Part 1

He looked back at Ron and shrugged. "I mean...."

"Yeah. We're sure. We've already been over this." Ron sounded resolute as he continued to stir the mixture. "Hermione should be back in a couple of minutes. With the last of the ingredients."

"I can't believe she agreed to steal them from Snape."

"Well, it's not like she hasn't done it before. Besides, it goes to show how much she believes in what we're doing." Ron met his eyes, seeming to convey his surety. He glanced up to look at the clock and then started to stir the cauldron in the opposite direction, his hand moving in perfect circles.

"If we get caught, Snape will throw a wobbly. We'll all be expelled." Harry trailed off, and sighed. "Snape is looking for an excuse, you know that."

"Yeah." Ron closed his eyes and shivered. "But if this works, we'll be able to join power and defeat You Know Who, once and for all."

"Voldemort," Harry said deliberately. "We can't be afraid to say it, or he'll have won without a fight."

"I know. But I still hate it when you say his name." Ron looked chagrined and then it faded as he nodded towards the cauldron. "I wish we could have found a better one. This one is really old."

"This is the only silver-lined caldron I could find. I tried to buy one in Hogsmeade the last time we were there, but no one had one to sell."

"I know. Seems kind of odd that they are so rare. Be careful of this one. The handle is quite sharp." Ron flicked it up with his finger and it clattered quietly as it hit the rim.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the door opened. No one came in and then Hermione appeared as she drew off his invisibility cloak.

"Did you find it?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It was almost too easy." Hermione looked around and then back at them. "If I didn't know better, I would suspect something from Snape."

"What?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "He can't know."

Hermione pushed her bushy hair back from her face, and tied it with a bit of string before she approached them. "No. I know. But...."

"You're just being paranoid, Hermione," Ron said, but he didn't look like he believed it quite as much.

"He's never forgiven me." After last year, and all the problems with the Occlumency lessons, Snape had been even more foul tempered than in previous years. Part of Harry couldn't blame him -- he'd invaded Snape's privacy, but mostly he was too angry at Snape to care.

"For what?" Hermione asked, pulling the last of the ingredients from her pockets and slowly putting them into the cauldron. "Keep stirring, Ron."

"Yeah, mate." Ron looked at him. "Is there something specific that he never forgave you for? I mean, besides the obvious."

"No. Just for being me." Harry hated to lie to them, but despite how he felt about Snape, he could not, would not betray what he saw in the pensive. It was too personal. For both of them. It still hurt too badly to think about.

"Okay. It's ready." Hermione picked up a sharp looking knife from the table and muttered a few words over it. She handed it to Harry. "I've made sure it's clean. Use it to cut your palm."

"How deep?" Harry held his hand out with the knife poised over the bubbling mixture.

"Deep enough to bleed freely. We need three drops."

With a sigh, he slid the knife across his hand, pressing deeply and surpressing a wince when it hurt. The blood welled up from his hand and dripped into the cauldron. He counted out the drops. As soon the first one hit the other ingredients, the mixture started to boil rapidly.

Pulling his hand away, Harry muttered a healing charm and touched the cut with his wand. He watched it close, leaving only a thin red line as evidence.

Hermione spoke several phrases in Latin and the mixture stopped boiling and abruptly turned a murky white.

"Now what?" Ron asked, looking down at it with a grimace.

Hermione picked up the book from the table. "Now we wait exactly five minutes and then you and I drink it."

"Eww," Ron said, shaking his head. "It's going to taste terrible."

"Doesn't it always?" Harry smiled, looking at the potion. God, it looked like lumpy translucent milk, and smelled nearly as bad. His hand ached a bit, but at least he didn't have to drink it.

"What are you irresponsible idiots doing in here?" Snape's sneering voice cut through the quiet like a sword through butter. He stalked across the room, his robes flaring as he approached them. "What is this?"

Too stunned to speak, the three of them could only stare. Harry's heart pounded in terror. There was no mercy in Snape's cold black eyes.

