Pains and Contradictions

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no money on this fic.

A/N: Thank you to all the lovely people who've reviewed. You truly make my day as I continue with this fic. A special thanks must go to what can only now be referred to as The Marriage Stone Discussion Group, who helped a bit with the very last part of this chapter. The ongoing discussions with the incredibly intelligent individuals are a constant source of inspiration. Also, thanks to Laruenke1 for a plot beta and Torina Archelda who once again put hours into a grammar scrub and helped with Snape's characterization.

This chapter is dedicated to White Cotton, lover of books and the written word. May you always be lightly starched and delicately folded.


"A half-truth is the most cowardly of lies." -- attributed to Mark Twain


Harry slowly climbed the stairs to the owlery, running the fingers in his pocket over the message he'd penned to Draco Malfoy only minutes ago.

He opened the door and the woody smell that always accompanied owls assaulted his nostrils. He looked around for Hedwig, recalling the night he had sent her there only a few days ago.

Seeing the snowy owl, he called to her, "Here, girl." She flew down gracefully and landed on his unprotected arm as lightly as she could.

Harry petted her a few times and smiled at her cooing. "I need you to take this to Draco at Malfoy Manor."

Before he tied the message onto Hedwig's extended leg, he read through the short message one last time.

Malfoy,

Meet me at the doors of the Entrance Hall at 10 a.m.

P

It was short and to the point. He had written the message in front of the headmaster but he didn't need the older man's presence to know he had to keep it simple. As if any message from himself to Malfoy would contain anything other than only absolutely necessary information.

He rolled up the small role of parchment with one hand and secured it to Hedwig's leg. "Wait to take this to him until he's alone and try not to be seen." With one more stroke on the soft white feathers, Hedwig took flight and flew out the door.

Harry started the short walk back to the castle interior in a slow stroll. He'd been invited by the headmaster to finally attend a meal in the Great Hall but he knew he wouldn't make an appearance. His grief was still on the edge of his mind but he kept it at bay, knowing that it still was not the time to grieve. He couldn't keep himself from wondering if that time would ever come.

He slowed his steps as he walked past the Great Hall. Sure enough he could hear soft chatter and the clinking of silverware through the door. He was sure he would have heard Remus and the other professors were he to strain his hearing, but he lingered just a moment before making his way back to the infirmary.

Harry walked the hallways at an even slower pace than he had before. Snape was awake and alert now, and in possession of his wand. Even last night, when Snape had been virtually defenseless, he knew there had been no real reason to be visiting the man. Hogwarts was virtually impenetrable, and it wasn't as if Harry's presence offered the man any solid protection.

Harry approached the closed infirmary doors with trepidation. What would he tell Snape when he asked what Harry was doing here when he should have been eating in the Great Hall? Not one good reason came to his mind, aside from the truth, which would only result in Snape spewing insults against his sanity. Resolved to take the man's usual vitriol and snide comments in stride, he pushed open the door and looked inside.

He immediately wished he had not done so.

Snape was alone in the infirmary, sitting up in bed and struggling to keep what looked like oatmeal from getting all over his face and nightclothes. He was propped up by several pillows, but Harry could tell that the man was using his own strength to keep his back straight. His pale hand was shaking as it slowly brought a small amount of oatmeal up to his mouth.

He watched in almost horrified fascination as Snape slowly opened his mouth and brought the shaking hand up to meet it. The intensity of the gesture was not lost on Harry and he wondered how long it had taken Snape to eat what looked to have been a full bowl of the warm cereal. It suddenly occurred to him that he should leave; he knew the man would not want to be seen in such a weakened state.

Harry shouldn't have been so surprised when he was discovered. Snape always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to detecting him lurking in doorways. Upon realizing he was being watched, Snape returned the spoon to his bowl and turned his head toward Harry.

Snape's usual glare seemed half-hearted at best as he acknowledged his presence. "Potter." His voice sounded stronger than it had only hours ago. "Why aren't you downstairs making pleasant conversation with Hagrid about whatever misguided attempt at house-training a wild beast he's attempting this summer?"

Smiling at not being immediately tossed out on his ear, Harry entered the room and walked over to Snape's bed, taking a seat in the chair beside it.

Snape continued to look at him, and for a moment a curious expression crossed his face, and Harry realized he hadn't answered his question.

