Pains and Contradictions
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
39
Views:
55,206
Reviews:
368
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
39
Views:
55,206
Reviews:
368
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Stag and the Doe
Author's note: A thousand apologies for this chapter being so late. I have each chapter outlined to the point where I know where our two favorite people need to be by its end. It just so happens that it took 16,000 words to get them there this time. Also, my lovely beta Torina has a more demanding school schedule this semester. We will make every effort to update as soon as possible and rest assured that this story will be finished.
Thanks to my beta Torina Archelda and canon beta White Cotton.
And hello to all the lovely people at severussighs, our Snarry discussion group over on yahoo. If there are any questions about updates, you can always find me there. If you'd like me to respond to your review, please leave your email address. All reviewers are so appreciated as so much time goes into this story.
***************************
It was late.
It was very late.
It was so late that Snape was considering forgoing sleep that night and would have if it hadn't meant a verbal lashing from that shrew of a mediwitch in the morning when she came in for his daily check-up.
But the sound of Harry's voice and his intermittent laughter was so fulfilling that he hadn't had the heart to get up from his sofa and heed the call his very comfortable bed was giving him. Sleep meant leaving this place and it meant leaving Harry's presence and he quickly found that his desire for sleep was nothing compared to his desire for the young man sitting next to him.
"Alright, here's one for you," the young man said, one leg folded under the other and facing Snape. "If there is a heaven, and it could be anything at all, anything you wanted it to be... what would it be for you?"
Snape couldn't help the snort that came from his nostrils nor the roll of his eyes as he heard Harry's inquiry. He had been asking inane, meaningless questions like this all night, but Snape never once ignored them. The delight Harry took in his sardonic answers was enough reason to suffer the adolescent inquisition. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make his opinion known. Truth be told, he enjoyed how his retorts to Harry's questions were received and never tired of the other's laughter.
"Congratulations, Potter. I didn't think it possible but you've managed to outdo your 'If you could have any animangus form, what would it be?' inquiry. Really, I've no idea how that infantile mind of yours manages to put a sentence together in the first place."
Harry nudged Snape's knee with his. These little grazes were becoming more and more frequent but Snape still reveled in each touch, each little gift of intimacy that Harry didn't even realize he was granting him.
"Come on, Snape. These are great questions. It's suppose to make you question yourself, try to figure out what you love most in life. Whatever that is, that's what heaven would be like for you." Harry squinted a bit in thought and said, "So you, maybe, I don't know... would have a huge potions lab with loads of rare ingredients to play with and nothing would ever explode and every potion would come out exactly right." Harry smiled at his own guess. "Something like that."
Snape scoffed and said, "You and the headmaster are alike in this aspect, Potter- you both seem to assume that I live and breathe for my love of potions." At Harry's guilty look, Snape mentally berated himself for comparing Harry to the man who had spent the better part of a year completely ignoring him and quickly regrouped. "I do love, potions, Potter. I even like teaching to some extent-"
"Really?" Harry asked with false astonishment in his eyes.
"Hmph," Snape grunted before continuing. "Perhaps there'd be a lab of some sort in any kind of paradise I inhabit but that isn't what I'd do all day. Man cannot live on potions alone."
Harry chuckled lowly and said, "Alright, Snape, stupid guess. What would your heaven be like then?"
What Snape wanted to say was, 'There is no way I'm going to indulge you in this overly simplistic game of yours, Potter,' or 'That would be absolutely none of your business, now is it, you simpleton?' but what he actually said was--
"I imagine it would be something very much like this."
Snape's own eyes widened as he heard the words come out of his mouth and he could not stop as his head turned to face Harry's, the young man's own eyes wide with astonishment. The silence was thick between them and the only sound that Snape could hear was the faint crackling of the fire and the violent beating of his heart.
Before Snape could even backtrack and recede to his old vitriol, insulting Harry and blaming him for everything evil in the world, Harry softly whispered, "Is it like that for you, too?"
And with that the young man crossed the two or three inches that had kept them apart. Almost on top of him, Snape watched as Harry hesitantly stopped his assault, almost as if he was giving Snape an opportunity to push him away. When no such denial came, Harry approached him, placing his hands on Snape's shoulders, leaned over and lightly brushed his lips over the Potions Master's.
He couldn't truly call it a kiss, as neither of their lips moved against the other but that was quickly rectified as Harry placed a soft but equally innocent kiss on his lips again. This time, he felt as Harry's lips moved across his own, completely dry and very uncertain but still... it was a kiss.
Harry pulled back a bit, a stunned look in his eyes and looking for all the world as though he feared Snape was going to hex him into next Tuesday.
That beautiful look of innocence.
That brave act betrayed by the look of hesitation in those green eyes.
As though Snape could ever resist what Harry had to offer.
Something in Snape broke. The hold on his desire that he took so much pride in snapped under the pressure of Harry's unknowing assault. He ran a hand through Harry's hair and pulled the young man to him, kissing him with a force so strong he was sure he'd cut his own lip on his teeth.
Immediately, Snape took control over the situation. Whereas Harry's kiss had been tentative and innocent, Snape's was passionate and mad. He opened his own lips to tease Harry's, marveling in the distinctive taste of him. His heart soared as he heard the soft gasp Harry gave at Snape's fervor.
Harry really didn't taste of anything more than the pudding they'd eaten a few hours prior, but to Snape it was the most intoxicating flavor he'd ever come across in this life.
Kneading Harry's lips with his own, Snape quickly thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth and paused for a moment with bated breath. He stilled himself and waited until he could feel the shy tip of Harry's tongue touch his own.
Moaning, Snape gripped Harry's head harder and leaned over the young man, his tongue still mingling with Snape's and did not stop until Harry was underneath him, Snape's erection grazing Harry's thigh. Finally having the young man under him caused Snape to moan louder as he lightly thrust his cock against Harry's body.
Snape stopped suddenly at the gasp that was heard from underneath him. Not a moan of pleasure but a gasp of fear. He took his lips off Harry's, the audible sound of moisture leaving moisture filling the silence of the room.
Snape looked down to see what had startled Harry and was taken aback to see the outright look of disgust and horror in those bright green eyes.
A bit too late, Snape realized he still had his lower body draped across Harry's and that was, without a doubt, what had caused this sudden outburst from the younger man.
His body's reaction to Harry rapidly calming down, Snape quickly sat up as smoothly as he could, not wanting to frighten the young man further.
Like an animal quickly retreating from its prey, Harry stumbled as he struggled to sit up, never taking his eyes off Snape. He ran a hand through messy hair and spent a moment simply catching his breath, his eyes on the floor.
Of all Snape's sins, none seemed larger than the one he was staring in the face at this moment. He'd never felt more filthy in his life; not when he'd call Lily a mudblood, not when he had taken the Mark, not when he had heard the news that his friend was dead and he had killed her.
Nothing compared to this.
Slowly, Harry turned to look at him. The look of disgust marring that lovely young face was too much to bear.
What had he done?
This was supposed to be a safe place for Harry, a sanctuary.
Heaven.
"Harry, I -" but Snape was stalled as Harry put a hand up and stood up from the couch. Snape stood with him and Harry immediately turned to face him, backing away slowly.
"Wait, please..." Snape begged. He faintly recalled the last time he had begged for something and with great remorse remembered how well it ended up for him then.
Harry's face twisted into something awful. Gone was the beautiful smile and the mirth in his eyes. What was left was cold and cruel and struck down deep into Snape's heart.
"Why would I stay, Snape? Why would I stay here... with you and your-" Harry put his hands on his head and covered his eyes, seeming to avoid looking at Snape. "God, I can't believe I let you touch me! I can't believe I let an evil thing like you anywhere near me!"
Snape could barely argue against that. Why should Harry stay with a man such as him? Hadn't this been what he had desired all along? To find a way to have Harry leave? Leave him to his solitude, leave him to penance, and, when he was finally gone, his misery? Why was he begging the young man to stay?
"I apologize, Potter. I don't know what I was thinking."
"No, you didn't think. And I didn't either." Harry said maliciously. "We weren't thinking at all. If you'd been thinking," pointing his finger at him, Harry said very slowly, "then you'd have realized that I could never want you. And if I had been thinking, I'd have never let you anywhere near me. I'd have thought about everything you've done to me- how you killed my parents and sentenced me to a life of hell with people who hated me."
Snape shook his head but remained silent. Everything out of Harry's mouth was the truth but the words fell from his mouth like lashes on Snape's soul. Every fear, every failure, every sin was being broadcast out of Harry's mouth.
Harry shook his head in his anger but his face seemed twisted in grief. "There's an evil wizard that wants to kill me because of you, Snape. He wouldn't have known about the prophecy if you hadn't told him." Harry's voice grew louder as he released an anger that seemed to have been building for years.
"And you don't even blame yourself, you blame Fate! You tried to pawn that off on... what? God? Or the devil? What is this 'Fate' you keep talking about that somehow forces you to make horrible decisions? As if you can't make them on your own." Harry issued a hysterical laugh and sneered. "I can't believe you actually tried to make up such a lame excuse."
Snape wanted to protest, to tell Harry that he had been an instrument of Fate; that he knew somehow, someone would have brought the Dark Lord the prophecy, but what did it matter? Harry was right. Perhaps it hadn't been necessary for Snape to deliver the prophecy himself but what difference did it make? In the end, it had been Snape who had taken the prophecy to the Dark Lord and destroyed Harry's life. Anything else was irrelevant.
"You killed my mother, your best friend, to what end? To become the highest ranked Death Eater?" Harry looked at Snape and sneered, the gesture looking awful on that beautiful young face. "You disgust me."
Harry took a few more steps towards the door, walking backwards and never taking his eyes off Snape. "My best friend is dead because of you, Snape. All of this," Harry waved his arms around the room widely, "is because of you. If you hadn't delivered the prophecy to Voldemort then I wouldn't be here. I'd be at home... with my mom and dad... and Sirius."
Snape watched as an angry tear leaked from Harry's eye.
"But I'm not. I'm here with you... hiding out in the dungeons like some monster. And it's all because of you, you evil, soulless bastard."
Harry walked slowly to the door of his rooms, quickly turned around, and left, slamming the door on his way out.
It was the slamming of a door that woke him; Snape took a harsh gasp of air and shot into a sitting position on his bed.
"Damn," Harry swore lightly as he exited Snape's bathroom in the dark. "Um... Snape?"
Snape put his hands over his eyes and tried to will the remnants of that awful dream away, tried to banish to look of disgust in Harry's beautiful eyes, to forget the feeling of absolute pain as he realized that Harry's reaction to Snape's desire for him was not only natural, but expected. Why would a good and handsome young man like Harry react any other way?
Snape had no right to be lusting after Harry; the young man had every reason to hate him. The fact that he did not was only a testament to Harry's own overwhelming mercy and forgiveness.
To take advantage of that would be sacrilege.
"Professor... Are you alright?" Harry asked with concern.
Snape struggled to even his breathing. He rarely had dreams, and when he did they tended to be made up more of images and feelings than actual events. But this dream had been so real. He had felt the warmth of the fire and the softness of Harry's lips. He'd felt that firm young body under his and...
"Incendio," Snape heard, then watched as Harry's face was illuminated by the fire. "Oh."
Oh, indeed. Snape could only imagine how he looked right now.
"Have a nightmare then?"
Nightmare? The word simply didn't cover the horror he was currently attempting to push away from his consciousness. He felt a cold sweat covering his face and he was only barely getting a hold of his breathing. His hands had not shaken in this way for weeks.
Harry was looking at him in open concern and confusion, as though he had no idea how to handle seeing his once dreaded professor after the terror of a nightmare.
Harry did seem determined though, and he sat on Snape's bed and brought his body close to the man, obviously trying to offer comfort with his proximity.
The young man had no idea that his presence actually did the opposite.
Retreating, Snape quickly slid past Harry and put his feet on the floor and into his slippers.
"I'm fine, Potter. Please don't strain that mind of yours on my account; I have no desire to hear the screech of brain cells dying so early in the morning."
Snape sighed as Harry laughed. He vaguely recalled that only a month ago a comment such as the one he just uttered would have brought a glare and a snide remark from the young man sitting next to him.
And now it made him laugh. The thought both warmed his heart and brought a feeling of dread to it.
Groaning, Snape stood up and grabbed the dressing gown from the foot of his bed, putting it on and walking towards the sitting room.
Harry followed him. "Having a good day, then?"
Snape grunted something akin to an affirmative response. He'd been recovering with Harry in the dungeons for almost a month, and the young man had taken to determining his 'good days' and 'bad days.' On a good day Snape would get up in the morning, take his meals in the sitting room with Harry, and spend a good portion of the day brewing in his labs. They'd taken to discussing Occlumency and defense theory since Poppy still hadn't cleared him to actually practice either. Snape really didn't think there was a risk of being thrown around the room while teaching Harry Occlumency but Poppy insisted on waiting until he was stronger and Harry had outright refused to do anything that could set back the Potions Master's recovery.
On 'bad days' Snape still had a bit of difficulty getting around, but thankfully he no longer needed to lean on Harry to walk. How he had hated to admit just how much he had indulged in feeling the smaller body wrap into his own. Snape also needed to sit for longer periods while in his lab, during which times he had to monitor Harry as he prepared the trickier ingredients while Snape used his wand on the more volatile potions.
Thankfully, his bad days were occurring less often, and Snape could feel his strength returning. He would be healed fully by September first, he was sure, and Harry would be leaving him then.
Approaching the chair in the sitting room and watching Harry take his seat on the sofa close by, Snape came to a decision.
Harry had been in his presence nearly constantly for almost a month. Aside from his daily teas with the werewolf, Harry had been with him for the entirety of every day. Snape reveled in the fact that Harry seemed happy to be with him. He felt at times it was as though he had discovered some wonderful treasure and he had covetously hidden it away so no one else could find it, enjoy it, partake in its splendor.
Snape normally had no issue with his own selfishness. He'd been granted few things in this life and nothing could compare with Harry's beauty. But looking at the young man sitting across from him now, he knew it was not right to keep him locked up in the dungeons, even if Harry seemed content here. No, he'd hidden Harry from the rest of the world long enough.
"I believe we will take our breakfast in the Great Hall this morning, Potter."
Snape watched as Harry's face fell and he looked down to his hands; lying in his lap while he playing with his fingers. Snape had long since begun to equate the action with the young man's nervousness and apprehension. But why would Harry feel apprehensive about leaving the dungeons to take breakfast in the place where he'd taken his meals for the past six years?
Surely Harry didn't enjoy his presence so much?
"Oh," was all he said, his head still down. Peaking through the fringe of his hair, he asked, "Why though? I mean... I kind of like eating in here... Don't you?"
Snape had to work to keep his pleasure and surprise from showing on his face. He knew by now that Harry enjoyed his company, but spending time with him and him alone couldn't be good for either of them.
"Yes, Potter, I do, but I believe it is time for us to rejoin the world that is beyond the these rooms. I fear you've forgotten that the outside world even exists. The headmaster must assume that I've chopped you into potions ingredients by now. You really should show that bird's nest of yours in the Great Hall, if only to soothe the old man's fears."
Harry looked up and grinned, though the gesture did not reach his eyes. "Very funny. You know I had tea with the headmaster twice last week. He knows perfectly well that I'm alive and well, thank you."
Snape smirked as Harry continued.
"Really, though, do we have to? I mean, you know what breakfast will be like. It'll be a lot of, 'Oh, how's your progress coming, Severus?' and 'Harry, my boy, so happy to see the two of you getting along finally.' I mean really, do you actually want to put up with that for as long as it takes us to eat our eggs?" Harry leaned back in to the sofa as his grin diminished.
Snape stifled a snort at Harry's rather accurate description of what awaited them in the Great Hall, but would not be deterred. The past month had elapsed in such a distracted blur that for the first time in a very long time the Potions Master had found himself truly enjoying another's presence. And in all fairness to Lily, the depth of emotion he felt for Harry truly did transcend any kind of friendship he'd had in the past. Regardless of the inherent danger in allowing himself to revel so much in the young man's presence, Snape knew that it would be even more dangerous for him to allow Harry to forget that the outside world still existed.
The Dark Lord still lived and was surely plotting something; and after their most recent encounter it was almost certain that he would not trust Snape with this or any other information. His Death Eaters still did his bidding, and the most immediate threat...
Draco still walked free and in broad day light with his unapologetic selfishness and his warped affection toward him. As if any Malfoy could ever truly love anyone... The idea was as absurd as the thoughts of Harry that were currently traipsing through Snape's mind.
Forcing himself away from these dark thoughts, he was reminded that he really did have to get Harry out of the dungeons, if only to break out of this illusion, this fantasy world that they were currently inhabiting. Perhaps a different approach would yield more positive results, Snape thought.
"You are aware, are you not, that your friend the werewolf will most likely be there as well? Perhaps breakfast with the headmaster will be tedious but I can't imagine you not wanting to spend time with Lupin. He will be leaving after the summer, after all."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Remus. I don't want him to go but..."
Snape quashed a sneer and said, "He can't stay, Potter. This is a school, not a base of operations. His presence here this summer is solely for your benefit. He can't stay while school is in session; he's not a professor nor is he a student."
Harry looked up at him, a slight glare in his eyes. It left after a moment and Harry gave a small sigh.
Oh.
Yes, though they'd had discussions on many topics, they'd never addressed that one in particular. In truth, he hadn't thought of how his airing out Lupin's dirty laundry would affect Harry; it had happened years ago and of course hadn't thought he would ever find himself in this situation. The very idea of him being... enamored with the Boy Who Lived would have been laughable. Now it was a painful reality.
