

“Girls?” Harry shot Ron a confused look. “The hell should I know.”

“Well, a Hufflepuff girl, they like… sweet sappy things, right? So if I took her to some cheesy cafe, d’you think she’d like it?

“I don’t know.” He tried to picture him and Severus holding hands over cream cakes but the image wouldn’t hold.

They were lapping around the school’s six tallest towers, a good forty feet behind another two that were flying slightly below. Just as they had completed their second lap, Harry turned his head and decelerated sharply. Ron, completely lost in thoughts of a certain Hufflepuff girl he was trying to woo, carried on. Harry turned his broom and headed for the Owlery to his left. So what if he wasn’t doing his laps, he had spotted Snape and he was alone, standing against the railing, watching him. Harry looked around once more then casually flew to hover in front of the opening.

“Just for the record, it’s a little difficult to concentrate when an Adonis is watching me.”

“An Adonis, Potter, you flatter me.” Snape ran his hand through his hair. “Are you going to recite the balcony scene from Romero and Juliet?”

Harry manoeuvred his broom over the railing so he could stand beside Snape. “I don’t know it by heart. But if I did… maybe.”

“Go back to your practice, Potter, before you lose points.” The older wizard took a few steps into the opening to the owlery but Harry checked the move, taking a few steps backwards and blocking his way. “Such actions could cause rumours to arise of you and I sharing a convivial acquaintance, and I do not think you really wish for that, do you?”

“I doubt anyone would ever think that, except Caitlin, perhaps. But she’ll probably take it as an indication that you want to adopt me.”

“And we cannot have that, can we?” Snape raised his brow and took a few steps towards Harry.

“I don’t know. Maybe that depends on whether you don’t mind having an affair with your adopted son.”

“Rubbish!”

Their surroundings dimmed, as Snape pressed forwards some more, forcing Harry to step back into the owlery.

“I know you want me, Severus, you won’t care so long as I’m yours.”

“That, Mr. Potter, is where you are wrong.”

It was warm inside, charmed to be so in order to keep the owls comfortable. From above, dozens of round eyes watched the two figures below, where the taller was slowly driving the smaller towards the far wall. They fluffed their feathers and twittered their beaks at the display.

Harry set his broom against a wall, allowing Snape to back him up against the rough stone. He felt the heat penetrating the thick quidditch robes, beads of sweat trickling down his spine, igniting his groin into awareness. He drew off his leather gloves and armguard, tossing them to the side. They fell upon the flags with a thunk, causing him to start a little. His fingers now free, he stretched out and touched Snape’s face.

“I would not do that,” Snape growled, as he continued his progress, pressing into Harry’s soft hands.

“W… why not?”

Snape’s hands slid between the folds of Harry’s robes. They brushed up his arms, muscles twitching under the touch, to his shoulders where he paused, his eyes raking the young man’s face. Then he jerked the robes onto the floor before retracing his strokes downwards to settle on Harry’s waist.

“Then I will be tempted to advance… And. Osculate. You.”

With lips so close and his breath so warm, Harry’s eyelids felt heavy and his knees unstable. Blood abandoned his brain and his cock began to harden. He brought Snape’s head down with one hand and pulled the man’s hips into his groin with the other. Feeling the thin lips grace his, he moaned and his cock gave another twitch just as he heard Ron calling out his name. Snape quickly took a good three steps back, ripping himself from Harry just before Ron flew through from the balcony.

“Harry?” Ron looked from one face to the other, the younger one seemingly flushed and… But Ron didn’t want to think what else.

“Harry?” Ron said again, walking towards his friend. “You alright, mate?”

“Fine. Just a little…,” Harry looked towards Snape, “… frustrated.”

“Mind your attitude, Potter.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Ron switched nasty glances between Snape and Harry.

“Nothing, Ron, everything’s fine, Professor Snape just needed to ask me for a favour.”

Ron glanced around the tower, his eyes settling on Harry’s robes, gloves and armguards on the floor. Harry lunged for them, sweeping them into his arms and, grabbing his broom, he nodded at Ron.

“I’ll meet you outside in just a second.”

Ron opened his mouth as if he were going to say something but then shrugged and flew out to hover around the tower.

“That was too close.” Harry whispered, his heart was pounding against the walls of his chest. After he had fixed his clothing, he grabbed his broom and mounted it.