"Oh... um... I just wasn't hungry, I suppose. Had a large lunch," he lied.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're not a very good liar, Potter. We should work to remedy that this summer lest the Dark Lord or one of his minions ask some silly question that has you spilling every secret in that unshielded mind of yours."

Harry fiddled with his fingers nervously and tried not to look too surprised at the situation he currently found himself in. His mind went right past the reference to his failed attempt at Occlumency and latched on to the most important part of Snape's statement.

He wasn't kicking him out. He had been prepared for the fight of his life. This was unexpected.

"Why are you here, Potter? Surely the headmaster gave you a room for at least the time being."

Spoke too soon, Harry thought. He opened his mouth and tried his hardest not to stutter. "Well, he did offer but... well..."

Snape was looking at him like he was one of the dead specimens in those jars down in his office. He studied Harry for a moment longer, which left him feeling more exposed than he could ever remember being. Even the whispers and accusations during his fifth year hadn't been this intense.

Snape seemed to make up his mind about something. He motioned to the bowl on his lap and said, "Well, as long as you're going to force me to suffer your presence, you can at least make yourself useful." Harry picked it up for him and put it on a nearby tray.

The Potions Master leaned back on his pillow and breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. When he looked at him again, Harry was surprised to see a much more open look on his face than he had ever seen before.

"How was the funeral, Potter?"

Harry was only mildly surprised to hear Snape's question. He'd been keeping those thoughts at bay well enough before Snape brought them up. Knowing that the words 'polite' and 'Snape' hardly ever went together in a sentence, he knew the man was being sincere. He actually wanted to know how the funeral of one of his most disliked students had been.

Before he could even think about being grateful, a wave of guilt assaulted Harry. He knew Snape had been angry with Remus for assuming his form with polyjuice. How angry would Snape be if he ever discovered the comfort he had taken at the funeral from his physical presence alone? He knew it had been very unfair to Remus, who had tried so hard to comfort him, but Harry knew that whatever had changed in the past few days with Snape had brought around the feeling of kinship and safety that had helped him endure the misery of the day.

Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he answered, "It was like Remus said." He cleared his throat to rid it of the lump that resided there. "There was a man who talked about Ron and then a few people said some nice things... it was... nice."

Snape glared at him. "Nice?" Snape said incredulously. "A new quill is nice, the house elves serving your favorite pudding is nice. Are you actually going to tell me that attending the funeral of your best friend was 'nice?'"

Harry felt his eyes tear up and he struggled to not allow even one tear to fall. He crossed his arms around his chest and thought to himself that Snape really was a bastard.

"You can tell Lupin whatever you want, Potter. He seems like the type to let you wallow in your misery until you're ready to crack. Only don't lie to me. You put your best friend in the ground today. Don't sit there and tell me it was 'nice.'" He sneered the word like it had offended him somehow.

Harry wanted to be angry at the man in bed for being such a heartless git, but he had learned enough about Snape in the past few days to know that he really was trying to get him to talk. The listless haze he had been in all year must have weighed heavily on Snape's mind. It seemed snapping at him until he revealed everything he was feeling was the professor's way of being kind.

Telling himself that this man had been honest with him about the worst moments of his life, Harry resolved to do the same. "It was awful." Harry's voice was lowered to a soft gravel as he struggled to keep control of himself. "I think... it was the single most excruciatingly painful experience of my life. When Sirius died..." he paused here and took a deep breath. "When Sirius died, there wasn't a body left. He was just gone. I didn't have to go to a funeral and listen to someone who had only met him a few times talk about him as though he knew him."

Harry had gone pale and his hands were shaking the way they had last night. Snape was looking at him as if he was committing every word to memory. He remained quiet and allowed Harry time to collect his thoughts.

"I was so afraid of seeing his body. When we first went into the cemetery, I didn't think I would make it. I just didn't want to see him like that. It just made it so real. There was this box and all his family was there and suddenly reality hit me. He was dead."

Harry couldn't keep the tears from falling as he thought about seeing his best friend's coffin closing and that big pile of earth falling on top of him.

"I knew he was dead," he said forcefully as he wiped his eyes behind his glasses. "I mean, I knew it... I wasn't in denial or crazy or anything." Harry looked at Snape as though the man was going to start spewing accusations at him, and Harry belatedly realized he was defending himself when no one was attacking him.