Though he hated to see the pain in Harry's eyes, he also refused to settle for this silence. "Say it," Snape ordered, softly but with no small amount of bite. No topic had been off-limits to either of them in these last few weeks and he'd be damned if Harry suddenly shied away from something now; it'd be the worst kind of hypocrisy. Harry had slowly but surely wormed the truth out of him at every turn. He wouldn't settle for anything less from the young man now.
"He'd be a professor if you hadn't told everyone about his being a werewolf," Harry said, bluntly and void of any emotion. Snape blinked at the flat tone of his voice but noticed that Harry's eyes betrayed him in their anger.
"Yes, Potter. He might still be your professor had I not told the truth about his creature status. What of it?"
The strength of Harry's glare increased. "You didn't have to do that! I know you hated him but... I mean, he hasn't been able to find a job since then and-"
"Would you have me put the students at this school at risk simply so your friend can keep a job? Would you take on that responsibility yourself, Potter?" Snape met Harry's glare with one of his own.
Harry raised his voice, just short of yelling at Snape. "There was no risk as long as he took his potion-"
"Precisely," Snape interrupted, putting up a hand at a protesting Harry. "As long as he took his potion he posed no risk to the students. But he didn't take his potion, Potter. He allowed the events of that night to become more important than the lives of the students at this school. And that is inexcusable."
Harry frowned and Snape could see the wheels turning in his head. He could almost see the arguments as they were cycling through Harry's mind. 'Well, it was only that one time. He'd just found out that his best friend was innocent, what was he supposed to do, ignore it? He was only trying to help us, help Sirius. Shouldn't everyone get a second chance?'
Instead of voicing these thoughts, Snape watched as Harry deflated and exhaled a breath audibly.
"Don't tell me that those were the only reasons why you did what you did though, Snape."
Snape gave a soft, dark chuckle and sneered. "Oh, no, Potter. I readily admit that I took a certain amount of joy in informing those in power of Lupin's status. But that doesn't change the facts. Lupin knew that he was a danger to everyone around him but he still allowed himself to forget this and put you and everyone else at this school in danger."
Harry still looked upset but no longer as angry. Slowly, he ran a hand through his black hair and asked softly, "You don't still hate him though, do you? I mean... I know you did then. But... truly?"
Snape was really very tired of being asked this question, but the look on Harry's face drove him to answer. He didn't want the young man thinking that he still hated someone he was close with. "My hatred of him has somewhat dulled over the years, it seems."
Harry gave a small smile at that.
Snape would rather a half-hearted smile grace that face than a sneer, he thought, looking away quickly and rising to his feet.
"Now, if you're finished mulling over memories past, perhaps we can grace the headmaster and Lupin with our presence."
Harry looked towards the door in open dismay but nodded. Though he knew it was unlikely, Snape could have sworn he felt Harry's hand ghost against his own as they stepped over the threshold and out onto the hallway.
***********************
"I told you, didn't I? But no... We just had to have breakfast in the Great Hall," Harry said as the two of them slowly made their descent into the dungeons. "Can't we just take our meals in your rooms from now on? Please?"
Snape knew there was no way Harry could possibly know he would bend over backwards to do anything he asked, but some days he could have sworn the young man had an inkling. There was no way Snape could ignore Harry, try as he might. Snape bent his knees slowly as he walked the narrow stone steps that led down to the dungeons, very aware that Harry had slowed his own pace and was walking almost in front of him, protectively. He cursed his body for at least the twelfth time that week and said, "We'll do nothing of the sort. I am perfectly capable of making the short walk up these stairs and into the Hall three times a day. There is no other reason why we should avoid it."
"No other reason? You mean to tell me you're looking forward to Dumbledore asking you how you're feeling three times in five minutes and Madame Pomfrey piling bacon onto both our plates and Remus trying and failing miserably to hide his laughter behind his tea? 'Cause I'm not, really. Honestly Snape, I see Remus every day for tea and the headmaster calls me up to his office whenever he really needs to talk to me. It's not like you've locked me up in the dungeons or something."
He had a point, Snape thought, but again had the mental image of himself picking up Harry, throwing him over his shoulder and hiding him away in the dungeons forever.
Snape sighed.
"We'll take our breakfast and dinner in the Great Hall with the others. Lunch can be in our rooms, seeing as how we'll most likely be working through it either brewing potions or in our discussions on Occlumency and defense."
There. That was giving Harry what he wanted but would still allow them to make their presence known to the other inhabitants of the castle. It had the added advantage of getting Harry and himself among others for a short while which could only benefit Snape's waning self-control.
Snape almost bumped into Harry as the young man stopped on the stairs and visibly straightened. Snape stopped and looked over Harry, trying to see if there was something impeding their way. When he could find nothing, he began to worry about what had caused such a sudden reaction in the young man.
"Potter?"
Harry took another step down and turned his body to face Snape's. His eyes were wide but his face was blank; he was trying and failing to hide his emotions but Snape could easily see he was upset.
"Our rooms?"
Oh.
*Oh.*
Snape blanched as he recalled what he had unwittingly let slip and had to fight the desire to close his eyes and shake his head at his own foolishness. His control where Harry was concerned was diminishing as days went by. For a moment he thought to deny what he had said but instead he forced an eye-roll and walked around Harry, trying to make light of the situation.
"It's isn't as if you haven't made yourself perfectly comfortable in my home, Potter. You seem to forcibly invade any area you choose and slowly take it over- like some sort of virus. It's no surprise you have done the same to my quarters." Snape walked by slowly, subconsciously holding his breath until he heard Harry resume walking behind him.
"Yeah," was all Harry said in response.
Snape couldn't explain why he had said what he had. He only knew that Harry was getting much too close now. Whatever he felt for the young man was too all-consuming. He'd hardly ever dreamed and yet Harry seemed to take over both his waking and sleeping thoughts. The young man was penetrating every part of his life, every fibre of his being. And just as Snape had feared, he had no power to stop it.
They walked in silence until they reached the door that led to his private lab. Snape opened the door and walked over to sit behind his desk while Harry leaned against the table closest to it, awaiting their agenda for the day.
These movements were practiced and familiar to both of them, having quickly settled into a routine that changed little from day to day. Since they could not yet practice defense or Occlumency, they settled for potion-making and discussing either topic when there were lulls in the brewing process. It was comfortable and familiar in ways that Snape had never known. He'd never had the opportunity to acquire a lab assistant or apprentice and doubted he would have enjoyed the experience in the least.
Though Harry was by no means excellent at potions his skill had improved, and the young man's presence brought a light to his labs that had been absent before. Snape also found that he actually enjoyed discussing defense with Harry. The young man had always done well with the discipline, and Snape found that he had an excellent grasp of the subject matter and asked thought provoking questions.
Occlumency was not as easy to discuss, but Snape had pressed on all the same. The more Harry could absorb now, when there were no actual casting involved, the easier it would be for him to pick up the art once Snape was better able to cast spells.
That did not mean he was looking forward to it, however. Snape knew that Harry was not adept at mind magic, and though he had come up with several different teaching strategies he doubted Harry would become a stellar student overnight- or without some revisiting of their former adversarial relationship. Knowing this, Snape had already decided to enjoy the peaceful routine potion-brewing allowed while it lasted.
"We're going to continue with cooling potions today, Potter."
Harry sighed and then nodded, and Snape quirked an eyebrow in question.
Harry looked slightly embarrassed at having been caught acting like a bored child. "Oh, nothing, just... We've been doing those for days now. Any chance of doing something different?" Harry rubbed at some nonexistent dirt with the toe of his shoe and fidgeted a bit. Moments like these betrayed the young man's obvious youth though otherwise he conducted himself with a maturity greater than his years.
The question Harry had asked was interesting though. He had assumed from Harry's attitude that he had been enjoying their brewing; that he was growing bored already and desired a greater challenge was promising.
Snape scoffed and looked down at the list of potions he needed to brew for the Order. He'd been slowly restocking his personal store of healing and cooling potions, having used the strongest during his convalescence. They'd started with the less complicated ones but he supposed it would do no harm to skip ahead a bit.
"Very well, Potter. After that debacle in the Great Hall this morning I find myself nearly overcome with the desire to see you handling a more volatile potion." Snape could tell that his ominous words had not had the desired effect when Harry smothered a grin and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "In fact, the very idea of seeing you doused in billywig corpses threatens to bring a smile to my face."
Harry laughed, then stopped at Snape's straight face. Snape raised an eyebrow and waited.
Harry's face paled a bit and the smile left his mouth. "Oh. Er... Billywig corpses then? Don't we usually just use the stingers?"
Snape nodded at Harry's recollection. "Yes, we normally do but the stronger healing potions require the live insect in its entirety. I have the stingers that I require here but you will need to go to Hagrid's hut to retrieve a few live ones that will be necessary for the potion. I'm not entirely sure where he keeps them but I know he has a colony somewhere for this purpose."
Harry blanched at Snape's words. Oh, yes, Snape thought; he had yet to use live ingredients in his potions. The young man in front of him looked suddenly less enthusiastic. He could see the moment in which Harry considered asking if they could just go back to the same potions they'd been brewing day after day before Harry nodded and seemed to accept his fate.
It was a practiced move, Snape thought.
"Alright then. Hagrid's not here so where by his hut would I find billywigs?" Harry asked, trying very hard to appear as though he tossed live insects into a cauldron on a daily basis and wasn't at all disturbed by the thought.
"That I would not know, Potter. I know only that I'm going to start on the base of this potion and you need to be back here with five live billywigs within half an hour." Snape handed Harry a little paper box from one of the drawers in his desk and turned his back on the younger man. With that Snape walked around the tables and started summoning cauldrons, all too aware of Harry's stare on his back.
"The clock is ticking, Potter."
With that Harry laughed and walked out of the lab.
************************
Harry arrived twenty five minutes later in a rush. He slammed the door behind him and walked up to Snape, his face flushed and very much out of breath. He pulled out the little box, which Snape opened to inspect the specimens. He looked quickly, not wanting to allow the flying insects to escape, but even this cursory examination revealed one that seemed to be slightly crushed.
"What is this, Potter?"
Harry shifted on his feet and said with a surprising lack of confidence, "Um, that, Professor, would be five live billywigs."
"Potter, I believe I know the difference between dead and alive. It comes in handy in my line of work, I assure you, and this billywig," Snape picked up the slightly mangled corpse of the little blue insect and said, "is most certainly dead."
Snape watched as Harry's face paled and he shifted from one foot to the next. Then suddenly a small, almost undetectable grin graced Harry's features. It appeared more in his eyes than on his mouth but as Snape had been watching both, he'd caught it.
He was unprepared when Harry said, "No, no he's, ah.... he's resting."
Snape cocked an eyebrow at words that seemed so familiar to him and looked down at the billywig in his hands. He prodded it a bit with his wand and mentally declared it to be most certainly dead when he suddenly recalled where he'd heard Harry's words before.
Oh, surely not.
"Resting, is he?" Snape asked.
"Yeah, he's resting. Remarkable insect, the billywig. Wonderful stingers!" Harry said, almost joyfully but with a look of great hesitation on his face.
Snape stifled a laugh. He could hardly believe the conversation he was now engaged in but trudged along all the same, eager to see how far this would go.
"The stingers don't enter into it. It's stone-dead, Potter!"
Harry's eyes lit up at Snape's response. "No, no, he's resting!"
"All right then, if he's resting, I'll wake him up." With that Snape cupped his hand around the dead billywig and called into his hand, "Hello, Mr. Billywig! I've some lovely blades of grass for you if you wake up, Mr. Billywig."
Harry stretched out his hand and flicked the dead billywig in Snape's palm with his finger. "There, he moved!"
"No, he didn't. That was you pushing him!" Snape said, with feigned indignation.
"I never!" Harry said, his face red with the effort of withholding his laughter.
"Yes, you did, I just saw you!"
"No, I never..."
"Hello, Billywig! Wake up, Mr. Billywig!" Snape cried through his fingers as he began to shake poor creatures in his cupped hand.
"Now that is what I call a dead billywig," Snape said with an amused smirk.
"No, he's stunned... You... you stunned him," Harry was now openly laughing, his arms gripped around his stomach, trying to keep himself standing. His breath was coming out in pants and Snape could barely make out what he was saying.
"Look, Potter. the only reason this billywig isn't falling to the floor is because I'm holding him."
"Well, of course you're holding him, Snape. If you weren't, he'd just..." Harry tried to make a motion with his hands to indicate a sharp flying movement but failed when he started laughing again.
"Look, Potter, this billywig wouldn't take off if you put four thousand volts through it. It's woefully demised!"
"No, Snape...." Harry was gasping for air now. "It's pining."
Snape lifted an eyebrow and went in for the kill. "It's not pining, it's passed on. This billywig is no more. It has ceased to be! It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late billywig. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If I hadn't taken it into my hand he would be pushing up the daises! Its metabolical processes are of interest only to historians! It's hopped the twig. It's shuffled off this mortal coil. It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! This... is an ex-billywig!"
Harry was red in the face and had long ago been rendered incapable of forming a word let alone a coherent sentence through his laughter. Seeing that it was relatively unlikely that Harry would notice his own laughter, Snape smiled and let loose the low chuckle he'd been holding in for the past few minutes.
Harry immediately looked up and stopped laughing so hysterically. He hiccupped a bit and laughed sporadically as he said, "You should laugh more often, Snape. It suits you." There was still amusement in Harry's eyes, but his laughter had stopped. Harry's face suddenly took on a quality that was difficult for Snape to label, but if pressed he'd call it awed. Awed at what exactly, he had no idea.
"I like your laugh," Harry said and with that he leaned over the table that separated them and stretched out his hand toward Snape's upturned lips.
Snape immediately ceased his chuckling as his heart beat went through the roof. He had to intently restrain himself from opening his mouth and feeling Harry's thumb with the tip of his tongue. The threat of the caress of that calloused digit on his lips was unexpected, and neither was it completely welcome. Snape mentally sighed, partly in relief and partly with another emotion he sought to deny, when a slight frown creased Harry's mouth as he pulled his hand away.
Little touches like the ones Harry had been prone to give him lately were something he'd never experienced in his life. He'd had his share of partners but never a lover who had touched him like that. If pressed, Snape would be forced to say no one had ever touched him the way Harry did.
Had the young man any idea of what he was doing?
Harry frowned and glanced at his hand before putting it down by his side again, his laughter now having completely died down. The young man looked confused by his own actions but not disturbed. Whatever he was thinking it was clear that Harry had no idea of the torment he was putting Snape through.
It was all Snape could do not to run his tongue over the places Harry's finger had nearly grazed, the ghost of that phantom touch still burning him.
He walked over to the cauldron that held the base of the healing potion they would have brewed had Harry brought the proper ingredients. He deliberately didn't look at the young man, giving them both a moment to clear their heads. "Well, this is useless," Snape said and cast evanesco, to clear the cauldrons of the liquid they had previously contained.
Harry cleared his throat and said, "Er, I am sorry about the billywigs. I dropped the box on my way back into the castle and by then it had already been twenty minutes. There was no way I could have gone back and still made it in time." Harry ran a hand through his hair and said sheepishly, "I actually kind of hoped that the crushed one would hang on just long enough for him to be dropped in the cauldron. Stupid, that."
"Yes, I imagine it's not in the norm for you to wish for small insects to hold onto life simply so you may drop them into a boiling cauldron later." Snape gathered the rest of the ingredients and put them away.
Harry followed him over the storeroom. He put a hand on Snape's back and asked, "And by the way, how the hell do you have that entire Monty Python Pet Shop sketch memorized?"
Snape scoffed and turned around to address Harry, suddenly realizing how very close they were standing to each other. "You do realize that my father was a muggle, do you not, Potter?" Harry nodded but still seemed a bit confused. "I believe I've seen every episode of that program at least half a dozen times. The possibility does not exist that one can live in muggle England and not learn Monty Python by heart. The scripts are passed into the fetus subconsciously along with everything else it needs to thrive. You, obviously, are another example of this."
Harry laughed and ran a hand down Snape's back as they moved to exit the storeroom. Snape could swear he could feel where Harry had touched him far after the hand had been removed.
***********************
By the end of July, two weeks after the billywig incident, Snape felt he was finally ready to begin instructing Harry in the practical aspect of defense and Occlumency, instead of just the theory they'd been discussing for some time now. As much as discussing theory had helped, Snape knew that Harry had to begin training, especially in Occlumency. Of course, as his luck usually ran on the day that he had finally decided to put a lesson plan into action his body decided to rebel against him once more.
"Do you think you'll feel up for a walk today?" Harry asked, turning to Snape on the couch and nudging his knee with his own. If Harry continually took to sitting right next to him on the sofa, instead of on the opposite side as people were normally apt to do, Snape wasn't about to mention it. Though he knew it ill-advised, he continued to adore Harry's little grazes more than he wanted to admit.
"Do I appear to be dying, Potter? Because that is the only reason why I would cease my daily excursions. You do not have to join me if you do not wish to. I'm sure that wolf friend of yours would enjoy seeing you for longer than an hour or two a day."
Harry smiled as Snape had come to expect him to whenever he made a disparaging remark. "Maybe, but remember at breakfast Remus said he had Order business and that he might be late. Besides, I like spending time with him, but... No, I like taking those walks with you." Harry smiled and met Snape's gaze dead-on, black eyes meeting green. There was no shyness, no hesitation in Harry's countenance. Why would there be, Snape asked himself. It wasn't as if Harry's thoughts for him were plagued by perversions.