“Professor… can I – ”

“Go back to practice before one third of your ménage decides to return.”

Harry groaned and rolled his head back before he flew off.

“Thanks a lot, mate,” Harry’s voice was dripping with sarcasm once he was hovering beside his supposed best friend.

Obvious though it was, Ron completely missed Harry’s jibe.

“Anytime, mate!” He smiled then lowered his broom towards the team captain. “He wants to practice speed laps around the tower. He said that we needed to increase our agility and stamina.”

Fuck. Accelerating on a broom didn’t sound like the best idea at this time, and maybe not the smartest thing for Harry to do for the next eight months. Cursing under his breath once more, he gripped his broom and followed Ron, his stomach already roiling at the thought. If he started vomiting uncontrollably, it would only intensify everyone’s attention to his unusual behaviour recently. However, he didn’t want the rest of the team to start calling him a pansy either.

“Stay close to your partner and follow me. Seeker, up front!”

That was all Harry heard from the captain before everyone picked up the pace. He pushed the head of his broom forwards and sped up, moving round his team-mates to find a spot beside the captain.

“Don’t look behind you. Stay close to me. And try to not fall behind. Ever had one of those brooms up your arse?” The captain called over to Harry.

“No…”

“Trust me, you won’t like it.”

Even if Harry had had far bigger objects up his arse, he wasn’t about to start arguing.

While the captain was sorting them into formation, it was a slow, controlled pace, but he really kicked it into high gear once they passed into open sky. Keeping to the captain’s side, it was like a sudden thrust and already Harry began to feel a little queasy. All too soon, his stomach rebelled and he knew he would have to slow down or stop altogether if he was going to keep from throwing up. Then the captain sped up and Harry gripped his broom firmly, gritting his teeth together.

He felt the wind whipping his hair, pulling at the roots; he felt it cut through his lips and dive into his mouth, swathing around his neck to delve into his shirt and steal the little warmth he had. It cut sharp as knives into his chest and throat, enough, he thought, to make him bleed. The captain turned sharply and, given any other state, Harry would have nailed it, but today, his stomach slew from one side of his hips to the other.

“Merlin…”

Harry leaned forwards, trying to find some relief. Then he saw the captain stretching his arm to the far left. They were going to do another lap.

“God no…” he muttered. His stomach ached and his face felt hot. He could feel his jaws trying to widen… giving way to the vomit that was about to emerge. No. Harry was not going to make it. He threw a look at the captain and shook his head. Quickly, he broke away and left the team scattered, not knowing whether to follow the captain or the seeker. Harry raced down towards ground; just before he landed his throat went into spasm and he felt a viscous substance trailing down his chin and neck.

He stumbled off his broom and braced himself as everything he had eaten within the last twenty-four hours broke free. Harry took a hold of the rock beside him and his other hand pushed against a tree. He vomited again and he felt his mouth burning and his stomach… it felt like it was about to tear. His tongue stuck out even further the third time around as he emptied whatever juices he had left and finally, he fell down on one knee.

“Harry, Harry, you alright?” The captain rushed over to stand beside him. “Get a professor!”

Katie, one of the chasers, turned and flew off in search of the first teacher she could find.

“Harry?!”

Slightly, but noticeably, Harry nodded then groaned, another paroxysm causing a cold sweat to break out all over his face and upper body. He hated that feeling, nothing good ever ensued. And, as he predicted, he heaved again, bringing only bile.

“Damn, Harry. If you weren’t feeling well today, you shouldn’t have come to practice.”

He shook his head and sat down. “I’m just out of shape…”

“Just out of shape? Look at yourself. Make sure you get well before you decide to show up again. If you aren’t well, we won’t win.”

Katie came back shortly, Professor Snape striding ahead, his black robes clouding out behind him. As he reached them, the huddle of Gryffindors parted instinctively, allowing him room to lean in front of Harry. The boy was awfully pale and his hands and arms were shivering. It was still snowy outside, but his robes were warm and he was barely showing any skin.

“Can you stand, Potter?”

“I can… I can…,” Harry nodded as he struggled to get off his knees. Don’t fall… don’t fall. That thought fluttered through his mind as darkness first narrowed then took his vision and his knees buckled. Harry fell sideways and into his captain’s arms.

“Woo!!” one of the players jested, Snape didn’t know which one. “Didn’t know you had a thing for Potter!”