In what seemed like slow motion, Snape's hand closed over the ring of metal at the top of the cauldron to remove it from the flame. He grunted, opening his hand and staring down at it.

They all watched as blood welled up from his palm and dripped into the mixture. For one second, no one moved or breathed. A white mist rose out of the cauldron, leaving it empty. It surrounded Harry and Snape, then it seemed to hover for a moment before sinking into them. He looked down at his robes, but there was no trace of it.

Harry exhaled sharply, trying to still his racing pulse with slow deep breaths, trying to tell himself that it meant nothing. Knowing in his heart that he had more to worry about now than being expelled.

Staggering backward, Snape's eyes were wild. "What have you done?" He stood very still, clearly trying to calm himself, too. His voice was deadly as he asked again, "What were you trying to do? What spell did you cast?"

Closing her eyes and then opening them, Hermione sidestepped towards Harry. "We were creating a binding spell so that Harry could share our magic."

"Which spell?" Snape's tone was still deathly calm and all the more frightening for it. "What did you use?"

"Socius-Vinculum," Hermione said. No one dared move as she explained what they had done. Snape's face became more chalky as she spoke. Harry's fear level went up another notch.

"You fools! You utter imbeciles! Do you have any idea what you've done?" The rage in his expression was terrifying, but worse than that was Snape's underlying fear.

He risked a glance at Hermione and Ron. They were both were looking like Harry felt. And there were no words to describe his horror.

"We were trying to help Harry," Ron said, squaring his shoulders for battle. Even at sixteen, he was as tall as Snape and wider through the shoulders. "We didn't want him to have to face... You Know Who... by himself."

"In your overly simplistic vision, you decided to bind yourselves to him." Snape's voice rang with scorn and disgust.

"We were going to drink it, not..." Hermione started to say, but Snape's glare cut her off.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" Snape yelled at them, and then stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Actually," Harry said, having had enough of Snape's accusations. If he were going to be expelled, he might as well go down fighting. "You did it to yourself. I mean, they were--"

"Do shut-up, Mr. Potter." Snape's tone was ever so slightly more restrained than it had been when he'd addressed either Ron or Hermione. "I'll deal with you later. Right now--"

"No." Harry tried to glare at Snape and found it... he wasn't sure, but not as easy as it should have been. He felt almost reluctant to do it. Something had changed and that scared the life out of him. What had they done? "What?" He couldn't find the words to phrase the question.

"I said to be quiet." Snape didn't look at him. "We will need to see the Headmaster, but right now, I need to understand exactly what Miss Granger has done to me."

"It wasn't just her," Ron said, glaring back at Snape. "It was all of us. Together."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, of course it was." Snape folded his arms over his chest and sneered at Ron, turning slightly to encompass Hermione in his look as well. "You'll all be expelled for this I'm sure."

No one said anything. Harry knew he was right. They'd made a hash of things. Even as forgiving as Dumbledore was, he wasn't going to excuse this.

"Now, Miss Granger," Snape breathed, his tone almost silky. "You will explain where and how you got the ingredients for this," he waved his hand at the now-empty cauldron, "mess." Her eyes flat with dislike, Hermione shook her head. "No. I won't."

"Shall we all go to see the Headmaster, then? I'm sure he won't mind being awakened at this hour of the morning." Snape smiled at them. It was not a pretty smile.

Harry, Hermione and Ron waited outside the Headmaster's office while Snape talked to Dumbledore. It annoyed Harry mightily that they weren't even allowed to defend themselves. Yes, it was wrong that they did it in secret, but it wasn't a bad idea. Maybe they shouldn't have stolen Snape's supplies, but they needed them. It wasn't as if Snape would have helped them.

"Do you have any idea what they have done?" Snape's raised voice startled them. The reply from Dumbledore was more subtle and they couldn't hear it.