"Well, your tastes always did leave something to be desired, Potter. If you're willing-"
But Snape was unable to finish his sentence as suddenly a bright silvery object came bursting through his quarters and ran up to Harry. Both men had their wands out instantly, but lowered them at the same time as they realized what the silvery object was.
"I'll have to change my wards to not allow wolves or wolf-like entities, I suppose, if they are going to come traipsing through my dungeons in this manner," Snape said in a droll tone.
The wolf patronus opened its mouth and spoke. "Harry, would you like to meet me for tea an hour later than usual?"
Harry watched as the silvery wolf faded away. Turning to Snape, he said, "Why didn't he just fire-call?"
Snape rolled his eyes and deadpanned, "He obviously knows you well enough to realize your attentions can only be held by shiny objects, Potter."
Harry laughed and said, "Very funny. No, really. I've seen him use his patronus a few times in the last month but it was always in an emergency." Harry looked down, his eyes unfocussed as his mind wandered over what Snape was sure were not warm memories.
In an effort to save Harry from himself once again, he quickly interrupted whatever train of thought was currently going through the Gryffindor's head. "No doubt he wants to see if you can respond. Casting the patronus charm is challenge for most wizards but once that skill has been acquired learning how to send messages is no difficult task."
Snape stood up and motioned for Harry to do the same. This might not have been what he had intended to teach Harry, but it was a lesson and for that, Snape was glad. These weeks spent in the dungeons had been far too relaxing, far too comfortable for both himself and Harry. While he silently rejoiced at witnessing Harry thrive in his presence, he also realized that the young man was far too relaxed and still far too removed from what was going on outside of the castle's wards. They needed to stop acting as if there was nothing to hide from and begin preparing for what was coming. As much as he hated to destroy that comfortable air that surrounded Harry these days, he would have to do so if only to save the young man from himself.
Both had their wands in hand when Snape said, "You know, of course, that in order to create a corporeal patronus, one must think of a very happy memory; allow it to fill you up and penetrate your senses."
Harry nodded.
Snape continued. "Well, having your patronus carry a message requires all of that to be done almost in your subconscious mind. You have to allow the thought to fill you from the inside out so completely that you no longer concentrate so much on the memory, but more the feeling of the memory. That in turn allows you to fabricate a message in your mind, which you then speak and which will in turn be spoken through the patronus."
Snape stood back a bit from the sofa and chairs. "Observe," he said quietly.
It was no great difficulty casting the patronus charm. When Snape had initially learned it, he thought it would be tremendously hard to come up with a happy memory strong enough to perform it. And it had been very difficult, at first. How could it not be when his only happy memories were so sullied? However, over the years he had perfected his ability to concentrate only on the good of the memory and not the bittersweet taint that surrounded it.
He always picked the same memory. It was of Lily and himself at a park in their youth, swinging on a swing set near their homes. He went back to that thought now but found it difficult to concentrate on the familiar memory of Lily's red hair swaying in the wind, of her bubbling laughter as she flew through the air. Instead all he could see was Harry looking at him expectantly. Suddenly, the memory grew dim and no longer filled the forefront of his mind. Harry was looking at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.
Grumbling at himself for taking so long with Harry standing right in front of him, he closed his eyes to avoid the young man's expectant stare as well as the memories this particular person brought to his consciousness.
Snape closed his eyes, but again all he could see was Harry. Harry's green eyes, Harry's slim form but broad shoulders. Harry's hands touching his, Harry's knee nudging his with their accursed familiarity...
Realizing this was taking far too long, Snape consciously cleared his mind as though he were in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. Concentrating as hard as he could on the memory of Lily, Snape formulated a sentence in his head, opened his eyes and said, 'Expecto Patronum.'
The white mist that came out of his wand was immediately sneered at as if it had perpetuated some great wrong upon him.
He couldn't believe it. He hadn't had this problem since his youth. And how incredibly embarrassing that this would happen right in front of Harry!
Oh, yes, Harry, Snape thought turning his glare from the offensive white mist to the young man standing in front of him...
Who was looking at him with a great deal of sympathy. Oh, gods. He could have handled Harry mocking him far better than he could stomach Harry acting like he was some incompetent. Or worse, some thrice damned emotional cripple incapable of finding one good memory. And of course, it did not help that the young man in front of him had been capable of casting this particular charm at the age of thirteen.
Harry looked down to the floor and ran a hand through his hair. In a very quiet voice, he said, "I bet it's really hard for you to think up a good memory. I mean, it's understandable that-" Harry was cut off by Snape, who nearly roared in his anger.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth this instant, Potter!" Snape's fury at this was quick, and he watched as Harry looked up and frowned as he took a step back from the all too familiar Professor Snape.
Seeing that he had upset the young man, Snape immediately pulled his anger back. It wasn't Harry's fault that his very presence was so distracting to the Potions Master. No, the fault lay solely on him and his wretched desires. Snape hated the look Harry was giving him now, like he was hurt and unsure of who exactly was standing in front of him. Was he the man Harry had been living with for over a month or the misanthrope of the dungeons?
Snape sighed and took a step back as well, trying to give Harry some space. In a much softer voice he said, "I am perfectly capable of casting that charm, Potter." Snape quickly went over a myriad of excuses in his head that were better than 'your beauty and quiet strength are simply an insurmountable distraction that I am faced with upon every breath I take.' But he had no desire to be maudlin with the young man, nor did he wish to lie to him outright. Remembering the person in front of him, he aimed for levity. With a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic tone he continued, "Your presence here is merely so distracting that I find it impossible to concentrate on a good memory. If I allowed myself to become distracted for even a second I'm certain you'd choose that moment to go traipsing off on some adventure involving trolls and giants. Truly, Potter, you are a menace."
Harry obviously realized that Snape was trying to make light of an embarrassing situation. Perhaps the boy had more than half a brain after all. His frown disappeared as he took in the Potions Master's words and he smiled. "Trolls and giants?"
Snape face was straight as he deadpanned, "Indeed."
The Potions Master saw the instant that the young man decided to forgive Snape's transgression and play along. Harry seemed to try to quash his smile but was unsuccessful. "Well, if you're not capable of casting a Patronus in my presence I'll just have to protect you myself, won't I?"
Snape rolled his eyes and scoffed as he started to walk towards the door that led out of his rooms. "Yes, Potter, I'm so very fortunate to have an in-house savior."
Harry followed him out of the hall, laughing and light on his feet as he continued his playful tirade. "Hey, it's a good thing I'm here, Snape. You never know when you're going to need a hero."
********************
"Thank you for coming back so quickly, Remus." Dumbledore stood up from his desk as Remus walked into the room. "Were you able to speak with the man?"
Remus sat down in his usual chair, not at all surprised at the lack of the usual offering of tea and biscuits. This was hardly a friendly visit.
He nodded. "I'm glad Kingsley was assigned to that case. He handled the obliviation personally, or rather, he personally failed to administer it." Remus adjusted his back in his seat and looked over Dumbledore's desk, struggling for the right words to describe the state the man had been in before Kingsley had performed a calming charm.
"There's no doubt in my mind that Death Eaters attacked that neighborhood. But what I've been trying to determine for the last few hours is why, Albus." Remus issued a frustrated sigh as he wracked his brain again for an answer that was not forthcoming. "It was a muggle neighborhood. Kingsley said there are no wizards living in the area nor relatives of wizards, as far as they could tell. It just looks like some random attack. And I don't understand why Voldemort wouldn't have been more careful. Even he would suffer if the muggles found out about us."
Dumbledore's eyes grew darker as he leaned back in his chair, his hand reaching out along his desk, fingers grazing the chessboard with its black and white pieces that Remus had grown to despise. Remus resigned himself to waiting for the headmaster to take in the information he'd just given him. His eyes wandered around the room a bit; his gaze coming to rest on Fawkes, lightly trilling in his cage, and the shelves of odd looking instruments and books.
He redirected his gaze to the headmaster's desk and the documents that were scattered in chaos across it, piled on top of large tomes and parchment. Remus let his mind wander as his eyes landed on a familiar looking book that lay on Dumbledore's desk.
Darkest Bonds. The reason Harry was currently calling the dungeons home.
Remus was contemplating how odd that fact was once again when Dumbledore's voice commanded his attention.
"Why doesn't factor into it, Remus. These are not the actions of a general, they're the meandering whims of a madman who sends his soldiers to slaughter without any thought to the consequences." Dumbledore was looking past Remus as he continued, "You cannot look at a mass-murderer and try to fathom his reasons." The headmaster seemed to realize he was talking to himself and looked up at Remus, a smile that did not reach his eyes again gracing his aging features.
"Thank you for bringing me this information, Remus. We still have no idea what Voldemort is planning but he reveals something in every attack; even if it's nothing but his own madness." The headmaster sat up straight in his chair and called for tea, pouring himself and the other man a cup.
"You know, I'm so very glad that you decided to stay at Hogwarts this summer. I think it's benefited Harry greatly. His attitude has improved significantly this summer." Dumbledore added some milk to his cup and leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face.
The subject change should have been abrupt and off-putting to another man but after dealing with the eccentric wizard for several years, he was used to the mental jumps the man made.
Remus nodded and smiled as he always did while taking tea with the headmaster. Of course, all of Albus' teas were really excuses for something else entirely, and this session had been no different. The last time Remus had been invited to tea he'd spent a half hour dancing around the subject of Harry. How Harry was, how he was coping living in the dungeons. Did Harry seem to be faring better than before he had gone to live in Severus' quarters?
And in all honesty, Remus had answered yes. Yes, Harry seemed to be in very good spirits. Yes, Harry seemed to be getting along very well with Severus if his daily teas with Remus were any indication. More often than not the young man was still smiling as he walked into his rooms.
Remus had always expected that Severus would be a good man to get to know, if only he would let anyone do so. He was very pleased though a bit confused that Harry had managed to worm his way into the man's life. He knew from experience how much Severus enjoyed his privacy.
Truth be told, everyone knew that Severus was now more than capable of getting around on his own. He hardly needed assistance even in his lab these days, if what Harry said in their daily visits was true. And yet no one had asked if Harry wanted his own rooms now, and no one had asked Severus if he wanted his life back. Both men seemed to be very content in their current situation.
And that confused Remus greatly.
Of course, he could understand Harry's desire for a friend. He knew that Ron's death had left Harry with a gaping hole in his heart that even he couldn't fill. But he had honestly expected Harry to be corresponding with Hermione rather than talking with Severus. And yet that was not what had occurred. More confusing was that they seemed to be together all the time. After interrupting them in the lab nearly month ago, Remus had learned that the two of them had a certain chemistry to their relationship that could neither be explained nor understood.
Needless to say, Remus had not gone barging in on their conversations again. He had no desire to judge Harry's choice of friends, and had oddly enough been left feeling like a third wheel, which was a feeling he had no desire to revisit. He was comfortable enough with either his old schoolmate or Harry on their own, but being with the two of them together that day had been odd in the extreme. He had no problem fire-calling Harry or sending a message to him asking for time to nurture their own friendship. He was very glad to be able to get to know Harry again, and was glad to see him doing so well, especially after such a tragedy.
The fact that Severus Snape had inspired this in Harry was not lost on him. Nor was the oddness of that fact.
Conscious of the fact that his mind was wandering he addressed the headmaster. "Yes, and thank you for allowing me to stay here, Albus. I'm very glad that I've been able to spend some time with Harry this summer, especially after such an awful year."
The headmaster nodded and got to his feet to see Remus out. "Yes, I'm only sorry that we were not able to spare him the hardship that last year has brought him. But he has you here now, and it seems he and Severus are getting along splendidly. I have no doubt that Harry will be able to handle whatever challenges the coming year brings well enough."
Remus smiled and walked out of the office. He was glad that the meeting with Albus hadn't run too long otherwise he'd have been even later for his meeting with Harry. He had hoped that the young man would have responded with a patronus of his own, but he supposed no one had gotten around to teaching him yet.
He began to walk down to the hallway that led to his rooms when suddenly he heard voices. Two voices to be exact, though he could hear one quite better than the other. Though he knew automatically who the voices must have belonged to, he still didn't believe it could be Severus and Harry. He hadn't spent much time with both of them, but he still was surprised to hear the two voices...
Were they flirting?
Remus instinctively backed up into the wall, found a suit of armor to hide himself behind, and listened as the voices grew closer.
Remus watched as Harry came into view. He was walking backwards and he had his wand out, brandishing it like it was some kind of sword. The hallway was large and empty so all Remus could hear was an echo as Harry spoke, rather than the actual words the young man was saying. Harry spun around from his backwards position and walked around his old school mate, his feet crossing the other in what appeared to be a practiced move, almost dancing around Severus. His face was brightly lit with a warm smile as he waved his wand in the air against some unseen adversary.
Remus quirked an eyebrow at Harry's overly friendly behavior toward the Potions Master but aside from his being a bit too familiar with the other man, he could find nothing unusual in his actions.
No, it was Severus' actions that a man less familiar with him would instantly brush off that made Remus rethink everything he had ever thought he knew about the man.
Severus was hardly saying a word to the still playful Harry, and Remus supposed he had used up his sarcastic comments when the two had been out of sight. But it wasn't so much the look on Severus' face that shocked him. He could see a slight smile grace the thin lips, but nothing too revealing. No, what made him marvel wasn't Severus' lack of snark or his almost pleased countenance.
It was his eyes. He'd never seen Severus look at another human being the way he was looking at Harry. Having known the Potions Master off and on for over twenty years, Remus had learned that though Severus was not a bad man, neither was he a warm one. Remus suspected Severus hadn't had a real friend since before Lily's death. Remus was well-used to the cold look that had inhabited Severus' eyes since their fifth year at Hogwarts, and the cruel nature that had gone along with it. But even thinking back to those early years, when Severus had been very close to Lily, he couldn't remember him ever looking at anyone this way before.
Severus had the look of a man who was completely in love. He was looking at Harry as though he was his entire world, as though the sun rose and set just for him.
No. Impossible.
Stunned, he watched as Severus smiled broadly the moment Harry was out of eyeshot and this time the look was immistakeable. Though he had never seen Severus look that way, he knew what a man in love looked like. The warmth in those dark eyes, the smile that was too genuine for even a spy to fake, the ease with which he walked by Harry's side.
Remus watched as Harry ceased circling the Potions Master and took his place on the man's right. They walked closely together, side by side, and as Remus watched they walked away, Harry's arm grazing Severus'.
********************
Snape was relieved to be back in his sitting room and demonstrated such by sitting down on the sofa as soon as he was able.
It came as no surprise when Harry sat next to him.
"I can relax now, right? This is a Dementor-free zone?" Harry said with look of mock seriousness on his face.
Snape lifted an eyebrow and suppressed a smile. He really had allowed Harry far too many disparaging comments on his person on their daily walk around the castle, but the young man had seemed too happy to be poking fun with his once most hated professor that he couldn't find the heart to shut him up.
At the time.
"I believe I've allowed you enough enjoyment at my expense for an entire year, Potter. You've still a bit of time before you're expected at Lupin's and I want you to learn how to cast a messenger patronus properly. On your feet."
Harry smirked but did as he was told. The young man took his wand out and awaited instruction, all traces of humor gone from his face. At least he knows when the time for distraction is over, Snape thought to himself.
"Now, as I said before. Think about your happiest memory, allow it to fill you up, then think the words you'd like Lupin to hear and say them aloud after you cast the spell."
"How will we know if it's worked properly?" Harry asked, planting his feet a bit farther apart from each other.
"Well, Potter, if your patronus goes running around the room looking for dementors that aren't there we'll finally have proof that there really isn't a brain in that head of yours. If, on the other hand, it gallops out the door then we'll know you've succeeded."
"Alright, then," Harry said and took a step back from the sofa. He seemed to concentrate for a moment before casting, "Expecto Patronum." The silver stag errupted from his wand lighting up the dungeons. "Tea sounds great, Remus. I'll be there shortly."
But the stag simply walked around the room a bit before fading into nothingness.
Harry frowned.
Snape regretted his harsh words a bit. He'd never known of a person who successfully cast a message on their first try. He tried to be reassuring. "Very good for a first try, Potter, but you need to concentrate more."
"I am concentrating. I don't know what went wrong," Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair.
Snape stood up, still a bit shaky from that long walk. "Don't be sullen. It's rare for someone to succeed on their first try. Now, I want you to concentrate this time but not only on the memory, but also on the words."
Snape took a step back from the sofa as did Harry and raised his wand again.
Again, he thought of Lily but continued to be distracted by Harry's presence. Snape growled to himself and thought that he would not embarrass himself again. He knew now that there was no way he could rid Harry from his mind. The young man selfishly commanded his attention in his every waking moment.
Not only my waking moments, thought Snape. And suddenly it came to him. Perhaps it was impossible to get Harry out of his head but he could still find one happy memory.
Snape thought of the memory of his dream from several nights ago. Of that one moment before everything had gone wrong. That one beautiful moment when it had seemed as though Harry was his and he could have everything that the young man had to offer.
He concentrated on how real those lips had felt and how lovely it had been to have that firm body under his. Only that moment, that one second in time when everything had seemed perfect.
"Expecto Patronum," Snape cast, and he watched as a silver entity went galloping out of his wand.
Both men stopped at the sight of the misty doe standing in the middle of Snape's sitting room, awaiting her orders.
Snape stood in shock for just a moment before saying, "You can expect Potter's loathsome presence shortly, Lupin."
The doe took off at a gallop, leaving the room and heading to wherever Lupin was at the moment.
Harry frowned, taking in the scene that had just played out before him. Snape watched as Harry paused and took a shaky breath before he asked his question.