Snape stood upright and pulled an unconscious Harry out of the captain’s arms quickly and into his own. The captain, more than willing to pass on the burden, stepped back, embarrassment writ over his face.

Severus gathered the form of his ex-lover against his shoulder, one arm under the boy’s knees, and strode off towards the entrance to the castle. His earlier conversation with Granger plus Harry’s strange behaviour and sickness at Christmas played through his mind. He had two choices, take Harry to the infirmary and place him under the care of Poppy Pomfrey or take him to his quarters and demand answers.

The latter seemed less practical but far more desirable.

“Professor?” Harry’s voice was forced and weary.

Without looking at the boy in his arms, he whispered, “I’m taking you to my chambers.”

Oh no. Harry started to panic. If Snape tried to force anti-sickness potions into him, he could possibly hurt the baby. He shook his head, trying to clear the light-headedness and pushed at Snape’s chest.

“This happens all the time… really. I’m fine… I can handle myself.”

“Nonsense, Potter, you almost carpeted the grounds with your intestines.”

“It’s alright. I just tried this new candy and I guess it didn’t agree with me. Better out than in.” He attempted to smile but it looked more like the grimace it was.

“Restrain yourself from any more inanities, you are making a scene,” Snape growled, as he stepped through the painting and into his private chambers.

“Why am I here?”

Snape laid Harry down on his couch and pressed his hands against the boy’s shoulders to prevent him from rising. His eyes held Harry’s for a long moment then he withdrew, pulling up a chair beside the young man’s side before he sat down.

“You haven’t been acting like yourself.”

Harry rolled over on the couch to face the dark eyes examining him. “I need to use the bathroom,” he mumbled.

“Fine, go. Clean yourself and then I want you back here.”

Harry staggered through the door indicated and into the bathroom. Not wanting to give the Potion Master reason to check up on him, he hastily rinsed his mouth and scraped a wet towel over his face and robes. It occurred to him that he was back in Snape’s chambers… alone with him. Pausing only to check his reflection in the mirror, he returned to the sitting room.

Snape had lit the fire and was watching Harry as he crossed the room towards him. He quietly took a seat on the couch and when Snape did not join him at his side, he sprawled out and lay on his side.

“You look like you want to say something.”

“This is not the first incident of sickness and you have distanced yourself from your friends. Might I inquire what is wrong with you?” His voice was low and without emotion but nevertheless Harry sensed sincerity and, maybe, some trace of concern.

“What’s it to you?” Harry turned away from the probing eyes.

There was silence for a minute or two and Harry watched the flames lick the sides of the inglenook.

“I am concerned.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m doing anything against the school rules. I’m just spending more time with myself. It’s nothing bad. You do it too, don’t you? You like your privacy and so do I. Is that so wrong?!” Harry felt angry and knew it was as a result of his rising panic. Snape must not find out about his pregnancy, that he was going to be a father – hell, they were both going to be fathers. He felt hysteria bubble in his insides and his empty stomach lurched again. He suppressed a groan.

“Occasional privacy is one thing, but shutting yourself off from your friends completely is another. You may flee before the attentions of your former cohorts, ignore the sympathetic ear of my wife, but I am not so easily dispensed with, Potter. I suspect you of hiding something.”

Impulsively, Harry’s hand splayed over his stomach and he quickly moved to touch his waist to hide the gesture.

Snape, narrowed his eyes and they flashed red in the glow of the firelight. “Tell me at least that your godmutt and pet wolf have your confidences and I might just consider letting you go.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just… I have something going on and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Something planned?” Snape moved closer to the sofa but pulled back again at the sound of the portrait door closing.

Caitlin was looking over at them curiously. “Is it something special, Harry dear?”

Finally, someone who could help get Snape off his back… for the moment. Time was precious and so when the opportunity came to buy some more, Harry was more than willing to do whatever it took. “Yes. It’s something that I planned on an impulse and I want to see it through now.”

“Is that so?” Caitlin came to stand beside Snape.

In the midst of her arrival, a thought had almost stunned Harry. It was thrilling that Caitlin was so accustomed to having Harry around that his unexpected presence in their quarters, alone with Snape, did not faze her.

“Well, have you had any progress?”

“Oh, definitely, almost one and a half months of progress, and since I’m on a roll, I’d like to keep it that way.” Honesty is the best policy. And it worked to Harry’s advantage. Luckily, both of them failed to grasp the underlying message, resulting in Caitlin siding with Harry over something she didn’t bother trying to squeeze out of him.