Harry looked at Hermione and she wouldn't meet his eyes. A small shiver of concern slid down Harry's spine. He cleared his throat. "What have we done? Is it that bad?"

"It's not life threatening. Well, not exactly," She trailed off and still wouldn't look at him. "I mean--"

"What?" Ron had been very quiet through most of this. "I thought it was a sharing spell. You said--"

Hermione exhaled sharply. "If we had drunk it, it would have bound us to Harry and he would have had access to our magic. As I told you. That isn't what happened." She looked at Harry. Her eyes were sad. "Instead of Socius-Vinculum, a breakable bond with your friends, you have Sanguis-Vinculum a blood-bond with--"

"Snape." Harry wondered idly why he wasn't feeling more horror at the thought of it because some part of him thought he should be having hysterics. "What is that going to mean?"

"A very interesting question, Mr. Potter." Snape stood in the doorway to Dumbledore's office. "Very interesting, indeed. Do come in now."

Silently, they marched into Dumbledore's office and sat down in the semicircle of five chairs before his desk. Dumbledore looked... Harry wasn't sure what he looked like, and that worried him. Usually, there was some expression in his face. Now, there was literally nothing there. That could not be a good thing. "Sir?"

"We have a very serious situation here, Harry," Dumbledore said, standing and moving around his desk to take a seat with them.

"You could say that," Snape leaned against the overstuffed bookcase behind the chairs. "But it would be a vast understatement. Miss Granger," he said her name with terrible disdain. As if he blamed her more than the rest of them. "Why don't you continue with your explanation of the situation?"

Looking away from him, Hermione nodded, her face taking on a slightly pink pallor. "You and Professor Snape are now bound by a blood spell."

"You said that already. What does it mean?" Because Harry's mind was supplying more details than he could possibly live with. "Is there some way to break the bond?"

"No." Snape shook his head. He also wasn't looking at Harry. Indeed his eyes seemed to be focused inward. "Nothing that wouldn't drive both of us mad."

"Hermione?" Harry tried to focus his attention on his hands. He didn't want to look up or around. "Tell me. Please."

She sucked in a breath. "It means that you're going to share..."

Harry felt the panic rising in him again, and he tramped it down as best he could, but the idea of sharing anything personal with Snape made him want to throw up. He'd been there and done that, and really, he'd rather not do it again. "What?"

"Everything, Mr. Potter." Snape's tone should have been sneering, should have held the usual hatred and it didn't. "Quite literally, everything that you are, everything that you will become, every emotion you have." Then his voice changed, becoming an oily sneer as he glared at Harry. "Did you find the Occlumency lessons invasive? They will seem like a child's game compared to this."

Closing his eyes, Harry willed himself to stay calm and not strike out. "Surely there is something we can do. Can we fight it? Make it less intrusive somehow?"

"Unfortunately, not," Dumbledore said quietly. "As Professor Snape said, there is no way to break a bond made with your own blood, with the blood of both of you. If you fight it, it will become stronger, faster. And will move more quickly toward completion."

"Faster?" Harry shook his head, finally looking up at Dumbledore. "Completion? I don't understand."

"Of course you don't." Snape tone had almost, but not quite its usual, level of sarcasm but he was looking at Hermione. "Miss Granger?"

"I'm not sure." She looked at Dumbledore and he nodded. Her face became a deeper shade of pink. "I think they are saying that you will be soul-bound when it's done."

Harry choked back the bile that threatened to rise from his stomach. "Like married? That kind of soul-bond? To... To--" he couldn't say it. He simply could not. It was too much, too ghastly, too dreadful to even imagine.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. To me." Snape looked down at him. His cold eyes held the exact same horror that Harry felt.

Panic rose in Harry and he stood, his chair crashing back against the wood floor, grating loudly. He looked around, wanting to run, knowing he was being childish and not caring. This went beyond unfair into realms that Harry couldn't begin to contemplate.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "You will not leave here, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice was silky in his ears. "Where is that lauded Gryffindor courage now?"