"You patronus is a doe?" he asked quietly.
Snape nodded. Yes, apparently it was.
Harry put his head down and did not meet Snape's eyes. "Oh. Um... You know that my dad... He was..." Harry stuttered as he was wont to do when nervous but for once Snape didn't stop him from blabbering. "Is... um... Was my mum's patronus a doe?"
Again, Snape nodded. Realizing Harry was still not looking at him, he added, "Yes, it was."
Harry finally looked up, a look of cautious sadness on his face. "Oh," was all he could say for a moment. The young man looked down again and addressed his shoes. "We never really talk about it but... You really did love her, didn't you?"
Nodding seemed to be the only way he could easily communicate just now. He forced himself to say, "She was my best friend, Potter."
Harry nodded but said nothing to this, the silence stretching between them.
"Um, well I guess we can finish this later, can't we? I think I'll go join Remus for tea." Harry looked up and gave him a sad smile before turning and walking out the door.
Snape sat down on the couch, barely noticing when Harry left the room.
It might not have been the best idea to send that patronus to Lupin, he thought, but really he'd find out soon enough, the wolf being a member of the Order and all.
Snape took his wand in his hands and again cast the patronus charm, watching as the silvery doe came charging out to meet him again. This time he didn't order it away, choosing instead to run a hand through its silvery mist.
Deceptive, clandestine, cunning: these were all words that Snape had used to describe himself over the years, and even more so when he returned to Dumbledore's service as a spy. He'd always prided himself on being true to himself, however; of always knowing his own mind even when the truth of the matter was something lesser men would have hidden from. He really shouldn't have been so surprised therefore to see that his patronus had changed to compliment Harry's.
The doe seemed to be a bit stronger than his raven had ever been. Apparently all his denial had been for naught, for he was now staring proof in the face that he was completely, hopelessly in love with Harry Potter.
*************************
Remus Lupin was startled when a silvery doe charged into his room. It was not the sight of the patronus itself that startled him, he had been expecting either Harry's stag or Severus' raven to come charging in at any moment now. But he knew the form of the patronus of every person presently in this castle and a doe was not one of them.
He was therefore shocked to hear Severus' voice come out of the doe's mouth.
Listening to the message and realizing Harry was probably already on his way, Remus forced his mind to slow down and concentrate on the conversation he was about to have.
If there had been any doubt in his mind about his old school mate's affections for Harry, they were gone now. A patronus didn't change due to some passing fling, nor was it adapted for a close friend.
No, only a great emotional change could alter the appearance of one's patronus. Remus knew that Severus' had always been a raven; he could still recall Sirius mocking him by calling it a crow even now. But it had obviously changed to reflect Harry's own.
He had no idea how he was going to have this conversation with Harry. Really, he thought, he had no right. He was Harry's friend, not his father. Truth be told, he had no desire to fill that role for the young man. If there was any familial feeling between them it was fraternal more than anything else, for which Remus was glad. The time when Harry had needed a father figure had long since passed. His young friend hadn't truly been a child for some time.
Well, he was Harry's friend, that much was certain. Friends looked out for each other; surely that gave him the right to ask the questions he needed to ask.
A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. Remus rose from the straight-backed chair sitting in front of the fire and went to open the door only to find a very solemn-looking Harry standing on the threshold.
"Harry?" Remus greeted him in an inquisitive tone. "Come in. Are you alright?" Remus opened the door wider and stepped back to let his friend in.
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Snape." Harry walked past Remus into his room, head still slightly bowed and face sullen. "You got his patronus?" When Remus nodded, Harry continued, "Did you know about it?"
Remus blanched and sat down in his chair, gesturing for Harry to do the same in the one opposite him. He prepared himself for the answer to the question he knew he had to ask. "Yes, I did. What about that upset you?"
Harry looked up at Remus and said softy, "Well, he had told me that was friends with my mother." Harry paused and looked up at Remus, a look of slight hesitation in his eyes. "But, you knew about that, right? It's not like it was some big secret, was it?"
Remus shook his head. "No, I knew they were friends when we were in school. They were together all the time... Until after our OWLS."
Harry stiffened and put his face in his hands, his elbows meeting his knees. "Yeah," Harry sighed. "That."
Remus was at a loss as to why exactly Harry was upset and was bringing Lily into the conversation. When Harry had mentioned Severus' patronus, he'd thought that the young man would have put two and two together by now. He didn't expect Harry to be angry with Severus but he guessed there might have been some awkwardness there. "Harry, what does your mother have to do with Severus' patronus and why does it have you so upset?"
Harry sat up straight and looked Remus straight in the eye. "I don't know. I mean... I knew that he loved her. He told me that she was his best friend. I know he didn't really have any other friends, unless you count the headmaster... Or you, and, well, no offense Remus, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't."
Remus smiled a bit and conceded the point.
"I've been with him while he recovered all summer long." Harry gazed sadly at Remus, almost looking past him. "I would have known if a friend had visited him or if he'd received a letter but... Nothing. All this time. I mean, I knew it before, but seeing that his patronus is a doe just like hers... It just kind of forced me to really realize it, you know?" Harry sighed again and looked at the fire. "I didn't want to ask him but... I wanted to know. You and Sirius were always talking about how great a guy my dad was and how you were such great friends. I had kind of forgotten that Snape was her friend. That he still misses her even after all this time."
Remus blinked.
Oh, gods.
Had Severus allowed Harry to believe that his patronus was a doe because of his love for Lily?
"Harry..." Remus tried, but in truth he had no idea how to start this conversation. Harry looked up at him, sadness etched onto his face.
Remus ran a hand over his face and sighed. He looked up at Harry again, and now confusion marred the young man's features. He could think of nothing to say but, "What exactly do you feel for Severus?"
Harry's confusion increased for a moment before a look of annoyance played over his features. Harry leaned his head down and sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration.
Harsh green eyes peered up at him through black fringe. "You know, Remus, I didn't think I'd have to defend myself to you, of all people."
"What?" Remus asked aloud, not understanding Harry's outburst.
"Do you really think that after all he's done for me, after all we've shared, that I'd hurt him? That I'd what... Just abandon him or something? Stop being his friend? I mean, do you really think I'd do something like that? Leave him alone, with Malfoy still out there?"
Remus put up a hand to halt the argument Harry was having with himself. "No, no, Harry, you misunderstand me. I didn't mean anything like that. I know you; you would never hurt Severus or anyone you cared for." Remus paused a moment and then said slowly, "And, you do care for Severus, don't you?"
"Of course I care for him. He's my friend. Do you really think that after saving my life and my ... sanity and letting me stay with him all this time-"
"Harry!" Remus shouted this time, unwilling to let this conversation unravel farther. "No, Harry I don't think that at all. Let me rephrase my question, please."
Harry nodded but still seemed to be on his guard.
"Severus is usually a very cold man. Surely you can agree that normally he isn't the warmest individual?" Remus tried to reason with the young man, who seemed inordinately upset on Severus' behalf. When the young man nodded he continued, "He hasn't done anything... odd to you, or made you feel uncomfortable, has he?"
If Harry had been annoyed before he was enraged now. He stood up from his chair and shouted at the man, "Merlin, Remus! You know, everyone thinks that Snape's the hateful one, the one who truly loathes you even after all these years but that's not true is it? You know I asked him a few weeks ago how he truly felt about you and he doesn't hate you. How can you hate him? I mean, yeah, I know that he got you kicked out of Hogwarts and I'd be pretty angry if I were you too, but-"
Remus stood up and put his hands on Harry's shoulders in an attempt to calm the young man. "Harry, please, no. I don't hate Severus and I certainly don't blame him for my... current unemployment. I wasn't angry with him then and I'm not angry with him now. I just wanted..."
But really Remus understood why Harry was reacting this way. He had been trying to skirt the issue instead of asking Harry directly if he had romantic feelings for Severus, but clearly the young man's thoughts weren't in even the vicinity. Severus had been right in the infirmary all those weeks ago; Harry was incapable of lying. There was no way Harry would have been able to keep his feelings for Severus from showing up on his face.
Apparently the thought hadn't even occurred to him.
Relaxing back into his chair, he urged Harry to do the same before calling for a tea service.
"I'm very sorry if I upset you, Harry. I was only curious as to how you and Severus were getting along."
Harry shook his head, still seeming angry. "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense, Remus. I tell you about him everyday."
Remus frowned and nodded into his tea. "Yes, you do."
****************************
Harry left Remus' rooms slightly sooner than he usually did. He had calmed down a bit but was not entirely over his anger at the other man. How could Remus possibly think those things about Snape? Well, yeah, maybe Snape had once almost hit him in the head with a jar of cockroaches but he had missed, hadn't he? What was the likelihood of a man like Snape missing accidentally?
Aside from that, the man had recently saved Harry's life. Again. How could Remus possibly think that Snape would harm him? He really had no idea what to think of his friend's questions.
Maybe Remus was worried because he'd be leaving Harry in a month's time. With all that had happened, and what was likely to happen in the near future, it couldn't be easy for Remus to just leave Hogwarts and leave Harry. He supposed it was only natural for Remus to be a bit protective of him. But still...
Harry shook his head as though the physical act would help clear his thoughts faster. By now his feet were accustomed to walking the steps from Remus' rooms in Gryffindor down to the dungeons. He walked the familiar territory quickly, eager to get back down to the dungeons and to Snape. He knew that his head would clear soon enough if he could only be in the man's presence for a bit.
Harry put his hand on the door to Snape's quarters and it opened for him. He was surprised to find Snape sitting in the same chair he'd been seated on when he had left him earlier, staring into the fire with a very lost look on his face.
"Snape?" Harry said, a question in his tone. That one word, just the man's name, infused with so many questions.
Are you alright? Did I leave you alone for too long? Did something happen?
When Snape didn't look up after a moment Harry began to worry. He rushed over to the man's chair, sank to his knees and put his hands on top of the Potions Master's-
Who immediately looked up at Harry and flinched. Snape's hands moved to cover his own automatically before the man pulled them away just as quickly. Confused, Harry followed them in their retreat and pulled them back towards himself.
"What happened to you?"
Snape shook his head and tore his gaze away from Harry's. "Nothing to concern yourself with, Potter."
Harry clasped the long-fingered hands between his own, running his thumbs over Snape's knuckles. He suddenly had an overwhelming desire to kiss them, though he couldn't have said why. The same confused sensation that he'd had in the lab weeks ago when he'd had the greatest desire to touch Snape's mouth came rushing back. He didn't understand why he had these feelings. All he knew was that he hated to see Snape suffer. Harry brought the potion-stained fingers up to his mouth but did not press his lips to them. Instead, he ghosted his lips over them in a shadow of a kiss, restraining himself in his desire to not embarrass himself should Snape push him away.
But the man didn't move. Instead, Snape allowed his left hand to be held close to Harry's mouth and ran his right through Harry's hair, and the young man let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.
In all his time with Sirius, Remus, and various older Weasleys, Harry's hair had been ruffled up and played with many times. He had not, however, had someone touch him the way Snape was right now.
One long-fingered hand was slowly running through his hair. Snape's thumb would trace his lightning bolt scar and then softly go through his fringe until his fingers came to the nape of his neck where they would barely make contact with his skin, causing the little hairs to stand on end. Harry shuddered each time but enjoyed the touch. Yes, he was sure no one had ever caressed him like this.
The hand that had been on Harry's mouth moved to cup his face, while Snape's thumb ran softly over his lips. The calloused thumb had never felt softer to Harry as it ran over his mouth.
Slowly, Snape cupped the back of his head while pulling his chin up to look the Potions Master in the eye. Harry looked up at Snape and smiled as he noticed the man's dark eyes shining in the firelight; some emotion contained in them that Harry couldn't quite define. Snape continued to play with his hair, and he gave Harry a very small but undeniable smile.
Harry gave a soft laugh and said, "And Remus was worried about how you've been treating me."
It was like a light had been suddenly put out without any warning. Snape dropped his hand from Harry's face and pulled the other from the back of his head. Harry mourned the loss of that warmth. Recognizing that the moment that had existed between them was now over, he got to his feet and sat on the sofa cushion nearest to the man who was now looking into the fire.
"What did Lupin say?"
Harry frowned. He tried to remember precisely what Remus had asked but couldn't remember the exact wording. He'd been too upset by his question to truly pay attention at that point. "He asked if you'd hurt me or... something like that. I can't remember how he asked it exactly but that was the general idea." Harry sighed and joined Snape in staring at the fire, the warm moment between them over for now, it seemed. "I couldn't believe he'd asked that. I mean, even when you hated me you never hurt me. You were always looking out for me. Why would he think that of you now?"
It seemed impossible, but Snape turned his head away from Harry even further.
"I've no idea."
Harry nodded, though he knew Snape couldn't see him. Snape didn't seem quite as upset as he had when Harry had entered the room but the atmosphere was still a far cry from the tenor of their usual evening chats.
Resolving not to ask the very private man what was bothering him, Harry simply sat there, hoping that his presence comforted Snape half as much as the man's did for him.
**************************
Snape quietly exited his bedroom, passing Harry who was sleeping soundly on his sofa. He quashed the urge to watch the young Gryffindor sleep a while and reminded himself of the task at hand. Harry would be awake any moment now and he wanted to return to his quarters before the young man realized he had gone.
As he entered the Great Hall he observed a small group of owls waiting patiently at the head table next to the seat where Harry took his meals. He had no doubt they carried gifts from Granger and various Weasleys, but he was more concerned with the small brown owl sitting on his usual seat, holding a plainly wrapped package. He put the required payment in the owl's pouch and sent the thing on its way.
Before leaving he addressed the other owls, saying, "Mr. Potter will not be along for some time. If you'll give me your packages I'll make sure he receives them." The owls looked at him curiously for a moment before deciding it was probably best not to argue with the man. Snape gathered up the parcels and moved to make his way back to the dungeons.
No sooner than he had turned around, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Remus Lupin walked through.
Taking his meals in the Great Hall for the past few days had been an exercise in control. It was incredibly obvious to Snape that Lupin had been trying to get him alone, ostensibly in an attempt to talk about the change in his patronus- about Harry. But Snape would have none of it; in fact it was all he could do not to hex the fool. Perhaps he was a monster for desiring a young man so pure but his affairs were surely none of Lupin's business. He had returned any glances Lupin sent his way with a glare of his own; he'd not have the wolf subjecting him to an inquisition in his own home.
Snape passed Lupin with the barest of nods, but was stopped before he could exit the hall by a hand on his shoulder.
Had Snape not had his arms full of packages he'd have forcibly removed the unwanted appendage from his person. As it was he was seriously considering levitating the packages so he could do so now.
"Are those for Harry, Severus?" The question was harmless but the tone conveyed far more than the words the man was saying.
Snape glared at the hand on his shoulder but Lupin did not remove it. "I suggest you unhand me, Lupin, before I remove it myself." Remus lifted the hand from his shoulder but did not move away. Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, they are for Potter. I was simply retrieving my own package and thought to bring these atrociously wrapped parcels down with me." Snape glared at the other man, daring him to speak.
Remus nodded but did not turn away. "You and I need to speak, Severus."
Snape merely lifted an eyebrow in response then turned and walked away.
********************
Harry woke up on Snape's couch in his sitting room, and sat up quickly upon realizing today was July 31st, his seventeenth birthday. It hardly made a difference, really; having stayed at Hogwarts all summer, his use of magic hadn't been restricted as it usually was. Even though he'd already been living like an adult for several months, the thought that he was now of age brought a smile to Harry's face.
Harry stood up and walked over to the Potions Master's door to use his bathroom. He knocked once to make sure he wasn't disturbing the man, then entered. The room was brightly lit, and Harry took that to mean that the man was up and seeing to his own morning routine. Harry paused, however, as he noticed that the door to the bathroom was open.
Crossing the room quickly, he determined that the man wasn't in his room at all. Frowning, Harry went into the sitting room and then Snape's office but could not find him. He frowned and was about to assume that the man had gone to breakfast without him when suddenly the man in question entered the room holding several packages.
"Good morning, Potter. I see you've decided against being a worthless lay-about after all."
Harry smiled. "Good morning, Snape. What've you got there?" Harry peered curiously at what Snape held in his hands.
"Several owls were pecking at the head table in the Great Hall this morning. It seems as though they were looking for you. I took the liberty of collecting their fares so they would cease to be as large a nuisance as their masters."
Harry laughed and sat down on the sofa. His eyes scanned the gifts in Snape's arms and one in particular caught his attention. Harry pointed to a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. All the other little packages were gaily wrapped with little notes attached to them and Harry thought that if Snape were going to give him a gift, it would be wrapped just like that one. "Can I see that one?"
"Ah, this. Surely you'd like to open one of these... obscenely wrapped monstrosities first?" Snape held the brightly wrapped packages at arm's length as though the festive paper were insulting him personally.
Harry shook his head and took the brown package from Snape's hands. The Potions Master sat down next to him on the sofa and looked over his shoulder as he unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a black box.
Harry opened the box and peeled back some tissue paper, revealing a very lovely pair of gloves. Dragon hide gloves, Harry mentally amended. He ran his hands over the tough fabric and smiled. Then he looked up at Snape to offer his thanks.
"Do not thank me, Potter. I simply mean to make use of your services in brewing some of the more highly volatile potions on the Order's list. You will require thicker gloves than those you have worn in the past if you'd like to keep your hands. You do realize you'd need them if you wish to continue chasing that infernal snitch of yours this year?"