Harry looked down at his hands. "He was dead but... seeing him just... lifeless like that. In this box... and hearing his family and Hermione say all these things about him-" Harry paused and wiped a wayward tear from his eye. "It just made it real. Ron's dead."

Snape nodded. "Was it difficult for you, not being able to comfort Ms. Granger and commiserate with his family?"

Harry's thoughts went back to Hermione and her open sobbing and that beautiful poem she had read. He nodded. "It was horrible. I don't think I would have make it... if it hadn't been for you being there next to me I--" Harry stopped as he realized what he had said and snapped his head up to meet Snape's eyes-

Which were wide with surprise at Harry's words. Harry had never seen the Potions Master's face so expressive before. His black eyes betrayed him as he processed what Harry had just confessed.

Meeting Snape's eyes, wide and dark with some emotion he couldn't quite define, Harry was forced to acknowledge that something strange and irrevocable hovered between them in that moment. He had no idea what, but something transformed in that instant. Harry knew that his feelings for the Potions Master had changed and after his discussion with Dumbledore the other night, he knew that something must have changed for Snape too. But the man had been injured and in pain for the past day and night and there had been no time for either of them to address what had occurred between them. In an instant, Harry's words had brought out of the shadows the transformations they had both endured and cast them in the strongest of lights. It lay there in the space between them, forcing them both to acknowledge it.

Snape looked away first.

"He was your best friend, Potter. You were distraught. It's only natural that you would have experienced some confusion."

Before Harry could open his mouth to protest Snape cleared his throat and said, "The funeral, Potter. You were going to tell me about Ms. Granger."

Whatever strange thing that had lain between them in those moments was gone. Harry blinked, feeling as if he had just awoken from a very intense daydream. Knowing that now wasn't the time to be baring his soul to the man, Harry continued.

"She, um... she was crying the whole time. She never stopped." He tried to refocus on his feelings at the time but it was difficult with Snape looking at him like he could see right through him.

"She recited this poem, had everyone but Remus crying." Harry scoffed, "You would have been proud of him. Not one dry eye in the entire place except yours."

Snape rolled his eyes at that and seemed to regain some of his former snark. "Yes, I'm sure the wolf did an excellent job of standing there being quiet. I count the fact that he didn't go around smiling at people to be a victory."

"Yeah," Harry said with a small laugh.

There was silence in the infirmary as Harry studied Snape. The man still wasn't looking at him; he seemed to find his own long-fingered hands much more interesting at the moment.

"I don't suppose you'll actually find a way into your own bed tonight, will you, Potter?" Snape said quietly, still not looking directly at Harry.

Harry couldn't respond to that. To say out loud what he was thinking would be to acknowledge all that had gone on between himself and the Potions Master. He would have been prepared for screaming or taunting insults made against his person, but Snape's current incarnation was lost on him. He had no idea what to say to the man. Snape's feelings for him had changed, but into what? Harry had never had a look like the one the Potions Master had given him directed at himself before.

Snape must have taken his silence to mean he was staying in the infirmary that night because not a minute later, Snape said, "Well if you're going to continue to make a nuisance of yourself, hand me that blue bottle on the table."

The man nodded in the direction of a small side table near the chair in which Harry was sitting. He picked up the small blue bottle and opened it before he was asked to. The smell that was coming from inside was unfamiliar to Harry, but he guessed it was part of whatever regime Madame Pomfrey set up to help Snape recover from that awful curse.

Without hesitation, Harry grabbed Snape's hand in his and wrapped the other man's long fingers around the blue bottle before quickly letting go Snape's fingers rubbed against each other before a shaky arm brought the potion up to his lips.

Harry took the vial back and noticed an issue of Potions Quarterly on the nightstand. He supposed Dumbledore had brought it for him earlier, but Snape could hardly turn the pages on his own, could he? Knowing that the Potions Master would never admit to such weakness, he picked it up and leafed through the beginning.

"Would you like to hear all about the breakthrough discovery of the effects of acromantula hair in restorative potions?" Harry asked, already settling into the chair and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "That would be assuming you can even read, Potter; a fact I've never been entirely convinced of." He huffed a bit as he continued, "I have no need to be read to like an invalid, put that down before you sprain that tiny mass between your ears you call a brain."