Harry pulled away and straightened his shoulders, trying to glare at Snape. "I'm not running. However, it's a bit much to be told at sixteen that I've just got married. I need some time to digest this."

"There will be ample time after the explanation." Snape took a step back. "Indeed, you'll have the rest of your miserable life to digest the information."

"There's more?" Harry looked at Ron and then Hermione. Ron's expression reflected everything that he was feeling: horror, disbelief, anger, helplessness.

Hermione didn't meet his eyes as she nodded. "It's not like marriage. Not quite. It's a bond that has no... no...." Her face went to bright red and she shook her head.

"No what?" Harry asked. From her reaction, he knew this would be even more embarrassing and important.

"No sexual aspect to it," Snape ground out. Before Harry could breathe out a sigh of relief, Snape went on, "However, the bond has a secondary aspect to it that the bond creator did not anticipate."

A cold dread washed through him and Harry wasn't sure how much more he could take. "Oh, God. What?"

"The nature of the bond," Snape paused and cleared his throat, "Makes having a relationship with anyone else," he paused again, and then spat out, "difficult."

"Difficult? How?" Looking at Snape, Harry couldn't help thinking: God, he's so ugly. His hair hung in greasy strands, like it had never been washed. The color in his face was somewhere between chalk white and pasty yellow. His fingers were stained. There was nothing to recommend him at all. Harry was nauseated by the idea he was... married to him. With a shudder, he focused back on the conversation. "Why aren't you as upset as I am? Do you want this?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I can assure you with all sincerity that I do not want anything to do with this travesty. Or the child who perpetrated it upon me. That would be you, in case you didn't realize." Snape frowned at him.

It was disconcerting. "Then why are you being so... so... nice." Well, nice wasn't exactly the right word for Snape's attitude, but saying something like, less awful than usual, probably wouldn't go over well with Dumbledore. He didn't care what Snape thought particularly.

"This is not nice, Mr. Potter. I am not nice." Snape glared at him. "I am certainly not nice to you. I am, however, trying not to fight the bond. Something I think you should take into account or this will become infinitely worse than it already is. Not that I can see how it could be any worse. However, I do not wish to find out I am wrong."

Shivering slightly, he was afraid that Snape might be right. "Why will it be difficult to... um... have a relationship with anyone else?"

"The bond will force us to be close to each other. In ways that lovers are close." Snape said it as if it were the most appalling thing he could imagine.

Strangely enough, that reassured Harry. He didn't sound like he wanted it any more than Harry did. "You said no sex." Harry forced himself to meet Snape's eyes when he said it. God, he could not think about that in any context. It was simply too awful to bear.

"Yes. There is no sexual pull in the bond, no compulsion." Snape sent a pleading look to Dumbledore.

"However," Dumbledore added. "When one person is very close to another person, they can, and often do, develop sexual feelings for each other."

So for all intent and purposes, he was married to.... It was too much. There had to be something they could do about it. Harry backed away from them all. "I have to go now."

"We are not done yet." Snape hovered near him, but thankfully, did not try to touch him in any way. "There is the matter of punishing what the three of you for what you have done."

Ron and Hermione looked up at Dumbledore. "Sir," Ron said. "We were only trying to help Harry. If he," he nodded his head towards Snape, "hadn't interrupted, we would have been fine."

"Mr. Weasley," Snape looked and sounded perfectly normal now, "do not try and weasel out of this." Snape smirked unpleasantly. "If you and Miss Granger and --" he drew a breath and then went on, "If the three of you had not been breaking at least half a dozen rules, I would not have interrupted you. I think those two should be expelled."

"No." Harry stood up straighter. He wasn't very tall, certainly not as tall as Snape or Ron, but he drew himself up and met Snape's eyes. "The three of us are together in this. You can't expel the two of them without me."

"The Headmaster may do as he sees fit," Snape snarled, not looking at Harry.