Looking down at the black gloves in the box, Harry felt something stir inside of him. He briefly recalled the dream he'd had the first night he'd come down to Snape's rooms, and the fear he'd been feeling for weeks. He'd been so afraid when he had first come down to the dungeons, so terrified that Snape would have him leave just as he was finally beginning to feel right again. He picked up the gloves and put them on his hands, smiling.
Snape was keeping him.
Thanks to my beta Torina Archelda and canon beta White Cotton.
And hello to all the lovely people at severussighs, our Snarry discussion group over on yahoo. If there are any questions about updates, you can always find me there. If you'd like me to respond to your review, please leave your email address. All reviewers are so appreciated as so much time goes into this story.
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It was late.
It was very late.
It was so late that Snape was considering forgoing sleep that night and would have if it hadn't meant a verbal lashing from that shrew of a mediwitch in the morning when she came in for his daily check-up.
But the sound of Harry's voice and his intermittent laughter was so fulfilling that he hadn't had the heart to get up from his sofa and heed the call his very comfortable bed was giving him. Sleep meant leaving this place and it meant leaving Harry's presence and he quickly found that his desire for sleep was nothing compared to his desire for the young man sitting next to him.
"Alright, here's one for you," the young man said, one leg folded under the other and facing Snape. "If there is a heaven, and it could be anything at all, anything you wanted it to be... what would it be for you?"
Snape couldn't help the snort that came from his nostrils nor the roll of his eyes as he heard Harry's inquiry. He had been asking inane, meaningless questions like this all night, but Snape never once ignored them. The delight Harry took in his sardonic answers was enough reason to suffer the adolescent inquisition. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make his opinion known. Truth be told, he enjoyed how his retorts to Harry's questions were received and never tired of the other's laughter.
"Congratulations, Potter. I didn't think it possible but you've managed to outdo your 'If you could have any animangus form, what would it be?' inquiry. Really, I've no idea how that infantile mind of yours manages to put a sentence together in the first place."
Harry nudged Snape's knee with his. These little grazes were becoming more and more frequent but Snape still reveled in each touch, each little gift of intimacy that Harry didn't even realize he was granting him.
"Come on, Snape. These are great questions. It's suppose to make you question yourself, try to figure out what you love most in life. Whatever that is, that's what heaven would be like for you." Harry squinted a bit in thought and said, "So you, maybe, I don't know... would have a huge potions lab with loads of rare ingredients to play with and nothing would ever explode and every potion would come out exactly right." Harry smiled at his own guess. "Something like that."
Snape scoffed and said, "You and the headmaster are alike in this aspect, Potter- you both seem to assume that I live and breathe for my love of potions." At Harry's guilty look, Snape mentally berated himself for comparing Harry to the man who had spent the better part of a year completely ignoring him and quickly regrouped. "I do love, potions, Potter. I even like teaching to some extent-"
"Really?" Harry asked with false astonishment in his eyes.
"Hmph," Snape grunted before continuing. "Perhaps there'd be a lab of some sort in any kind of paradise I inhabit but that isn't what I'd do all day. Man cannot live on potions alone."
Harry chuckled lowly and said, "Alright, Snape, stupid guess. What would your heaven be like then?"
What Snape wanted to say was, 'There is no way I'm going to indulge you in this overly simplistic game of yours, Potter,' or 'That would be absolutely none of your business, now is it, you simpleton?' but what he actually said was--
"I imagine it would be something very much like this."
Snape's own eyes widened as he heard the words come out of his mouth and he could not stop as his head turned to face Harry's, the young man's own eyes wide with astonishment. The silence was thick between them and the only sound that Snape could hear was the faint crackling of the fire and the violent beating of his heart.
Before Snape could even backtrack and recede to his old vitriol, insulting Harry and blaming him for everything evil in the world, Harry softly whispered, "Is it like that for you, too?"
And with that the young man crossed the two or three inches that had kept them apart. Almost on top of him, Snape watched as Harry hesitantly stopped his assault, almost as if he was giving Snape an opportunity to push him away. When no such denial came, Harry approached him, placing his hands on Snape's shoulders, leaned over and lightly brushed his lips over the Potions Master's.
He couldn't truly call it a kiss, as neither of their lips moved against the other but that was quickly rectified as Harry placed a soft but equally innocent kiss on his lips again. This time, he felt as Harry's lips moved across his own, completely dry and very uncertain but still... it was a kiss.
Harry pulled back a bit, a stunned look in his eyes and looking for all the world as though he feared Snape was going to hex him into next Tuesday.
That beautiful look of innocence.
That brave act betrayed by the look of hesitation in those green eyes.
As though Snape could ever resist what Harry had to offer.
Something in Snape broke. The hold on his desire that he took so much pride in snapped under the pressure of Harry's unknowing assault. He ran a hand through Harry's hair and pulled the young man to him, kissing him with a force so strong he was sure he'd cut his own lip on his teeth.
Immediately, Snape took control over the situation. Whereas Harry's kiss had been tentative and innocent, Snape's was passionate and mad. He opened his own lips to tease Harry's, marveling in the distinctive taste of him. His heart soared as he heard the soft gasp Harry gave at Snape's fervor.
Harry really didn't taste of anything more than the pudding they'd eaten a few hours prior, but to Snape it was the most intoxicating flavor he'd ever come across in this life.
Kneading Harry's lips with his own, Snape quickly thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth and paused for a moment with bated breath. He stilled himself and waited until he could feel the shy tip of Harry's tongue touch his own.
Moaning, Snape gripped Harry's head harder and leaned over the young man, his tongue still mingling with Snape's and did not stop until Harry was underneath him, Snape's erection grazing Harry's thigh. Finally having the young man under him caused Snape to moan louder as he lightly thrust his cock against Harry's body.
Snape stopped suddenly at the gasp that was heard from underneath him. Not a moan of pleasure but a gasp of fear. He took his lips off Harry's, the audible sound of moisture leaving moisture filling the silence of the room.
Snape looked down to see what had startled Harry and was taken aback to see the outright look of disgust and horror in those bright green eyes.
A bit too late, Snape realized he still had his lower body draped across Harry's and that was, without a doubt, what had caused this sudden outburst from the younger man.
His body's reaction to Harry rapidly calming down, Snape quickly sat up as smoothly as he could, not wanting to frighten the young man further.
Like an animal quickly retreating from its prey, Harry stumbled as he struggled to sit up, never taking his eyes off Snape. He ran a hand through messy hair and spent a moment simply catching his breath, his eyes on the floor.
Of all Snape's sins, none seemed larger than the one he was staring in the face at this moment. He'd never felt more filthy in his life; not when he'd call Lily a mudblood, not when he had taken the Mark, not when he had heard the news that his friend was dead and he had killed her.
Nothing compared to this.
Slowly, Harry turned to look at him. The look of disgust marring that lovely young face was too much to bear.
What had he done?
This was supposed to be a safe place for Harry, a sanctuary.
Heaven.
"Harry, I -" but Snape was stalled as Harry put a hand up and stood up from the couch. Snape stood with him and Harry immediately turned to face him, backing away slowly.
"Wait, please..." Snape begged. He faintly recalled the last time he had begged for something and with great remorse remembered how well it ended up for him then.
Harry's face twisted into something awful. Gone was the beautiful smile and the mirth in his eyes. What was left was cold and cruel and struck down deep into Snape's heart.
"Why would I stay, Snape? Why would I stay here... with you and your-" Harry put his hands on his head and covered his eyes, seeming to avoid looking at Snape. "God, I can't believe I let you touch me! I can't believe I let an evil thing like you anywhere near me!"
Snape could barely argue against that. Why should Harry stay with a man such as him? Hadn't this been what he had desired all along? To find a way to have Harry leave? Leave him to his solitude, leave him to penance, and, when he was finally gone, his misery? Why was he begging the young man to stay?
"I apologize, Potter. I don't know what I was thinking."
"No, you didn't think. And I didn't either." Harry said maliciously. "We weren't thinking at all. If you'd been thinking," pointing his finger at him, Harry said very slowly, "then you'd have realized that I could never want you. And if I had been thinking, I'd have never let you anywhere near me. I'd have thought about everything you've done to me- how you killed my parents and sentenced me to a life of hell with people who hated me."
Snape shook his head but remained silent. Everything out of Harry's mouth was the truth but the words fell from his mouth like lashes on Snape's soul. Every fear, every failure, every sin was being broadcast out of Harry's mouth.
Harry shook his head in his anger but his face seemed twisted in grief. "There's an evil wizard that wants to kill me because of you, Snape. He wouldn't have known about the prophecy if you hadn't told him." Harry's voice grew louder as he released an anger that seemed to have been building for years.
"And you don't even blame yourself, you blame Fate! You tried to pawn that off on... what? God? Or the devil? What is this 'Fate' you keep talking about that somehow forces you to make horrible decisions? As if you can't make them on your own." Harry issued a hysterical laugh and sneered. "I can't believe you actually tried to make up such a lame excuse."
Snape wanted to protest, to tell Harry that he had been an instrument of Fate; that he knew somehow, someone would have brought the Dark Lord the prophecy, but what did it matter? Harry was right. Perhaps it hadn't been necessary for Snape to deliver the prophecy himself but what difference did it make? In the end, it had been Snape who had taken the prophecy to the Dark Lord and destroyed Harry's life. Anything else was irrelevant.
"You killed my mother, your best friend, to what end? To become the highest ranked Death Eater?" Harry looked at Snape and sneered, the gesture looking awful on that beautiful young face. "You disgust me."
Harry took a few more steps towards the door, walking backwards and never taking his eyes off Snape. "My best friend is dead because of you, Snape. All of this," Harry waved his arms around the room widely, "is because of you. If you hadn't delivered the prophecy to Voldemort then I wouldn't be here. I'd be at home... with my mom and dad... and Sirius."
Snape watched as an angry tear leaked from Harry's eye.
"But I'm not. I'm here with you... hiding out in the dungeons like some monster. And it's all because of you, you evil, soulless bastard."
Harry walked slowly to the door of his rooms, quickly turned around, and left, slamming the door on his way out.
It was the slamming of a door that woke him; Snape took a harsh gasp of air and shot into a sitting position on his bed.
"Damn," Harry swore lightly as he exited Snape's bathroom in the dark. "Um... Snape?"
Snape put his hands over his eyes and tried to will the remnants of that awful dream away, tried to banish to look of disgust in Harry's beautiful eyes, to forget the feeling of absolute pain as he realized that Harry's reaction to Snape's desire for him was not only natural, but expected. Why would a good and handsome young man like Harry react any other way?
Snape had no right to be lusting after Harry; the young man had every reason to hate him. The fact that he did not was only a testament to Harry's own overwhelming mercy and forgiveness.
To take advantage of that would be sacrilege.
"Professor... Are you alright?" Harry asked with concern.
Snape struggled to even his breathing. He rarely had dreams, and when he did they tended to be made up more of images and feelings than actual events. But this dream had been so real. He had felt the warmth of the fire and the softness of Harry's lips. He'd felt that firm young body under his and...
"Incendio," Snape heard, then watched as Harry's face was illuminated by the fire. "Oh."
Oh, indeed. Snape could only imagine how he looked right now.
"Have a nightmare then?"
Nightmare? The word simply didn't cover the horror he was currently attempting to push away from his consciousness. He felt a cold sweat covering his face and he was only barely getting a hold of his breathing. His hands had not shaken in this way for weeks.
Harry was looking at him in open concern and confusion, as though he had no idea how to handle seeing his once dreaded professor after the terror of a nightmare.
Harry did seem determined though, and he sat on Snape's bed and brought his body close to the man, obviously trying to offer comfort with his proximity.
The young man had no idea that his presence actually did the opposite.
Retreating, Snape quickly slid past Harry and put his feet on the floor and into his slippers.
"I'm fine, Potter. Please don't strain that mind of yours on my account; I have no desire to hear the screech of brain cells dying so early in the morning."
Snape sighed as Harry laughed. He vaguely recalled that only a month ago a comment such as the one he just uttered would have brought a glare and a snide remark from the young man sitting next to him.
And now it made him laugh. The thought both warmed his heart and brought a feeling of dread to it.
Groaning, Snape stood up and grabbed the dressing gown from the foot of his bed, putting it on and walking towards the sitting room.
Harry followed him. "Having a good day, then?"
Snape grunted something akin to an affirmative response. He'd been recovering with Harry in the dungeons for almost a month, and the young man had taken to determining his 'good days' and 'bad days.' On a good day Snape would get up in the morning, take his meals in the sitting room with Harry, and spend a good portion of the day brewing in his labs. They'd taken to discussing Occlumency and defense theory since Poppy still hadn't cleared him to actually practice either. Snape really didn't think there was a risk of being thrown around the room while teaching Harry Occlumency but Poppy insisted on waiting until he was stronger and Harry had outright refused to do anything that could set back the Potions Master's recovery.
On 'bad days' Snape still had a bit of difficulty getting around, but thankfully he no longer needed to lean on Harry to walk. How he had hated to admit just how much he had indulged in feeling the smaller body wrap into his own. Snape also needed to sit for longer periods while in his lab, during which times he had to monitor Harry as he prepared the trickier ingredients while Snape used his wand on the more volatile potions.
Thankfully, his bad days were occurring less often, and Snape could feel his strength returning. He would be healed fully by September first, he was sure, and Harry would be leaving him then.
Approaching the chair in the sitting room and watching Harry take his seat on the sofa close by, Snape came to a decision.
Harry had been in his presence nearly constantly for almost a month. Aside from his daily teas with the werewolf, Harry had been with him for the entirety of every day. Snape reveled in the fact that Harry seemed happy to be with him. He felt at times it was as though he had discovered some wonderful treasure and he had covetously hidden it away so no one else could find it, enjoy it, partake in its splendor.
Snape normally had no issue with his own selfishness. He'd been granted few things in this life and nothing could compare with Harry's beauty. But looking at the young man sitting across from him now, he knew it was not right to keep him locked up in the dungeons, even if Harry seemed content here. No, he'd hidden Harry from the rest of the world long enough.
"I believe we will take our breakfast in the Great Hall this morning, Potter."
Snape watched as Harry's face fell and he looked down to his hands; lying in his lap while he playing with his fingers. Snape had long since begun to equate the action with the young man's nervousness and apprehension. But why would Harry feel apprehensive about leaving the dungeons to take breakfast in the place where he'd taken his meals for the past six years?
Surely Harry didn't enjoy his presence so much?
"Oh," was all he said, his head still down. Peaking through the fringe of his hair, he asked, "Why though? I mean... I kind of like eating in here... Don't you?"
Snape had to work to keep his pleasure and surprise from showing on his face. He knew by now that Harry enjoyed his company, but spending time with him and him alone couldn't be good for either of them.
"Yes, Potter, I do, but I believe it is time for us to rejoin the world that is beyond the these rooms. I fear you've forgotten that the outside world even exists. The headmaster must assume that I've chopped you into potions ingredients by now. You really should show that bird's nest of yours in the Great Hall, if only to soothe the old man's fears."
Harry looked up and grinned, though the gesture did not reach his eyes. "Very funny. You know I had tea with the headmaster twice last week. He knows perfectly well that I'm alive and well, thank you."
Snape smirked as Harry continued.
"Really, though, do we have to? I mean, you know what breakfast will be like. It'll be a lot of, 'Oh, how's your progress coming, Severus?' and 'Harry, my boy, so happy to see the two of you getting along finally.' I mean really, do you actually want to put up with that for as long as it takes us to eat our eggs?" Harry leaned back in to the sofa as his grin diminished.
Snape stifled a snort at Harry's rather accurate description of what awaited them in the Great Hall, but would not be deterred. The past month had elapsed in such a distracted blur that for the first time in a very long time the Potions Master had found himself truly enjoying another's presence. And in all fairness to Lily, the depth of emotion he felt for Harry truly did transcend any kind of friendship he'd had in the past. Regardless of the inherent danger in allowing himself to revel so much in the young man's presence, Snape knew that it would be even more dangerous for him to allow Harry to forget that the outside world still existed.
The Dark Lord still lived and was surely plotting something; and after their most recent encounter it was almost certain that he would not trust Snape with this or any other information. His Death Eaters still did his bidding, and the most immediate threat...
Draco still walked free and in broad day light with his unapologetic selfishness and his warped affection toward him. As if any Malfoy could ever truly love anyone... The idea was as absurd as the thoughts of Harry that were currently traipsing through Snape's mind.
Forcing himself away from these dark thoughts, he was reminded that he really did have to get Harry out of the dungeons, if only to break out of this illusion, this fantasy world that they were currently inhabiting. Perhaps a different approach would yield more positive results, Snape thought.
"You are aware, are you not, that your friend the werewolf will most likely be there as well? Perhaps breakfast with the headmaster will be tedious but I can't imagine you not wanting to spend time with Lupin. He will be leaving after the summer, after all."
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Remus. I don't want him to go but..."
Snape quashed a sneer and said, "He can't stay, Potter. This is a school, not a base of operations. His presence here this summer is solely for your benefit. He can't stay while school is in session; he's not a professor nor is he a student."
Harry looked up at him, a slight glare in his eyes. It left after a moment and Harry gave a small sigh.
Oh.
Yes, though they'd had discussions on many topics, they'd never addressed that one in particular. In truth, he hadn't thought of how his airing out Lupin's dirty laundry would affect Harry; it had happened years ago and of course hadn't thought he would ever find himself in this situation. The very idea of him being... enamored with the Boy Who Lived would have been laughable. Now it was a painful reality.
Though he hated to see the pain in Harry's eyes, he also refused to settle for this silence. "Say it," Snape ordered, softly but with no small amount of bite. No topic had been off-limits to either of them in these last few weeks and he'd be damned if Harry suddenly shied away from something now; it'd be the worst kind of hypocrisy. Harry had slowly but surely wormed the truth out of him at every turn. He wouldn't settle for anything less from the young man now.