Harry just laughed. "Well, if I get stuck on a word, I'll be sure to ask."

"Merlin, I'll be forced to hear the butchering of the English language all night."

"Well, we're going to be here all night either way. At least now you can listen to something you like." Harry looked down at the article, noticing only a large picture but not necessarily what it was he was seeing. "Hey, there are pictures. That's something I can..." He cut off his own self deprecating joke as he realized what he was looking at and read the first line of the article which described the method of cultivating the acromantula hairs as seen in the picture. Harry looked up at Snape, a look of disgust on his face. "This seems a bit ominous."

The edge of Snape's lips turned slightly upward in some kind of half-suppressed smile. Harry gave a full out grin. If he was honest with himself, this is how he imagined being friends with Severus Snape would be like. Or rather, how he had hoped it would be once you cut through all the snarkiness and sarcasm.

He began to read the extremely tedious article, most of which completely went over Harry's head, only vaguely noticing when Snape's eyes fell shut and his head lolled towards Harry on his pillow.

Harry smiled, and kept reading long after Snape had fallen asleep.

*********************

The next morning found Harry pacing in front of the Great Hall. Remus had lent him some pants and a clean shirt that Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough to charm to fit him. He ran a hand through his hair and cast tempus for the third time in five minutes. 9:58 floated ominously in the air as Harry fingered his wand nervously, trying his hardest to prepare himself to meet Malfoy.

Breakfast had been a very quiet affair in the hospital wing as compared to what it had been the day before. Remus came up and ate with Harry and Snape instead of taking his meal in the Great Hall. He hadn't said a word about Harry's absence at dinner last night, but Harry took his friend's meeting him in the infirmary to be an acceptance of where Harry felt he needed to be at the moment.

He had a quick talk with Dumbledore, and they decided that Harry would come tell the headmaster what Malfoy had wanted the minute the conversation was over. The headmaster would be in his office awaiting Harry's word by floo.

He paced the hallway and again ran a hand through his hair. Just then, the doors to the Entrance Hall swung open and Draco Malfoy walked through.

He approached Harry with his usual swagger, dressed as finely as he had been the last two days Harry had seen him. He carried a brown leather satchel under his left arm and Harry thought he could see a quill peeking out from the sides.

"Potter," he greeted.

"Malfoy."

Silence stretched between the two of them as it was apt to do. Harry thought that perhaps this time he would be the first to speak.

"You wanted to talk with me?"

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah." Looking Harry in the eyes, he said, "I asked Professor Snape to have you write me so you'd know how serious I am about this. I need your help."

Harry barely withheld his scoff at that. Instead he nodded and asked, "Does it involve the professor?"

Malfoy sneered a bit and said, "Of course it involves the professor. I need to find something to help him and I'd like you to assist me."

Harry sighed a bit at Malfoy's tone but said nothing. "Alright. What do you want?"

Draco looked pleased to actually be getting somewhere in the conversation. "I want you to ask Dumbledore to let me use Hogwarts' library. There are a few protection spells I skimmed through during the year and I want to read up on them... for Snape," he added.

Harry struggled to hold in the feeling of puzzlement that threatened to take over his face. "Why don't you just ask him yourself? In fact, why didn't you just mention this to Snape yesterday, since--"

"Oh, please, Potter don't be daft. Do I look like I have a death wish? Would you ask Snape for permission to research protection spells because you're worried for him? Even hinting that he needs protecting would be too much of a blow to his pride- I would have been out on my arse before I could finish the question." Draco was giving Harry a vaguely horrified look as he continued, "And as for Dumbledore, you know he doesn't trust me- but he'd do anything for you."

Harry had already known that anything Malfoy said was a lie, but he struggled to wrap his mind around why the other wizard was telling him what he was.

"I'm sure you have enough books at that manor of yours."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course we have books. We have an entire library. A library that my father knows by heart and has charmed to let him know who touches what. I'm sure I could probably make up some story about why I'm looking up protection charms but I'd rather not have to. Therefore, I need your help."

Harry could see no reason to deny this, especially if he wanted Malfoy to believe he trusted him. He knew there had to be another reason for Malfoy needing the library, even if what he said about his father was true. Either way, he knew he needed to talk to Dumbledore.