"As such," Dumbledore said, "I think that you three need to think about the long-reaching consequences of your actions in the future."

"But sir," Hermione protested, "we couldn't have known this would happen. I mean, how likely was it for Professor Snape to catch us and cut his hand and bind with Harry?"

That could only happen to him, Harry thought morosely. Why was it always him? "She's right, sir. I mean, this is a ludicrous situation."

"That may be, but you are all responsible for it. If you had come to me--" Dumbledore met Harry's eyes, "I would have told you this was possible." He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger knew it, too."

"Yes, sir. But--"

"No buts." Dumbledore's tone brooked no arguments. "20 house points apiece and a week of detention for all of you. Harry with Professor Snape. Miss Granger with Professor McGonagall and Mr. Weasley with Professor Sprout."

"What? Very well, sir." Snape looked like he'd swallowed something bitter, but he said nothing more.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all looked at each other. At least they weren't expelled.

Snape turned to Dumbledore as the three miscreants left the Headmaster's office. Even with their heads bowed, he knew they were less than repentant. "60 points and a week's detention, Albus? I find it impossible to believe that you let them off so easily. They should have been expelled."

"To expel Ron and Hermione, I would also have had to expel Harry." Dumbledore's look was slightly exasperated as he picked up a tea pot and filled his cup. "Do you want more tea?"

"No. Thank you." Snape tried to sound polite even though he wanted to kill something, preferably something small and fluffy. "I don't care if he is expelled. In fact, for what he's done to me this time, he should have been--" He couldn't finish the sentence. He wanted to, wanted to say that Harry should have been expelled, should have got a lot worse than that, but the words would not come out of his mouth. Another shiver passed down his spine.

"Exactly." Dumbledore turned to look at him, holding his teacup and saucer. "Do you understand the effects on you both over the next several months?"

"Of course, I do." In theory, anyway. He suspected it was going to be a lot worse than he was imagining. The very idea of being bonded to Harry bloody Potter made him sick to his stomach. "It's going to change how I deal with that brat."

"More than that, Severus. It's going to change you. And him." Taking a sip of his tea, Dumbledore frowned. He set it back down, and added several more spoonfuls of sugar.

"Oh Merlin, how can you drink it that sweet?" Snape hated sweet tea. Actually, he hated sweets in all forms just on general principal. "Tell me how long you think it's going to take before it takes hold and I lose who I am."

Dumbledore took another sip of his tea and sat back. The usual twinkle in his eyes was noticeably absent, and indeed his expression showed his concern. "There is every chance you won't mind as much as you think you will. You won't care you've been changed."

"I doubt that sincerely," Snape growled. "I care now. A great deal. I'd like to--" He clenched his hand into a fist and tried to force the words out again. "Teach. Him. A. Lesson."

"Do you feel better for being able to say it?" Dumbledore sounded a bit too amused for Snape's taste. "You know as well as I do that fighting this type of long term bond will only make the transition more difficult."

"You seem very calm about this, Albus." Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Calm was not something he could manage right then. Smacking the insipid smirk off Harry Potter's face rated high on his list of favored activities right then. "I don't even like the brat."

"You will come to love him. Dearly." Dumbledore said it as if it were not a bad thing. Almost as if it were something he should look forward to.

"I'd rather not." That he could have such feelings at all made his intestines want to wrap around themselves in disgust.

Smiling again, and this time it did reach his eyes, Dumbledore said, "You don't hate him nearly as much as you would have everyone believe you do."

Well, he shouldn't expect to fool Dumbledore, even if the old man didn't know half as much as he thought he did; Dumbledore did know him. "Be that as it may. I'm certain he hates me every bit as much as I think he does."

At least Dumbledore couldn't deny that. Not that it would matter if he had, nothing would change the fact that Potter, with very good reason, loathed him. "Although Harry does dislike you, that will change as well," Dumbledore said.