"He'd be a professor if you hadn't told everyone about his being a werewolf," Harry said, bluntly and void of any emotion. Snape blinked at the flat tone of his voice but noticed that Harry's eyes betrayed him in their anger.
"Yes, Potter. He might still be your professor had I not told the truth about his creature status. What of it?"
The strength of Harry's glare increased. "You didn't have to do that! I know you hated him but... I mean, he hasn't been able to find a job since then and-"
"Would you have me put the students at this school at risk simply so your friend can keep a job? Would you take on that responsibility yourself, Potter?" Snape met Harry's glare with one of his own.
Harry raised his voice, just short of yelling at Snape. "There was no risk as long as he took his potion-"
"Precisely," Snape interrupted, putting up a hand at a protesting Harry. "As long as he took his potion he posed no risk to the students. But he didn't take his potion, Potter. He allowed the events of that night to become more important than the lives of the students at this school. And that is inexcusable."
Harry frowned and Snape could see the wheels turning in his head. He could almost see the arguments as they were cycling through Harry's mind. 'Well, it was only that one time. He'd just found out that his best friend was innocent, what was he supposed to do, ignore it? He was only trying to help us, help Sirius. Shouldn't everyone get a second chance?'
Instead of voicing these thoughts, Snape watched as Harry deflated and exhaled a breath audibly.
"Don't tell me that those were the only reasons why you did what you did though, Snape."
Snape gave a soft, dark chuckle and sneered. "Oh, no, Potter. I readily admit that I took a certain amount of joy in informing those in power of Lupin's status. But that doesn't change the facts. Lupin knew that he was a danger to everyone around him but he still allowed himself to forget this and put you and everyone else at this school in danger."
Harry still looked upset but no longer as angry. Slowly, he ran a hand through his black hair and asked softly, "You don't still hate him though, do you? I mean... I know you did then. But... truly?"
Snape was really very tired of being asked this question, but the look on Harry's face drove him to answer. He didn't want the young man thinking that he still hated someone he was close with. "My hatred of him has somewhat dulled over the years, it seems."
Harry gave a small smile at that.
Snape would rather a half-hearted smile grace that face than a sneer, he thought, looking away quickly and rising to his feet.
"Now, if you're finished mulling over memories past, perhaps we can grace the headmaster and Lupin with our presence."
Harry looked towards the door in open dismay but nodded. Though he knew it was unlikely, Snape could have sworn he felt Harry's hand ghost against his own as they stepped over the threshold and out onto the hallway.
***********************
"I told you, didn't I? But no... We just had to have breakfast in the Great Hall," Harry said as the two of them slowly made their descent into the dungeons. "Can't we just take our meals in your rooms from now on? Please?"
Snape knew there was no way Harry could possibly know he would bend over backwards to do anything he asked, but some days he could have sworn the young man had an inkling. There was no way Snape could ignore Harry, try as he might. Snape bent his knees slowly as he walked the narrow stone steps that led down to the dungeons, very aware that Harry had slowed his own pace and was walking almost in front of him, protectively. He cursed his body for at least the twelfth time that week and said, "We'll do nothing of the sort. I am perfectly capable of making the short walk up these stairs and into the Hall three times a day. There is no other reason why we should avoid it."
"No other reason? You mean to tell me you're looking forward to Dumbledore asking you how you're feeling three times in five minutes and Madame Pomfrey piling bacon onto both our plates and Remus trying and failing miserably to hide his laughter behind his tea? 'Cause I'm not, really. Honestly Snape, I see Remus every day for tea and the headmaster calls me up to his office whenever he really needs to talk to me. It's not like you've locked me up in the dungeons or something."
He had a point, Snape thought, but again had the mental image of himself picking up Harry, throwing him over his shoulder and hiding him away in the dungeons forever.
Snape sighed.
"We'll take our breakfast and dinner in the Great Hall with the others. Lunch can be in our rooms, seeing as how we'll most likely be working through it either brewing potions or in our discussions on Occlumency and defense."
There. That was giving Harry what he wanted but would still allow them to make their presence known to the other inhabitants of the castle. It had the added advantage of getting Harry and himself among others for a short while which could only benefit Snape's waning self-control.
Snape almost bumped into Harry as the young man stopped on the stairs and visibly straightened. Snape stopped and looked over Harry, trying to see if there was something impeding their way. When he could find nothing, he began to worry about what had caused such a sudden reaction in the young man.
"Potter?"
Harry took another step down and turned his body to face Snape's. His eyes were wide but his face was blank; he was trying and failing to hide his emotions but Snape could easily see he was upset.
"Our rooms?"
Oh.
*Oh.*
Snape blanched as he recalled what he had unwittingly let slip and had to fight the desire to close his eyes and shake his head at his own foolishness. His control where Harry was concerned was diminishing as days went by. For a moment he thought to deny what he had said but instead he forced an eye-roll and walked around Harry, trying to make light of the situation.
"It's isn't as if you haven't made yourself perfectly comfortable in my home, Potter. You seem to forcibly invade any area you choose and slowly take it over- like some sort of virus. It's no surprise you have done the same to my quarters." Snape walked by slowly, subconsciously holding his breath until he heard Harry resume walking behind him.
"Yeah," was all Harry said in response.
Snape couldn't explain why he had said what he had. He only knew that Harry was getting much too close now. Whatever he felt for the young man was too all-consuming. He'd hardly ever dreamed and yet Harry seemed to take over both his waking and sleeping thoughts. The young man was penetrating every part of his life, every fibre of his being. And just as Snape had feared, he had no power to stop it.
They walked in silence until they reached the door that led to his private lab. Snape opened the door and walked over to sit behind his desk while Harry leaned against the table closest to it, awaiting their agenda for the day.
These movements were practiced and familiar to both of them, having quickly settled into a routine that changed little from day to day. Since they could not yet practice defense or Occlumency, they settled for potion-making and discussing either topic when there were lulls in the brewing process. It was comfortable and familiar in ways that Snape had never known. He'd never had the opportunity to acquire a lab assistant or apprentice and doubted he would have enjoyed the experience in the least.
Though Harry was by no means excellent at potions his skill had improved, and the young man's presence brought a light to his labs that had been absent before. Snape also found that he actually enjoyed discussing defense with Harry. The young man had always done well with the discipline, and Snape found that he had an excellent grasp of the subject matter and asked thought provoking questions.
Occlumency was not as easy to discuss, but Snape had pressed on all the same. The more Harry could absorb now, when there were no actual casting involved, the easier it would be for him to pick up the art once Snape was better able to cast spells.
That did not mean he was looking forward to it, however. Snape knew that Harry was not adept at mind magic, and though he had come up with several different teaching strategies he doubted Harry would become a stellar student overnight- or without some revisiting of their former adversarial relationship. Knowing this, Snape had already decided to enjoy the peaceful routine potion-brewing allowed while it lasted.
"We're going to continue with cooling potions today, Potter."
Harry sighed and then nodded, and Snape quirked an eyebrow in question.
Harry looked slightly embarrassed at having been caught acting like a bored child. "Oh, nothing, just... We've been doing those for days now. Any chance of doing something different?" Harry rubbed at some nonexistent dirt with the toe of his shoe and fidgeted a bit. Moments like these betrayed the young man's obvious youth though otherwise he conducted himself with a maturity greater than his years.
The question Harry had asked was interesting though. He had assumed from Harry's attitude that he had been enjoying their brewing; that he was growing bored already and desired a greater challenge was promising.
Snape scoffed and looked down at the list of potions he needed to brew for the Order. He'd been slowly restocking his personal store of healing and cooling potions, having used the strongest during his convalescence. They'd started with the less complicated ones but he supposed it would do no harm to skip ahead a bit.
"Very well, Potter. After that debacle in the Great Hall this morning I find myself nearly overcome with the desire to see you handling a more volatile potion." Snape could tell that his ominous words had not had the desired effect when Harry smothered a grin and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "In fact, the very idea of seeing you doused in billywig corpses threatens to bring a smile to my face."
Harry laughed, then stopped at Snape's straight face. Snape raised an eyebrow and waited.
Harry's face paled a bit and the smile left his mouth. "Oh. Er... Billywig corpses then? Don't we usually just use the stingers?"
Snape nodded at Harry's recollection. "Yes, we normally do but the stronger healing potions require the live insect in its entirety. I have the stingers that I require here but you will need to go to Hagrid's hut to retrieve a few live ones that will be necessary for the potion. I'm not entirely sure where he keeps them but I know he has a colony somewhere for this purpose."
Harry blanched at Snape's words. Oh, yes, Snape thought; he had yet to use live ingredients in his potions. The young man in front of him looked suddenly less enthusiastic. He could see the moment in which Harry considered asking if they could just go back to the same potions they'd been brewing day after day before Harry nodded and seemed to accept his fate.
It was a practiced move, Snape thought.
"Alright then. Hagrid's not here so where by his hut would I find billywigs?" Harry asked, trying very hard to appear as though he tossed live insects into a cauldron on a daily basis and wasn't at all disturbed by the thought.
"That I would not know, Potter. I know only that I'm going to start on the base of this potion and you need to be back here with five live billywigs within half an hour." Snape handed Harry a little paper box from one of the drawers in his desk and turned his back on the younger man. With that Snape walked around the tables and started summoning cauldrons, all too aware of Harry's stare on his back.
"The clock is ticking, Potter."
With that Harry laughed and walked out of the lab.
************************
Harry arrived twenty five minutes later in a rush. He slammed the door behind him and walked up to Snape, his face flushed and very much out of breath. He pulled out the little box, which Snape opened to inspect the specimens. He looked quickly, not wanting to allow the flying insects to escape, but even this cursory examination revealed one that seemed to be slightly crushed.
"What is this, Potter?"
Harry shifted on his feet and said with a surprising lack of confidence, "Um, that, Professor, would be five live billywigs."
"Potter, I believe I know the difference between dead and alive. It comes in handy in my line of work, I assure you, and this billywig," Snape picked up the slightly mangled corpse of the little blue insect and said, "is most certainly dead."
Snape watched as Harry's face paled and he shifted from one foot to the next. Then suddenly a small, almost undetectable grin graced Harry's features. It appeared more in his eyes than on his mouth but as Snape had been watching both, he'd caught it.
He was unprepared when Harry said, "No, no he's, ah.... he's resting."
Snape cocked an eyebrow at words that seemed so familiar to him and looked down at the billywig in his hands. He prodded it a bit with his wand and mentally declared it to be most certainly dead when he suddenly recalled where he'd heard Harry's words before.
Oh, surely not.
"Resting, is he?" Snape asked.
"Yeah, he's resting. Remarkable insect, the billywig. Wonderful stingers!" Harry said, almost joyfully but with a look of great hesitation on his face.
Snape stifled a laugh. He could hardly believe the conversation he was now engaged in but trudged along all the same, eager to see how far this would go.
"The stingers don't enter into it. It's stone-dead, Potter!"
Harry's eyes lit up at Snape's response. "No, no, he's resting!"
"All right then, if he's resting, I'll wake him up." With that Snape cupped his hand around the dead billywig and called into his hand, "Hello, Mr. Billywig! I've some lovely blades of grass for you if you wake up, Mr. Billywig."
Harry stretched out his hand and flicked the dead billywig in Snape's palm with his finger. "There, he moved!"
"No, he didn't. That was you pushing him!" Snape said, with feigned indignation.
"I never!" Harry said, his face red with the effort of withholding his laughter.
"Yes, you did, I just saw you!"
"No, I never..."
"Hello, Billywig! Wake up, Mr. Billywig!" Snape cried through his fingers as he began to shake poor creatures in his cupped hand.
"Now that is what I call a dead billywig," Snape said with an amused smirk.
"No, he's stunned... You... you stunned him," Harry was now openly laughing, his arms gripped around his stomach, trying to keep himself standing. His breath was coming out in pants and Snape could barely make out what he was saying.
"Look, Potter. the only reason this billywig isn't falling to the floor is because I'm holding him."
"Well, of course you're holding him, Snape. If you weren't, he'd just..." Harry tried to make a motion with his hands to indicate a sharp flying movement but failed when he started laughing again.
"Look, Potter, this billywig wouldn't take off if you put four thousand volts through it. It's woefully demised!"
"No, Snape...." Harry was gasping for air now. "It's pining."
Snape lifted an eyebrow and went in for the kill. "It's not pining, it's passed on. This billywig is no more. It has ceased to be! It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late billywig. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If I hadn't taken it into my hand he would be pushing up the daises! Its metabolical processes are of interest only to historians! It's hopped the twig. It's shuffled off this mortal coil. It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! This... is an ex-billywig!"
Harry was red in the face and had long ago been rendered incapable of forming a word let alone a coherent sentence through his laughter. Seeing that it was relatively unlikely that Harry would notice his own laughter, Snape smiled and let loose the low chuckle he'd been holding in for the past few minutes.
Harry immediately looked up and stopped laughing so hysterically. He hiccupped a bit and laughed sporadically as he said, "You should laugh more often, Snape. It suits you." There was still amusement in Harry's eyes, but his laughter had stopped. Harry's face suddenly took on a quality that was difficult for Snape to label, but if pressed he'd call it awed. Awed at what exactly, he had no idea.
"I like your laugh," Harry said and with that he leaned over the table that separated them and stretched out his hand toward Snape's upturned lips.
Snape immediately ceased his chuckling as his heart beat went through the roof. He had to intently restrain himself from opening his mouth and feeling Harry's thumb with the tip of his tongue. The threat of the caress of that calloused digit on his lips was unexpected, and neither was it completely welcome. Snape mentally sighed, partly in relief and partly with another emotion he sought to deny, when a slight frown creased Harry's mouth as he pulled his hand away.
Little touches like the ones Harry had been prone to give him lately were something he'd never experienced in his life. He'd had his share of partners but never a lover who had touched him like that. If pressed, Snape would be forced to say no one had ever touched him the way Harry did.
Had the young man any idea of what he was doing?
Harry frowned and glanced at his hand before putting it down by his side again, his laughter now having completely died down. The young man looked confused by his own actions but not disturbed. Whatever he was thinking it was clear that Harry had no idea of the torment he was putting Snape through.
It was all Snape could do not to run his tongue over the places Harry's finger had nearly grazed, the ghost of that phantom touch still burning him.
He walked over to the cauldron that held the base of the healing potion they would have brewed had Harry brought the proper ingredients. He deliberately didn't look at the young man, giving them both a moment to clear their heads. "Well, this is useless," Snape said and cast evanesco, to clear the cauldrons of the liquid they had previously contained.
Harry cleared his throat and said, "Er, I am sorry about the billywigs. I dropped the box on my way back into the castle and by then it had already been twenty minutes. There was no way I could have gone back and still made it in time." Harry ran a hand through his hair and said sheepishly, "I actually kind of hoped that the crushed one would hang on just long enough for him to be dropped in the cauldron. Stupid, that."
"Yes, I imagine it's not in the norm for you to wish for small insects to hold onto life simply so you may drop them into a boiling cauldron later." Snape gathered the rest of the ingredients and put them away.
Harry followed him over the storeroom. He put a hand on Snape's back and asked, "And by the way, how the hell do you have that entire Monty Python Pet Shop sketch memorized?"
Snape scoffed and turned around to address Harry, suddenly realizing how very close they were standing to each other. "You do realize that my father was a muggle, do you not, Potter?" Harry nodded but still seemed a bit confused. "I believe I've seen every episode of that program at least half a dozen times. The possibility does not exist that one can live in muggle England and not learn Monty Python by heart. The scripts are passed into the fetus subconsciously along with everything else it needs to thrive. You, obviously, are another example of this."
Harry laughed and ran a hand down Snape's back as they moved to exit the storeroom. Snape could swear he could feel where Harry had touched him far after the hand had been removed.
***********************
By the end of July, two weeks after the billywig incident, Snape felt he was finally ready to begin instructing Harry in the practical aspect of defense and Occlumency, instead of just the theory they'd been discussing for some time now. As much as discussing theory had helped, Snape knew that Harry had to begin training, especially in Occlumency. Of course, as his luck usually ran on the day that he had finally decided to put a lesson plan into action his body decided to rebel against him once more.
"Do you think you'll feel up for a walk today?" Harry asked, turning to Snape on the couch and nudging his knee with his own. If Harry continually took to sitting right next to him on the sofa, instead of on the opposite side as people were normally apt to do, Snape wasn't about to mention it. Though he knew it ill-advised, he continued to adore Harry's little grazes more than he wanted to admit.
"Do I appear to be dying, Potter? Because that is the only reason why I would cease my daily excursions. You do not have to join me if you do not wish to. I'm sure that wolf friend of yours would enjoy seeing you for longer than an hour or two a day."
Harry smiled as Snape had come to expect him to whenever he made a disparaging remark. "Maybe, but remember at breakfast Remus said he had Order business and that he might be late. Besides, I like spending time with him, but... No, I like taking those walks with you." Harry smiled and met Snape's gaze dead-on, black eyes meeting green. There was no shyness, no hesitation in Harry's countenance. Why would there be, Snape asked himself. It wasn't as if Harry's thoughts for him were plagued by perversions.
"Well, your tastes always did leave something to be desired, Potter. If you're willing-"
But Snape was unable to finish his sentence as suddenly a bright silvery object came bursting through his quarters and ran up to Harry. Both men had their wands out instantly, but lowered them at the same time as they realized what the silvery object was.