"Alright, I'll ask him. You can come back--"

"Why? He's here, isn't he?" Draco said rather forcefully. "I'd rather not have to leave and come back and give my father yet another explanation as to my whereabouts. I'll wait, if it's all right with you."

Malfoy was standing his ground, daring Harry to deny him. Although he'd love nothing more than to toss Malfoy out by the collar of that over-starched robe he was wearing, he knew it would only be to Snape's detriment to refuse.

"Fine. Wait here and I'll go talk to him, but I can't guarantee he'll say yes."

Malfoy nodded. "I know. Just try. Remember, Potter this isn't for me, it's for the man that saved your life." Malfoy brought up the fact as if Harry needed to be reminded of it.

Harry turned and walked to the nearest floo, just in front of the doors to the Great Hall. Grabbing some powder on the mantle he cried out, "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts."

He immediately found himself tumbling out of Dumbledore's hearth, headed straight for the hard floor. Remus barely managed to catch him before he could fall on his arse.

The headmaster was sitting at his desk, alert and looking very much the way Harry imagined a general planning a battle would. "Please sit down, Harry. I trust by now you've met with Draco?"

Harry nodded and sat in what was becoming his usual chair. "Yes, sir." He paused to think of the proper way to explain what had happened so far. "He's asking to use the library. He says he wants to look up protection spells for Snape."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed at this and Remus looked as wary as Harry felt. Remus took the chair next to him on the opposite side of the headmaster's desk. Fawkes was lightly trilling on his perch as they waited for Dumbledore to speak.

"Did he say anything else? Any reason as to why he needs to use our library and not his own?"

"Yeah, he said that he doesn't want his father knowing what books he's looking at. Like it'd be obvious that they're for Snape or something." Harry made his opinion on the manner obvious by his tone. He didn't believe one word that came from Malfoy's mouth.

It was obvious that Dumbledore and Remus didn't believe him either.

Remus spoke for the first time. "He's walking a fine line, Albus. This is a very desperate move."

Dumbledore nodded. "Desperation can sometimes lead young men to make mistakes; it makes them run too quickly. It reveals what was hidden." Remus nodded at the headmaster's words, though he seemed to be speaking mostly to himself.

Suddenly the man came to a decision and he stood up. "Gentlemen, I need your help in the library. Quickly."

The three of them were instantly on their feet, Dumbledore holding out the jar of floo powder. First Remus, then Harry, then the headmaster stepped into the flames, each calling out "Hogwarts Library!"

Upon coming out of the hearth, Harry thought the library looked sober and devoid of life. Madame Pince always made sure it was as quiet as she thought a library should be, but now, Harry thought, it seemed as still as death.

Dumbledore turned to them and said, "We're going to cast a sentinel charm all over the library that will let us know every book that Draco touches."

Harry paused. "Wait, isn't that the same charm they have at the Malfoy Manor? Won't Malfoy be able to tell that it's been cast?"

Dumbledore was already walking over to the nearest shelves, casting a hastily muttered charm, so Remus answered Harry, "I doubt it, Harry. These books have so many protection spells cast on them that even if Draco were to cast some kind of revealing charm, I doubt he'd be able to find every spell that has been cast, or even differentiate between those cast today or centuries ago." Remus started walking to the nearest row of books. "And besides, I'm sure he'll be suspicious of Dumbledore casting some kind of charm on the library anyway. He's well aware that he isn't trusted, Harry."

Harry frowned, not entirely sure he approved of what was going on. "Of course he knows he isn't trusted, at least not by the headmaster. I don't understand why we're allowing him unfettered access to the library in the first place. I've been in the Restricted Section, Remus, I know what books we have there. Why would we let Draco anywhere near them?"

Dumbledore who had been silent except for his spell casting, suddenly contributed to the conversation. "Because, Harry, Draco has told us something very important today. He's told us that he would rather we discover his plans than his father. And that reveals something very important to us. Whatever his plans, they did not originate from Voldemort and he would rather we discover them than him." With that the headmaster again began to utter the charm over long rows of books, paying Harry and Remus little mind as he did so.

Remus turned away from Harry and took out his wand. "Draco is many things, Harry, but he isn't stupid. Whatever desperation is causing him to come here for these books, he's already made up his mind to use them. I doubt the matter of a revealing charm would put him off what he came here to do."