"I'd much prefer that it didn't." It was easier all the way around if Harry Potter hated his guts, and he could pretend to feel the same way. It wasn't as if he liked the foolish, brave child, anyway.

"As with many things, what you wish will not have anything to do with what happens." Dumbledore had a sigh in his voice. "I know this will not be easy for either one of you."

"I am aware of that." A tremor of something Snape would not acknowledge passed through him. He slouched back in his chair, his shoulders slumping down. "I fear what will happen to me once Voldemort finds out."

"I'm not sure how he would be able to do so." Shaking his head, Dumbledore took a last sip of his tea and set the cup and saucer on the table between them. "It seems to me that he would not be able to sense it from your mind. You've blocked your spying for years."

"If my attitude towards Mr. Potter changes too greatly, others will notice and report it. I am already finding it difficult to speak to him and about him as I always have. I despair to think of the future if I do come to..." the words were like acid in his throat, "...care about him."

Understanding and apprehension in his eyes, Dumbledore nodded. "You shall have to find ways to compensate for your feelings. And his."

"You do realize that even if this manages to be a slow process, in all likelihood the brat will be in love with me before he leaves school." Of all the indignities he'd been subjected to and would be subjected to, that would be the worst. The very thought of how out of control the situation could become sent a shard of pure fear into his heart.

Dumbledore stroked a hand down his beard. "Quite probably. In all likelihood, you will fall in love with him as well. It might even be sooner--"

"Please do not say that." Snape looked away, unable to meet Dumbledore's eyes as revulsion rose in his throat. To be in love with James Potter's son. Surely, after everything, fate could not be that cruel. "I don't want to think about that part." Something else occurred to him. "I swear to you I would never--"

Holding up a hand, Dumbledore stopped him before he could express the unthinkable. "I know that. I know you. I suspect that shall be the hardest part of all of this."

"Not buggering the boy? I--" Snape shuddered. "I am not a paedophile. I do not sleep with children."

"He's not a child. However, he is a student." Dumbledore's tone should have carried a warning, even a slight one, but it didn't. "I trust you will do the right thing with Harry."

Putting his head into his hands, Snape groaned. Dumbledore's trust was misplaced, Snape knew it. It hadn't even started yet, and already he'd had enough. "I do not want to have to." He looked up. "I know the basics of this situation; is there anything else I should expect?"

"Just that you will be required to spend time with Harry. Try to do so as peacefully as possible until the bond settles."

"That may not be so easy accomplished." Snape stood, wishing there were someone or something he could appeal to for clemency, but of course, there was no one.

Dumbledore looked troubled. "No. I expect that it won't."

Harry paused in front of Snape's office door, it was a few minutes before 8:00. Usually, detention was from Monday to Friday nights, but Dumbledore decided they would serve seven days. Tonight through next Saturday. He'd spent the day avoiding everyone, especially Snape. Not that it mattered since he was here now.

Gathering his courage around him, he knocked.

Snape answered promptly and beckoned him in with a nod.

Standing just inside the door, Harry looked around. It hadn't changed much since the last time he'd been in here. Thick, ugly, grey-white walls, a big desk at one end, sitting below a high, heavily leaded window, rows of common ingredients on shelves, many of which he'd chopped, diced, and mashed during previous detentions. Idly he wondered just how many detentions he'd severed with Snape over the past five and a half years.

"Sir?" Harry watched as Snape seated himself behind his desk. "What did you want me to do?"

"Do?" Snape glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why, Mr. Potter. Did you actually plan to do something?"

When Snape was in one of these moods, where his anger was barely contained, Harry had found that nothing he could say would help the situation. He took a breath and steeled himself. "Detention, sir. Aren't I supposed to do some unpleasant task for you?"

"Well, Miss Granger is studying with Professor McGonagall. Mr. Weasley is flying with Professor Sprout. Why would you think that I'd make you do anything more unpleasant than that?" Snape spoke through his teeth, but he didn't sound anywhere near as angry as Harry thought he should be. "Why should you think you'd be punished for this last little stunt?"