"I'll have to change my wards to not allow wolves or wolf-like entities, I suppose, if they are going to come traipsing through my dungeons in this manner," Snape said in a droll tone.
The wolf patronus opened its mouth and spoke. "Harry, would you like to meet me for tea an hour later than usual?"
Harry watched as the silvery wolf faded away. Turning to Snape, he said, "Why didn't he just fire-call?"
Snape rolled his eyes and deadpanned, "He obviously knows you well enough to realize your attentions can only be held by shiny objects, Potter."
Harry laughed and said, "Very funny. No, really. I've seen him use his patronus a few times in the last month but it was always in an emergency." Harry looked down, his eyes unfocussed as his mind wandered over what Snape was sure were not warm memories.
In an effort to save Harry from himself once again, he quickly interrupted whatever train of thought was currently going through the Gryffindor's head. "No doubt he wants to see if you can respond. Casting the patronus charm is challenge for most wizards but once that skill has been acquired learning how to send messages is no difficult task."
Snape stood up and motioned for Harry to do the same. This might not have been what he had intended to teach Harry, but it was a lesson and for that, Snape was glad. These weeks spent in the dungeons had been far too relaxing, far too comfortable for both himself and Harry. While he silently rejoiced at witnessing Harry thrive in his presence, he also realized that the young man was far too relaxed and still far too removed from what was going on outside of the castle's wards. They needed to stop acting as if there was nothing to hide from and begin preparing for what was coming. As much as he hated to destroy that comfortable air that surrounded Harry these days, he would have to do so if only to save the young man from himself.
Both had their wands in hand when Snape said, "You know, of course, that in order to create a corporeal patronus, one must think of a very happy memory; allow it to fill you up and penetrate your senses."
Harry nodded.
Snape continued. "Well, having your patronus carry a message requires all of that to be done almost in your subconscious mind. You have to allow the thought to fill you from the inside out so completely that you no longer concentrate so much on the memory, but more the feeling of the memory. That in turn allows you to fabricate a message in your mind, which you then speak and which will in turn be spoken through the patronus."
Snape stood back a bit from the sofa and chairs. "Observe," he said quietly.
It was no great difficulty casting the patronus charm. When Snape had initially learned it, he thought it would be tremendously hard to come up with a happy memory strong enough to perform it. And it had been very difficult, at first. How could it not be when his only happy memories were so sullied? However, over the years he had perfected his ability to concentrate only on the good of the memory and not the bittersweet taint that surrounded it.
He always picked the same memory. It was of Lily and himself at a park in their youth, swinging on a swing set near their homes. He went back to that thought now but found it difficult to concentrate on the familiar memory of Lily's red hair swaying in the wind, of her bubbling laughter as she flew through the air. Instead all he could see was Harry looking at him expectantly. Suddenly, the memory grew dim and no longer filled the forefront of his mind. Harry was looking at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.
Grumbling at himself for taking so long with Harry standing right in front of him, he closed his eyes to avoid the young man's expectant stare as well as the memories this particular person brought to his consciousness.
Snape closed his eyes, but again all he could see was Harry. Harry's green eyes, Harry's slim form but broad shoulders. Harry's hands touching his, Harry's knee nudging his with their accursed familiarity...
Realizing this was taking far too long, Snape consciously cleared his mind as though he were in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. Concentrating as hard as he could on the memory of Lily, Snape formulated a sentence in his head, opened his eyes and said, 'Expecto Patronum.'
The white mist that came out of his wand was immediately sneered at as if it had perpetuated some great wrong upon him.
He couldn't believe it. He hadn't had this problem since his youth. And how incredibly embarrassing that this would happen right in front of Harry!
Oh, yes, Harry, Snape thought turning his glare from the offensive white mist to the young man standing in front of him...
Who was looking at him with a great deal of sympathy. Oh, gods. He could have handled Harry mocking him far better than he could stomach Harry acting like he was some incompetent. Or worse, some thrice damned emotional cripple incapable of finding one good memory. And of course, it did not help that the young man in front of him had been capable of casting this particular charm at the age of thirteen.
Harry looked down to the floor and ran a hand through his hair. In a very quiet voice, he said, "I bet it's really hard for you to think up a good memory. I mean, it's understandable that-" Harry was cut off by Snape, who nearly roared in his anger.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your mouth this instant, Potter!" Snape's fury at this was quick, and he watched as Harry looked up and frowned as he took a step back from the all too familiar Professor Snape.
Seeing that he had upset the young man, Snape immediately pulled his anger back. It wasn't Harry's fault that his very presence was so distracting to the Potions Master. No, the fault lay solely on him and his wretched desires. Snape hated the look Harry was giving him now, like he was hurt and unsure of who exactly was standing in front of him. Was he the man Harry had been living with for over a month or the misanthrope of the dungeons?
Snape sighed and took a step back as well, trying to give Harry some space. In a much softer voice he said, "I am perfectly capable of casting that charm, Potter." Snape quickly went over a myriad of excuses in his head that were better than 'your beauty and quiet strength are simply an insurmountable distraction that I am faced with upon every breath I take.' But he had no desire to be maudlin with the young man, nor did he wish to lie to him outright. Remembering the person in front of him, he aimed for levity. With a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic tone he continued, "Your presence here is merely so distracting that I find it impossible to concentrate on a good memory. If I allowed myself to become distracted for even a second I'm certain you'd choose that moment to go traipsing off on some adventure involving trolls and giants. Truly, Potter, you are a menace."
Harry obviously realized that Snape was trying to make light of an embarrassing situation. Perhaps the boy had more than half a brain after all. His frown disappeared as he took in the Potions Master's words and he smiled. "Trolls and giants?"
Snape face was straight as he deadpanned, "Indeed."
The Potions Master saw the instant that the young man decided to forgive Snape's transgression and play along. Harry seemed to try to quash his smile but was unsuccessful. "Well, if you're not capable of casting a Patronus in my presence I'll just have to protect you myself, won't I?"
Snape rolled his eyes and scoffed as he started to walk towards the door that led out of his rooms. "Yes, Potter, I'm so very fortunate to have an in-house savior."
Harry followed him out of the hall, laughing and light on his feet as he continued his playful tirade. "Hey, it's a good thing I'm here, Snape. You never know when you're going to need a hero."
********************
"Thank you for coming back so quickly, Remus." Dumbledore stood up from his desk as Remus walked into the room. "Were you able to speak with the man?"
Remus sat down in his usual chair, not at all surprised at the lack of the usual offering of tea and biscuits. This was hardly a friendly visit.
He nodded. "I'm glad Kingsley was assigned to that case. He handled the obliviation personally, or rather, he personally failed to administer it." Remus adjusted his back in his seat and looked over Dumbledore's desk, struggling for the right words to describe the state the man had been in before Kingsley had performed a calming charm.
"There's no doubt in my mind that Death Eaters attacked that neighborhood. But what I've been trying to determine for the last few hours is why, Albus." Remus issued a frustrated sigh as he wracked his brain again for an answer that was not forthcoming. "It was a muggle neighborhood. Kingsley said there are no wizards living in the area nor relatives of wizards, as far as they could tell. It just looks like some random attack. And I don't understand why Voldemort wouldn't have been more careful. Even he would suffer if the muggles found out about us."
Dumbledore's eyes grew darker as he leaned back in his chair, his hand reaching out along his desk, fingers grazing the chessboard with its black and white pieces that Remus had grown to despise. Remus resigned himself to waiting for the headmaster to take in the information he'd just given him. His eyes wandered around the room a bit; his gaze coming to rest on Fawkes, lightly trilling in his cage, and the shelves of odd looking instruments and books.
He redirected his gaze to the headmaster's desk and the documents that were scattered in chaos across it, piled on top of large tomes and parchment. Remus let his mind wander as his eyes landed on a familiar looking book that lay on Dumbledore's desk.
Darkest Bonds. The reason Harry was currently calling the dungeons home.
Remus was contemplating how odd that fact was once again when Dumbledore's voice commanded his attention.
"Why doesn't factor into it, Remus. These are not the actions of a general, they're the meandering whims of a madman who sends his soldiers to slaughter without any thought to the consequences." Dumbledore was looking past Remus as he continued, "You cannot look at a mass-murderer and try to fathom his reasons." The headmaster seemed to realize he was talking to himself and looked up at Remus, a smile that did not reach his eyes again gracing his aging features.
"Thank you for bringing me this information, Remus. We still have no idea what Voldemort is planning but he reveals something in every attack; even if it's nothing but his own madness." The headmaster sat up straight in his chair and called for tea, pouring himself and the other man a cup.
"You know, I'm so very glad that you decided to stay at Hogwarts this summer. I think it's benefited Harry greatly. His attitude has improved significantly this summer." Dumbledore added some milk to his cup and leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face.
The subject change should have been abrupt and off-putting to another man but after dealing with the eccentric wizard for several years, he was used to the mental jumps the man made.
Remus nodded and smiled as he always did while taking tea with the headmaster. Of course, all of Albus' teas were really excuses for something else entirely, and this session had been no different. The last time Remus had been invited to tea he'd spent a half hour dancing around the subject of Harry. How Harry was, how he was coping living in the dungeons. Did Harry seem to be faring better than before he had gone to live in Severus' quarters?
And in all honesty, Remus had answered yes. Yes, Harry seemed to be in very good spirits. Yes, Harry seemed to be getting along very well with Severus if his daily teas with Remus were any indication. More often than not the young man was still smiling as he walked into his rooms.
Remus had always expected that Severus would be a good man to get to know, if only he would let anyone do so. He was very pleased though a bit confused that Harry had managed to worm his way into the man's life. He knew from experience how much Severus enjoyed his privacy.
Truth be told, everyone knew that Severus was now more than capable of getting around on his own. He hardly needed assistance even in his lab these days, if what Harry said in their daily visits was true. And yet no one had asked if Harry wanted his own rooms now, and no one had asked Severus if he wanted his life back. Both men seemed to be very content in their current situation.
And that confused Remus greatly.
Of course, he could understand Harry's desire for a friend. He knew that Ron's death had left Harry with a gaping hole in his heart that even he couldn't fill. But he had honestly expected Harry to be corresponding with Hermione rather than talking with Severus. And yet that was not what had occurred. More confusing was that they seemed to be together all the time. After interrupting them in the lab nearly month ago, Remus had learned that the two of them had a certain chemistry to their relationship that could neither be explained nor understood.
Needless to say, Remus had not gone barging in on their conversations again. He had no desire to judge Harry's choice of friends, and had oddly enough been left feeling like a third wheel, which was a feeling he had no desire to revisit. He was comfortable enough with either his old schoolmate or Harry on their own, but being with the two of them together that day had been odd in the extreme. He had no problem fire-calling Harry or sending a message to him asking for time to nurture their own friendship. He was very glad to be able to get to know Harry again, and was glad to see him doing so well, especially after such a tragedy.
The fact that Severus Snape had inspired this in Harry was not lost on him. Nor was the oddness of that fact.
Conscious of the fact that his mind was wandering he addressed the headmaster. "Yes, and thank you for allowing me to stay here, Albus. I'm very glad that I've been able to spend some time with Harry this summer, especially after such an awful year."
The headmaster nodded and got to his feet to see Remus out. "Yes, I'm only sorry that we were not able to spare him the hardship that last year has brought him. But he has you here now, and it seems he and Severus are getting along splendidly. I have no doubt that Harry will be able to handle whatever challenges the coming year brings well enough."
Remus smiled and walked out of the office. He was glad that the meeting with Albus hadn't run too long otherwise he'd have been even later for his meeting with Harry. He had hoped that the young man would have responded with a patronus of his own, but he supposed no one had gotten around to teaching him yet.
He began to walk down to the hallway that led to his rooms when suddenly he heard voices. Two voices to be exact, though he could hear one quite better than the other. Though he knew automatically who the voices must have belonged to, he still didn't believe it could be Severus and Harry. He hadn't spent much time with both of them, but he still was surprised to hear the two voices...
Were they flirting?
Remus instinctively backed up into the wall, found a suit of armor to hide himself behind, and listened as the voices grew closer.
Remus watched as Harry came into view. He was walking backwards and he had his wand out, brandishing it like it was some kind of sword. The hallway was large and empty so all Remus could hear was an echo as Harry spoke, rather than the actual words the young man was saying. Harry spun around from his backwards position and walked around his old school mate, his feet crossing the other in what appeared to be a practiced move, almost dancing around Severus. His face was brightly lit with a warm smile as he waved his wand in the air against some unseen adversary.
Remus quirked an eyebrow at Harry's overly friendly behavior toward the Potions Master but aside from his being a bit too familiar with the other man, he could find nothing unusual in his actions.
No, it was Severus' actions that a man less familiar with him would instantly brush off that made Remus rethink everything he had ever thought he knew about the man.
Severus was hardly saying a word to the still playful Harry, and Remus supposed he had used up his sarcastic comments when the two had been out of sight. But it wasn't so much the look on Severus' face that shocked him. He could see a slight smile grace the thin lips, but nothing too revealing. No, what made him marvel wasn't Severus' lack of snark or his almost pleased countenance.
It was his eyes. He'd never seen Severus look at another human being the way he was looking at Harry. Having known the Potions Master off and on for over twenty years, Remus had learned that though Severus was not a bad man, neither was he a warm one. Remus suspected Severus hadn't had a real friend since before Lily's death. Remus was well-used to the cold look that had inhabited Severus' eyes since their fifth year at Hogwarts, and the cruel nature that had gone along with it. But even thinking back to those early years, when Severus had been very close to Lily, he couldn't remember him ever looking at anyone this way before.
Severus had the look of a man who was completely in love. He was looking at Harry as though he was his entire world, as though the sun rose and set just for him.
No. Impossible.
Stunned, he watched as Severus smiled broadly the moment Harry was out of eyeshot and this time the look was immistakeable. Though he had never seen Severus look that way, he knew what a man in love looked like. The warmth in those dark eyes, the smile that was too genuine for even a spy to fake, the ease with which he walked by Harry's side.
Remus watched as Harry ceased circling the Potions Master and took his place on the man's right. They walked closely together, side by side, and as Remus watched they walked away, Harry's arm grazing Severus'.
********************
Snape was relieved to be back in his sitting room and demonstrated such by sitting down on the sofa as soon as he was able.
It came as no surprise when Harry sat next to him.
"I can relax now, right? This is a Dementor-free zone?" Harry said with look of mock seriousness on his face.
Snape lifted an eyebrow and suppressed a smile. He really had allowed Harry far too many disparaging comments on his person on their daily walk around the castle, but the young man had seemed too happy to be poking fun with his once most hated professor that he couldn't find the heart to shut him up.
At the time.
"I believe I've allowed you enough enjoyment at my expense for an entire year, Potter. You've still a bit of time before you're expected at Lupin's and I want you to learn how to cast a messenger patronus properly. On your feet."
Harry smirked but did as he was told. The young man took his wand out and awaited instruction, all traces of humor gone from his face. At least he knows when the time for distraction is over, Snape thought to himself.
"Now, as I said before. Think about your happiest memory, allow it to fill you up, then think the words you'd like Lupin to hear and say them aloud after you cast the spell."
"How will we know if it's worked properly?" Harry asked, planting his feet a bit farther apart from each other.
"Well, Potter, if your patronus goes running around the room looking for dementors that aren't there we'll finally have proof that there really isn't a brain in that head of yours. If, on the other hand, it gallops out the door then we'll know you've succeeded."
"Alright, then," Harry said and took a step back from the sofa. He seemed to concentrate for a moment before casting, "Expecto Patronum." The silver stag errupted from his wand lighting up the dungeons. "Tea sounds great, Remus. I'll be there shortly."
But the stag simply walked around the room a bit before fading into nothingness.
Harry frowned.
Snape regretted his harsh words a bit. He'd never known of a person who successfully cast a message on their first try. He tried to be reassuring. "Very good for a first try, Potter, but you need to concentrate more."
"I am concentrating. I don't know what went wrong," Harry said as he ran a hand through his hair.
Snape stood up, still a bit shaky from that long walk. "Don't be sullen. It's rare for someone to succeed on their first try. Now, I want you to concentrate this time but not only on the memory, but also on the words."
Snape took a step back from the sofa as did Harry and raised his wand again.
Again, he thought of Lily but continued to be distracted by Harry's presence. Snape growled to himself and thought that he would not embarrass himself again. He knew now that there was no way he could rid Harry from his mind. The young man selfishly commanded his attention in his every waking moment.
Not only my waking moments, thought Snape. And suddenly it came to him. Perhaps it was impossible to get Harry out of his head but he could still find one happy memory.
Snape thought of the memory of his dream from several nights ago. Of that one moment before everything had gone wrong. That one beautiful moment when it had seemed as though Harry was his and he could have everything that the young man had to offer.
He concentrated on how real those lips had felt and how lovely it had been to have that firm body under his. Only that moment, that one second in time when everything had seemed perfect.
"Expecto Patronum," Snape cast, and he watched as a silver entity went galloping out of his wand.
Both men stopped at the sight of the misty doe standing in the middle of Snape's sitting room, awaiting her orders.
Snape stood in shock for just a moment before saying, "You can expect Potter's loathsome presence shortly, Lupin."
The doe took off at a gallop, leaving the room and heading to wherever Lupin was at the moment.
Harry frowned, taking in the scene that had just played out before him. Snape watched as Harry paused and took a shaky breath before he asked his question.
"You patronus is a doe?" he asked quietly.
Snape nodded. Yes, apparently it was.
Harry put his head down and did not meet Snape's eyes. "Oh. Um... You know that my dad... He was..." Harry stuttered as he was wont to do when nervous but for once Snape didn't stop him from blabbering. "Is... um... Was my mum's patronus a doe?"