With that Remus waved his wand in a large sweeping motion, casting a charm on a long row of ancient looking tomes. Hearing the charm they were uttering, Harry started to walk over to the Restricted Section and cast vigilo on row after row of books.

Ten minutes later, the men met again at the front of the library.

Dumbledore turned to address Harry. "We'll floo back to my office now, Harry. I'd like you to floo from here back to the Entrance Hall. Tell Draco I gave him permission to use the library for three hours and that he's to leave the books as he found them. The wards to the front doors of the library will allow him inside."

Harry nodded and watched as the two men flooed back to the headmaster's office.

Harry steeled himself as he took the floo powder in his hand. He thought about Snape's comments to him last night about what an awful liar he was. He schooled his features to be completely passive as he took the floo powder in his hand and called out, "Entrance Hall, Hogwarts."

By some miracle he managed to only stumble a little as he exited the floo. Malfoy barely stifled a laugh as he watched Harry try to get his feet.

Harry scowled at him for a minute before saying, "Dumbledore said you can use the library for three hours and that you're to leave all the books as you found them."

Malfoy looked relieved and smiled. "Thank you, Potter. Snape will thank you too, once I'm finished with this."

That sounded more like a warning than anything else to Harry, but he nodded all the same.

They walked together in silence towards the library. As they approached the doors, Harry put a hand out and pulled the handle, relieved when the doors did indeed open for them.

He stood under the doorway as Malfoy walked in. "I'll come back in three hours, then."

Draco nodded, and closed the door on Harry's face.

********************

"For Merlin's sake, get your hands off me this instant, you meddlesome woman!"

Harry might have been tempted to laugh at the way Snape was handling Madame Pomfrey, but seeing the man sitting on the edge of his bed, barely able to keep himself upright killed any humor that might have been in the situation.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but you're not well enough to bathe on your own yet. If you don't want another cleaning charm, I'm afraid you're going to have to accept my assistance."

Snape growled as he attempted to push her hands away from him yet again. "I haven't had a proper bath in three days. I realize that there are many assumptions about my lack of hygiene, but I assure you three days is as far as I will go in wallowing in my own filth!"

Madame Pomfrey looked scandalized. "Filth? How dare you accuse me of not taking care of my patients. You're as clean as cleaning charms will allow. If you'd like a bath, Severus, I assure you that I am a professional and completely capable of bathing a grown man."

Snape looked horrified at that. "And I, being a grown man, am completely capable of seeing to it myself!"

Madame Pomfrey looked as though she had been having this argument for half an hour already. "Not in your current condition, you're not."

Snape raised an eyebrow. Harry could tell the argument was already having an effect on the man. He was shaking a bit more than he had been just a minute ago. "I seem to recall my mother casting charms on the tub in my youth to insure I would not drown myself and I assure you I am more than capable of levitation and drying charms."

Before Madame Pomfrey could open her mouth again, Harry made his presence known.

He didn't even have to say a word but he could tell he'd taken all the wind out of the mediwitch's sails. Though angry at Snape, it seemed she wouldn't embarrass him in front of another.

"Do you need help getting to the bath, Professor?" The words were out of Harry's mouth before he could even consider the consequences.

Before Snape could start berating him on assuming brats meeting untimely ends, Harry quickly walked over to the man's bed and slipped an arm around his waist, hoisting him up to his feet.

The man really was thin, Harry thought. He grabbed Snape's wand with his other hand as he steadied himself and the professor. The feeling of being on his feet after two days in bed must have been enough to silence the man because all Harry could hear from the Potions Master was a stifled gasp as his arm gripped Harry's shoulder tightly. The long-fingered hand he had felt on his back yesterday returned and Harry only felt a little guilty as he thought that it felt different coming from the actual man himself. Snape's hand was holding onto him with pressure and heat and Harry smiled as he realized he was once again able to help him, even if it was only in maintaining his dignity.

Harry chanced a look at Madame Pomfrey, only to find her face almost comical in its shock. It seemed as though rushing in to help the man too quickly for her to brook an argument had been the way to go.

Harry began the slow walk to the washroom near Snape's bed. He had no desire to humiliate the proud man further so he walked slowly, acting more as a large cane rather than carrying the man. He was shaky on his feet but his movements were sure and it only took a few minutes to reach their destination.