“Let the boy alone, Severus. Really, he’s a seventh year and I am sure he knows what he is doing.”

“Yeah, Professor Snape, I know what I’m getting myself into, and it isn’t anything that’ll cause you or the school any problems.” Harry felt his conscience prick a little but he told it to sod off. “It’ll be my burden.”

At that, Snape’s eyes turned from irritated to anxious. “Care to explain exactly what it is that will be a burden, Potter?”

“No. It’s something I won’t have interrupted.” Harry felt his blood warm at the power he was holding over the man and his voice turned cold and unfeeling. He then rose from his seat and headed towards the door. “I’ll take my leave. Good day, professors. I’ll see you next class.”

Harry then stepped through the portrait door, leaving a decidedly angry Snape with his wife.

HARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTER

The Band of Illusion. That was the only thing on Harry’s mind for the next week. He needed that band desperately now if Snape was going to pay more attention to him. Why he couldn’t have been this assiduous when they were lovers was a constant chant for him. The more he pondered their relationship the previous year, the more it rankled. Snape had had the audacity to demand Harry’s fidelity and yet he had been courting and then bedding a wife! Why he hadn’t absorbed the hypocrisy before he did not know but now it ate at him, curling into his belly like a snake. Sometimes he hated both Snape and Caitlin and at others he hated just her; her red, messy curls, her feminine curves, frilly sentiments and, most of all, her thievery. In his saner moments, those of uncomfortable clarity, he knew that his anger at the bride and groom was an attempt to deflect his attention from his conscience. He had tricked his former lover, his teacher, into making him pregnant and was going to deny that teacher any share of that baby’s life.

And, to do that he needed that damn band.

Perhaps for the next two months he could get away with saying he had merely put weight on, but once the fifth and sixth month rolled round it would be obvious to all that his growth was localised and not from a lack of exercise or gluttony. So, on Saturday morning, he drafted a letter to the company and called Hedwig to him. She watched him in fond amusement while he wrestled with the problem of address. He knew the company’s name but not their direction. Did he have to give a specific address to the bird, or just name the company? He decided he had no other option than to take a chance on the latter and, sealing the small missive, he gestured for her to come closer.

The white owl disappeared through the window and soon was a speck in the distance. Harry looked down at himself for the hundredth time that day. His little baby was growing inside him. His stomach was as flat as ever but Harry knew that it wasn’t going to last. I wonder… are you a boy or a girl?

As he walked back to the castle, he saw a couple, probably fifth years, walking along the shore, holding hands.

“I just haven’t had any luck with lovers,” he muttered to himself. Though, thus far he had had only a failed attempt at having a girlfriend and one lover. Just one, not two, or more upon which he could gain experience and discover new things. He breathed a sigh of self-pity and prayed that eventually he would meet someone; a man willing to love Harry in return, unconditionally.

SEVERUSSNAPESEVERUSSNAPESEVERUSSNAPE

Another week passed much like the one before and the one before that and so on. One morning, as the owls flew into the Great Hall, Harry noticed Hedwig’s bright feathers among them, a parcel grasped in her talons. His heart rose in anticipation and he half-turned on the bench, straddling it. As he watched her come closer, a dark shape suddenly blocked her from view. Harry looked at the shape, at the lank black hair and hooked nose heading down the aisle towards him, and then back at the white owl, now almost at the Gryffindor table. Fearing the parcel would have ‘Band of Illusion’ stamped all over it in bright lettering, the boy frantically tried to communicate to the bird with his eyes that she was to be discrete. The last thing he needed was for Snape to put two and two together and make four.

Obviously not fluent in eye-speak, Hedwig flew straight to Harry and dropped a parcel the size of a shoebox, wrapped in brown paper, into his lap. Harry quickly jostled the box into his robes, without glancing at it and scrambled off the bench. But he wasn’t fast enough; Snape came to a stop in front of Harry.

“A present, Mr. Potter, from whom I wonder?”

“Sirius. He sent me some chocolate.”

Snape arched a brow. “My, my, what a fond hound he must be to send you such a copious supply.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice to a study of silken contempt. “Are you sure you can consume that amount in your condition?”

A/N: Thank you for reading. Feel free to critique and comment.