Again, Snape nodded. Realizing Harry was still not looking at him, he added, "Yes, it was."
Harry finally looked up, a look of cautious sadness on his face. "Oh," was all he could say for a moment. The young man looked down again and addressed his shoes. "We never really talk about it but... You really did love her, didn't you?"
Nodding seemed to be the only way he could easily communicate just now. He forced himself to say, "She was my best friend, Potter."
Harry nodded but said nothing to this, the silence stretching between them.
"Um, well I guess we can finish this later, can't we? I think I'll go join Remus for tea." Harry looked up and gave him a sad smile before turning and walking out the door.
Snape sat down on the couch, barely noticing when Harry left the room.
It might not have been the best idea to send that patronus to Lupin, he thought, but really he'd find out soon enough, the wolf being a member of the Order and all.
Snape took his wand in his hands and again cast the patronus charm, watching as the silvery doe came charging out to meet him again. This time he didn't order it away, choosing instead to run a hand through its silvery mist.
Deceptive, clandestine, cunning: these were all words that Snape had used to describe himself over the years, and even more so when he returned to Dumbledore's service as a spy. He'd always prided himself on being true to himself, however; of always knowing his own mind even when the truth of the matter was something lesser men would have hidden from. He really shouldn't have been so surprised therefore to see that his patronus had changed to compliment Harry's.
The doe seemed to be a bit stronger than his raven had ever been. Apparently all his denial had been for naught, for he was now staring proof in the face that he was completely, hopelessly in love with Harry Potter.
*************************
Remus Lupin was startled when a silvery doe charged into his room. It was not the sight of the patronus itself that startled him, he had been expecting either Harry's stag or Severus' raven to come charging in at any moment now. But he knew the form of the patronus of every person presently in this castle and a doe was not one of them.
He was therefore shocked to hear Severus' voice come out of the doe's mouth.
Listening to the message and realizing Harry was probably already on his way, Remus forced his mind to slow down and concentrate on the conversation he was about to have.
If there had been any doubt in his mind about his old school mate's affections for Harry, they were gone now. A patronus didn't change due to some passing fling, nor was it adapted for a close friend.
No, only a great emotional change could alter the appearance of one's patronus. Remus knew that Severus' had always been a raven; he could still recall Sirius mocking him by calling it a crow even now. But it had obviously changed to reflect Harry's own.
He had no idea how he was going to have this conversation with Harry. Really, he thought, he had no right. He was Harry's friend, not his father. Truth be told, he had no desire to fill that role for the young man. If there was any familial feeling between them it was fraternal more than anything else, for which Remus was glad. The time when Harry had needed a father figure had long since passed. His young friend hadn't truly been a child for some time.
Well, he was Harry's friend, that much was certain. Friends looked out for each other; surely that gave him the right to ask the questions he needed to ask.
A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. Remus rose from the straight-backed chair sitting in front of the fire and went to open the door only to find a very solemn-looking Harry standing on the threshold.
"Harry?" Remus greeted him in an inquisitive tone. "Come in. Are you alright?" Remus opened the door wider and stepped back to let his friend in.
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Snape." Harry walked past Remus into his room, head still slightly bowed and face sullen. "You got his patronus?" When Remus nodded, Harry continued, "Did you know about it?"
Remus blanched and sat down in his chair, gesturing for Harry to do the same in the one opposite him. He prepared himself for the answer to the question he knew he had to ask. "Yes, I did. What about that upset you?"
Harry looked up at Remus and said softy, "Well, he had told me that was friends with my mother." Harry paused and looked up at Remus, a look of slight hesitation in his eyes. "But, you knew about that, right? It's not like it was some big secret, was it?"
Remus shook his head. "No, I knew they were friends when we were in school. They were together all the time... Until after our OWLS."
Harry stiffened and put his face in his hands, his elbows meeting his knees. "Yeah," Harry sighed. "That."
Remus was at a loss as to why exactly Harry was upset and was bringing Lily into the conversation. When Harry had mentioned Severus' patronus, he'd thought that the young man would have put two and two together by now. He didn't expect Harry to be angry with Severus but he guessed there might have been some awkwardness there. "Harry, what does your mother have to do with Severus' patronus and why does it have you so upset?"
Harry sat up straight and looked Remus straight in the eye. "I don't know. I mean... I knew that he loved her. He told me that she was his best friend. I know he didn't really have any other friends, unless you count the headmaster... Or you, and, well, no offense Remus, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't."
Remus smiled a bit and conceded the point.
"I've been with him while he recovered all summer long." Harry gazed sadly at Remus, almost looking past him. "I would have known if a friend had visited him or if he'd received a letter but... Nothing. All this time. I mean, I knew it before, but seeing that his patronus is a doe just like hers... It just kind of forced me to really realize it, you know?" Harry sighed again and looked at the fire. "I didn't want to ask him but... I wanted to know. You and Sirius were always talking about how great a guy my dad was and how you were such great friends. I had kind of forgotten that Snape was her friend. That he still misses her even after all this time."
Remus blinked.
Oh, gods.
Had Severus allowed Harry to believe that his patronus was a doe because of his love for Lily?
"Harry..." Remus tried, but in truth he had no idea how to start this conversation. Harry looked up at him, sadness etched onto his face.
Remus ran a hand over his face and sighed. He looked up at Harry again, and now confusion marred the young man's features. He could think of nothing to say but, "What exactly do you feel for Severus?"
Harry's confusion increased for a moment before a look of annoyance played over his features. Harry leaned his head down and sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration.
Harsh green eyes peered up at him through black fringe. "You know, Remus, I didn't think I'd have to defend myself to you, of all people."
"What?" Remus asked aloud, not understanding Harry's outburst.
"Do you really think that after all he's done for me, after all we've shared, that I'd hurt him? That I'd what... Just abandon him or something? Stop being his friend? I mean, do you really think I'd do something like that? Leave him alone, with Malfoy still out there?"
Remus put up a hand to halt the argument Harry was having with himself. "No, no, Harry, you misunderstand me. I didn't mean anything like that. I know you; you would never hurt Severus or anyone you cared for." Remus paused a moment and then said slowly, "And, you do care for Severus, don't you?"
"Of course I care for him. He's my friend. Do you really think that after saving my life and my ... sanity and letting me stay with him all this time-"
"Harry!" Remus shouted this time, unwilling to let this conversation unravel farther. "No, Harry I don't think that at all. Let me rephrase my question, please."
Harry nodded but still seemed to be on his guard.
"Severus is usually a very cold man. Surely you can agree that normally he isn't the warmest individual?" Remus tried to reason with the young man, who seemed inordinately upset on Severus' behalf. When the young man nodded he continued, "He hasn't done anything... odd to you, or made you feel uncomfortable, has he?"
If Harry had been annoyed before he was enraged now. He stood up from his chair and shouted at the man, "Merlin, Remus! You know, everyone thinks that Snape's the hateful one, the one who truly loathes you even after all these years but that's not true is it? You know I asked him a few weeks ago how he truly felt about you and he doesn't hate you. How can you hate him? I mean, yeah, I know that he got you kicked out of Hogwarts and I'd be pretty angry if I were you too, but-"
Remus stood up and put his hands on Harry's shoulders in an attempt to calm the young man. "Harry, please, no. I don't hate Severus and I certainly don't blame him for my... current unemployment. I wasn't angry with him then and I'm not angry with him now. I just wanted..."
But really Remus understood why Harry was reacting this way. He had been trying to skirt the issue instead of asking Harry directly if he had romantic feelings for Severus, but clearly the young man's thoughts weren't in even the vicinity. Severus had been right in the infirmary all those weeks ago; Harry was incapable of lying. There was no way Harry would have been able to keep his feelings for Severus from showing up on his face.
Apparently the thought hadn't even occurred to him.
Relaxing back into his chair, he urged Harry to do the same before calling for a tea service.
"I'm very sorry if I upset you, Harry. I was only curious as to how you and Severus were getting along."
Harry shook his head, still seeming angry. "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense, Remus. I tell you about him everyday."
Remus frowned and nodded into his tea. "Yes, you do."
****************************
Harry left Remus' rooms slightly sooner than he usually did. He had calmed down a bit but was not entirely over his anger at the other man. How could Remus possibly think those things about Snape? Well, yeah, maybe Snape had once almost hit him in the head with a jar of cockroaches but he had missed, hadn't he? What was the likelihood of a man like Snape missing accidentally?
Aside from that, the man had recently saved Harry's life. Again. How could Remus possibly think that Snape would harm him? He really had no idea what to think of his friend's questions.
Maybe Remus was worried because he'd be leaving Harry in a month's time. With all that had happened, and what was likely to happen in the near future, it couldn't be easy for Remus to just leave Hogwarts and leave Harry. He supposed it was only natural for Remus to be a bit protective of him. But still...
Harry shook his head as though the physical act would help clear his thoughts faster. By now his feet were accustomed to walking the steps from Remus' rooms in Gryffindor down to the dungeons. He walked the familiar territory quickly, eager to get back down to the dungeons and to Snape. He knew that his head would clear soon enough if he could only be in the man's presence for a bit.
Harry put his hand on the door to Snape's quarters and it opened for him. He was surprised to find Snape sitting in the same chair he'd been seated on when he had left him earlier, staring into the fire with a very lost look on his face.
"Snape?" Harry said, a question in his tone. That one word, just the man's name, infused with so many questions.
Are you alright? Did I leave you alone for too long? Did something happen?
When Snape didn't look up after a moment Harry began to worry. He rushed over to the man's chair, sank to his knees and put his hands on top of the Potions Master's-
Who immediately looked up at Harry and flinched. Snape's hands moved to cover his own automatically before the man pulled them away just as quickly. Confused, Harry followed them in their retreat and pulled them back towards himself.
"What happened to you?"
Snape shook his head and tore his gaze away from Harry's. "Nothing to concern yourself with, Potter."
Harry clasped the long-fingered hands between his own, running his thumbs over Snape's knuckles. He suddenly had an overwhelming desire to kiss them, though he couldn't have said why. The same confused sensation that he'd had in the lab weeks ago when he'd had the greatest desire to touch Snape's mouth came rushing back. He didn't understand why he had these feelings. All he knew was that he hated to see Snape suffer. Harry brought the potion-stained fingers up to his mouth but did not press his lips to them. Instead, he ghosted his lips over them in a shadow of a kiss, restraining himself in his desire to not embarrass himself should Snape push him away.
But the man didn't move. Instead, Snape allowed his left hand to be held close to Harry's mouth and ran his right through Harry's hair, and the young man let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.
In all his time with Sirius, Remus, and various older Weasleys, Harry's hair had been ruffled up and played with many times. He had not, however, had someone touch him the way Snape was right now.
One long-fingered hand was slowly running through his hair. Snape's thumb would trace his lightning bolt scar and then softly go through his fringe until his fingers came to the nape of his neck where they would barely make contact with his skin, causing the little hairs to stand on end. Harry shuddered each time but enjoyed the touch. Yes, he was sure no one had ever caressed him like this.
The hand that had been on Harry's mouth moved to cup his face, while Snape's thumb ran softly over his lips. The calloused thumb had never felt softer to Harry as it ran over his mouth.
Slowly, Snape cupped the back of his head while pulling his chin up to look the Potions Master in the eye. Harry looked up at Snape and smiled as he noticed the man's dark eyes shining in the firelight; some emotion contained in them that Harry couldn't quite define. Snape continued to play with his hair, and he gave Harry a very small but undeniable smile.
Harry gave a soft laugh and said, "And Remus was worried about how you've been treating me."
It was like a light had been suddenly put out without any warning. Snape dropped his hand from Harry's face and pulled the other from the back of his head. Harry mourned the loss of that warmth. Recognizing that the moment that had existed between them was now over, he got to his feet and sat on the sofa cushion nearest to the man who was now looking into the fire.
"What did Lupin say?"
Harry frowned. He tried to remember precisely what Remus had asked but couldn't remember the exact wording. He'd been too upset by his question to truly pay attention at that point. "He asked if you'd hurt me or... something like that. I can't remember how he asked it exactly but that was the general idea." Harry sighed and joined Snape in staring at the fire, the warm moment between them over for now, it seemed. "I couldn't believe he'd asked that. I mean, even when you hated me you never hurt me. You were always looking out for me. Why would he think that of you now?"
It seemed impossible, but Snape turned his head away from Harry even further.
"I've no idea."
Harry nodded, though he knew Snape couldn't see him. Snape didn't seem quite as upset as he had when Harry had entered the room but the atmosphere was still a far cry from the tenor of their usual evening chats.
Resolving not to ask the very private man what was bothering him, Harry simply sat there, hoping that his presence comforted Snape half as much as the man's did for him.
**************************
Snape quietly exited his bedroom, passing Harry who was sleeping soundly on his sofa. He quashed the urge to watch the young Gryffindor sleep a while and reminded himself of the task at hand. Harry would be awake any moment now and he wanted to return to his quarters before the young man realized he had gone.
As he entered the Great Hall he observed a small group of owls waiting patiently at the head table next to the seat where Harry took his meals. He had no doubt they carried gifts from Granger and various Weasleys, but he was more concerned with the small brown owl sitting on his usual seat, holding a plainly wrapped package. He put the required payment in the owl's pouch and sent the thing on its way.
Before leaving he addressed the other owls, saying, "Mr. Potter will not be along for some time. If you'll give me your packages I'll make sure he receives them." The owls looked at him curiously for a moment before deciding it was probably best not to argue with the man. Snape gathered up the parcels and moved to make his way back to the dungeons.
No sooner than he had turned around, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Remus Lupin walked through.
Taking his meals in the Great Hall for the past few days had been an exercise in control. It was incredibly obvious to Snape that Lupin had been trying to get him alone, ostensibly in an attempt to talk about the change in his patronus- about Harry. But Snape would have none of it; in fact it was all he could do not to hex the fool. Perhaps he was a monster for desiring a young man so pure but his affairs were surely none of Lupin's business. He had returned any glances Lupin sent his way with a glare of his own; he'd not have the wolf subjecting him to an inquisition in his own home.
Snape passed Lupin with the barest of nods, but was stopped before he could exit the hall by a hand on his shoulder.
Had Snape not had his arms full of packages he'd have forcibly removed the unwanted appendage from his person. As it was he was seriously considering levitating the packages so he could do so now.
"Are those for Harry, Severus?" The question was harmless but the tone conveyed far more than the words the man was saying.
Snape glared at the hand on his shoulder but Lupin did not remove it. "I suggest you unhand me, Lupin, before I remove it myself." Remus lifted the hand from his shoulder but did not move away. Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, they are for Potter. I was simply retrieving my own package and thought to bring these atrociously wrapped parcels down with me." Snape glared at the other man, daring him to speak.
Remus nodded but did not turn away. "You and I need to speak, Severus."
Snape merely lifted an eyebrow in response then turned and walked away.
********************
Harry woke up on Snape's couch in his sitting room, and sat up quickly upon realizing today was July 31st, his seventeenth birthday. It hardly made a difference, really; having stayed at Hogwarts all summer, his use of magic hadn't been restricted as it usually was. Even though he'd already been living like an adult for several months, the thought that he was now of age brought a smile to Harry's face.
Harry stood up and walked over to the Potions Master's door to use his bathroom. He knocked once to make sure he wasn't disturbing the man, then entered. The room was brightly lit, and Harry took that to mean that the man was up and seeing to his own morning routine. Harry paused, however, as he noticed that the door to the bathroom was open.
Crossing the room quickly, he determined that the man wasn't in his room at all. Frowning, Harry went into the sitting room and then Snape's office but could not find him. He frowned and was about to assume that the man had gone to breakfast without him when suddenly the man in question entered the room holding several packages.
"Good morning, Potter. I see you've decided against being a worthless lay-about after all."
Harry smiled. "Good morning, Snape. What've you got there?" Harry peered curiously at what Snape held in his hands.
"Several owls were pecking at the head table in the Great Hall this morning. It seems as though they were looking for you. I took the liberty of collecting their fares so they would cease to be as large a nuisance as their masters."
Harry laughed and sat down on the sofa. His eyes scanned the gifts in Snape's arms and one in particular caught his attention. Harry pointed to a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. All the other little packages were gaily wrapped with little notes attached to them and Harry thought that if Snape were going to give him a gift, it would be wrapped just like that one. "Can I see that one?"
"Ah, this. Surely you'd like to open one of these... obscenely wrapped monstrosities first?" Snape held the brightly wrapped packages at arm's length as though the festive paper were insulting him personally.
Harry shook his head and took the brown package from Snape's hands. The Potions Master sat down next to him on the sofa and looked over his shoulder as he unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a black box.
Harry opened the box and peeled back some tissue paper, revealing a very lovely pair of gloves. Dragon hide gloves, Harry mentally amended. He ran his hands over the tough fabric and smiled. Then he looked up at Snape to offer his thanks.
"Do not thank me, Potter. I simply mean to make use of your services in brewing some of the more highly volatile potions on the Order's list. You will require thicker gloves than those you have worn in the past if you'd like to keep your hands. You do realize you'd need them if you wish to continue chasing that infernal snitch of yours this year?"
Looking down at the black gloves in the box, Harry felt something stir inside of him. He briefly recalled the dream he'd had the first night he'd come down to Snape's rooms, and the fear he'd been feeling for weeks. He'd been so afraid when he had first come down to the dungeons, so terrified that Snape would have him leave just as he was finally beginning to feel right again. He picked up the gloves and put them on his hands, smiling.
Snape was keeping him.