Harry helped the man sit down on the side of the tub and slowly eased his arm from around his waist, letting Snape lower himself onto the sides.

Snape had been silent in concentration while crossing the room with only Harry as an aide, but as he gripped the sides of the tub to keep himself from falling he seemed to remember himself. "I am not some invalid that you can carry around, Potter. I don't need as much help as Poppy seems to believe."

Harry was glad for the practice he'd already had that day on keeping his snorts to himself, for otherwise he would have surely caused hellfire to rain down on him by now.

"Maybe just a little." Harry smiled and raised his hand, putting his thumb and index finger together with only a small space between. The attempt at levity was better received than he had expected. The man scoffed and turned away, saying only, "Thank you, Potter. Now leave me to bathe in peace and tell that woman that if she so much as pokes her head in here she'll feel a wrath henceforth unknown to wizardkind."

Harry laughed and handed the man his wand. Snape's pale, shaky hand brushed against his as he accepted it.

*****************

Snape spent the better part of an hour in the tub. When the door finally opened, Harry looked through the cloud of steam that poured out of the room to see that the man standing there in fresh, infirmary white nightclothes had a death grip on the sink and door handle. Without a word, Harry quickly went to help the man back to bed. Snape put his arm around him like it was a practiced move and Harry once again felt that long-fingered hand on his back.

It seemed that the entire endeavor had tired Snape out quite a bit, as the man spent the half hour before lunch lightly dozing.

Just as he had at breakfast, Remus joined them for lunch at noon. Snape growled as soon as the other man entered the room, not wanting to make a spectacle of himself as he attempted to eat as neatly as he usually did.

As Harry watched the man carefully balance his soup spoon in his hand, he thought that the tremors seemed to be dying down, if only by a little. He tried to avert his eyes, conscious of the fact that the proud man would not want to be seen if he did spill a little on the night clothes he was wearing.

Remus left after lunch, saying that he had preparations to make for that evening. Belatedly, Harry felt incredibly guilty as he realized that tonight was the night of the full moon and that he had completely forgotten.

He also realized that while at Hogwarts, Snape had been the person who had made Remus his potion and that he most certainly had not done so for this week.

"Will you be alright without your potion, Remus?" Harry asked.

Snape scoffed on the bed but Remus cut off whatever scathing retort would have come out of his mouth. "I'll be fine, Harry. Professor Dumbledore managed to find a Potions Master who was willing and able to make the wolfsbane potion for me this month. Though I do appreciate your concern, Severus."

Snape lifted one long, elegant eyebrow at Remus' smiling face. "Do try to remember to actually take it this time, Lupin."

Remus' smile never faltered as he turned and walked out the infirmary doors.

The last hour before he would go and meet Malfoy was the longest hour of his life. They were spent in the infirmary where Snape had proceeded to ask him question after question on Malfoy's tone, inflection and every facial tick in the five minutes he had been in the younger Slytherin's company.

"He wanted to use the library?" Snape asked for the third time, as though Harry would change his answer this time around.

"Yes," Harry said exasperatedly.

"And his reason for this was to find a spell that would be for my benefit?" Snape asked, all the time sounding like a man talking to a person who was rather slow.

"Yes," Harry said, a bit put out.

"Hmm."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know. We'll know soon enough what books he's really looking at." Harry leaned back in his chair and craned his head toward the ceiling. "I've wandered around the Restriction Section enough to know that there are dark books there. I don't understand why Dumbledore is giving him unlimited access like this."

Snape scoffed and looked at Harry as though he were a complete idiot. "It's the quickest way to discover what Draco's true intentions are, Potter. Surely even you realize that?"

Harry nodded. "No, I do know that, just... well... he wouldn't be able to fulfill those intentions if he didn't have access to the library, right?"

"He would. He has other avenues to gain access to dark tomes. I concur with the headmaster's words as you repeated them. Draco would rather the people he views as enemies discover what he is scheming rather than his own father and the Dark Lord. That alone is troubling."

Harry thought about that for a moment, a chill running through his body. "I almost don't want to know. Like.... if I don't know there won't be some horrible plan he has cooked up for you, even if it's for your own protection. I don't know... I just don't think Malfoy could think of anything that wasn't completely selfish even if he is trying to help you."

"Yes," was all Snape had to say.

**************

Snape had managed to keep Harry from walking down to the library before the three hours was up. Somehow Snape's rolling eyes and scowling face didn't have the same affect on Harry as they had only a few days prior, a fact that Snape seemed to take in stride. He managed to keep Harry occupied for that last half hour by instructing him on the proper manner in which to act in front of the youngest Malfoy.

Harry walked down to the library slowly, again not wanting to seem agitated by Malfoy's presence. He opened the doors at exactly three hours from the time he had left Malfoy to see the wizard in question putting away his parchment and quill into the leather satchel and approaching the doors.

They nodded at each other, acknowledging the other's presence again.

"Find what you needed, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled what seemed to be a sincere smile. "I did. Thank you very much, Potter. I wouldn't be able to help Professor Snape if it wasn't for what I found today."

Harry would have known better to ask what Malfoy had learned in his studies even if Snape hadn't hammered it into his brain only minutes before. He walked with Malfoy down to the Entrance Hall where he then turned from where he was standing with his hand on the door.

He nodded to Harry once more and again put out his hand. "Thanks again, Potter. See you in September."

This time Harry didn't hesitate to take Draco Malfoy's filthy hand in his.

****************

Running like the devil was after him, Harry made it to the doors of the library in record time. He threw them open loudly and immediately went up to the section of the library that held the books on protections spells. He cast 'revelio' and watched as nearly every book in the section lit up in a faint glow.

Scrunching his brow in confusion, he inspected the books. They indeed looked like they had been read. The dust that had settled on a few of them had been brushed off and there were a few that stuck out by half an inch, giving the look of having been pulled recently, since Madam Pince would have made sure everything was in order before leaving for the summer holiday.

But Harry knew Malfoy was lying. If nothing else, he knew that everything that came out of his mouth was a lie. He started walking over to the other stacks, casting revelio as he went. Shelf after shelf came out clean from Malfoy's touch.

Harry could have smacked himself. Why hadn't he thought to start on the Restricted Section first?

He walked over to that side of the library slowly, fearful of what he would find. He thought back to his brief conversation with Snape in the infirmary, but he knew that he had to find out what Malfoy was planning. He owed it to Snape.

He began to cast revelio slowly on each shelf, taking his time with the more dangerous-looking books that might not take kindly to a spell being cast upon them hastily. Nearing the end of the section, he cast the spell and almost overlooked it as one single book lit up.

Harry walked over to the book cautiously. He slowly fingered the spine, noticing how the layer of dust that must have been there previously had been removed.

He took the book from the shelf and sat on the floor, not being able to take another step until he knew what Malfoy had planned for the man who had saved his life.

Darkest Bonds; the title was etched into the dark leather on a tome seven inches thick.

Harry opened the book and flipped to the first chapter.

What he read both shocked and terrified him. The book seemed to cover every bond that was considered dark in history.

Harry had heard of bonds before. He knew that the life-debt that Snape owed his father was a type of bond, and that the reason he had to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament was because of a magical bond, but beyond that he had no clue what he was reading.

Harry leafed through the pages as his heart stilled.

There in the book were descriptions of every kind of dark bond you could ever have a nightmare about.

There were bonds that enslaved one wizard to another, bonds that forced one person to suffer another's presence lest they go mad. Bonds that would bind wizards together in life and force the death of the other when one died. Bonds that would allow one to read the other's mind and feelings the way one would read a brightly lit sign.

There were bonds that forced another into sexual slavery, that would drive a wizard mad if he didn't allow his body to be used by his master. Bonds that would trap another's magic so that it could only be used with permission from the wizard holding the bond.

There were bonds that were dependent on a person's age, one in which a wizard could rape a younger wizard and take him as his thrall for the rest of his life. One bond allowed a wizard to use another to summon a demon and use the other's body to house it.

There were bonds that would force one person to fall desperately in love with another.

Harry saw all of this in only the first fifth of the book before he shut it, hands shaking and a million thoughts running through his head, each one worse than the last.

Harry thought he heard voices as he viewed the book in his hands, growing more and more panicked by the moment.

Finally, he heard Remus cry out, "He's over here, Albus."

Remus crouched on the floor next to Harry as he took in the younger man's pale demeanor and shaking hands.

"Harry, what is it? Are you alright?"

Harry looked at the book in his hands and thought of the man in the infirmary and said, "No."