"Sir?" God, it was going to be like this, was it? Snape could be such an irritating bastard. "Why don't you tell me what you want me to do, and let me do it. All right?"

"No, Mr. Potter, it is not all right." Snape drew in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I want...."

"What?" Harry ground out after a pause of several seconds. He hated waiting for the other shoe to drop, hated having to even ask. "Just tell me already."

"Shut up, you brainless moron." Snape walked across the long, narrow office. He stood in front one of his shelves of potions, flexing his hands. "Let's try this again."

As he watched, Snape's fingers curled into fists, and then they released for the third time. "Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Sit." Snape pointed towards the sofa. "Now."

"Yes, sir." Harry sat with his back stiff and his shoulders straight. He was almost afraid to move lest he incur more of Snape's wrath.

Snape started to pace back and forth across the worn carpet. After a few minutes, Harry's patience was wearing thin. If he spoke, he'd bring attention back to himself, and if he didn't he might go mad from watching Snape pacing. Harry shifted and the leather of the sofa creaked.

Which was enough to settle Snape's attention back on him. "So, what shall we do with you?"

"Sir?" In the myriad bad moods he'd seen Snape in, this one was new. He had no idea what would help or hurt matters.

"It seems it falls to me to complete your education on the bond that you've forced upon me." Could Snape sound any more put upon? As if Harry had done it on purpose.

"Not just you, sir." He glared at Snape. "You're not the only one who is affected by this."

Pointing a long finger at him, Snape scowled. "You, at least, had a choice."

"I was going to bind with Hermione and Ron, not you." Harry shuddered, still not quite believing that something like this could happen. "I would never, ever, have done this with you."

"I could not agree more." Snape sneered again. "However, you certainly had more of a choice in the matter than I did."

It wasn't his fault. "You didn't have to interrupt us."

Snape sat down beside him. Running his hand through his greasy hair, Snape seemed to let some of his tension go. "We've been over this once already. We need not do it again. Let's move on to something more productive, shall we?"

Having geared up for a major row, the winds were now knocked out of Harry's sails. He was without a focus for his anger. "What would that be, sir?"

"That would be first understanding what is happening and then attempting, no matter how disagreeable it may be, to deal with it." Snape sounded nearly reasonable.

That didn't settle well in Harry's stomach. A nice Snape was an unpredictable Snape. Far too scary a concept for Harry. "Explain it to me."

Beside him, Snape tensed at his tone and then relaxed in stages. "The spell hasn't quite settled yet. It will within the next few days." Surprisingly, he spoke normally to Harry or what was as close as Snape could come to it.

A shiver rode down Harry's spine and he hid his fear behind a cold look. "What does that mean?"

"If you cease being an impertinent brat and let me explain," Snape began, but then stopped. Again, he seemed to force himself to be calm. "It means that you will start to feel a compulsion to be nice to me."

"I can't believe that," Harry said without thinking. As far as he knew there was nothing short of an act of God that could make him like Snape. Or a blood-bond, he reminded himself. His shoulders slumped. "I mean--"

"I know what you mean." Snape looked at him with annoyance in his eyes. "I agree. However, I believe this will be the first stage."

"We'll be nice to each other? It could be worse." Being nice would be okay. He didn't have to like him.

"Try and pay attention, you--" Snape cut himself off, and closed his eyes. "It will get worse. I promise you. It will get infinitely worse. The second stage will require us to spend time together."

"How much time?" He tried to tell himself that spending time with Snape wouldn't be that bad, but even as he formed the thought, he knew it would be dreadful.

"I'm not sure. The text I was reading--"

"There's something written about this kind of thing?" That didn't come out as he'd meant it. He sounded like an idiot and from Snape's disgusted expression, Harry knew what he was going to say before he said.

"You aren't that stupid, are you?" Snape shook his head mockingly. "Yes, of course you are."

Even knowing he shouldn't do it, Harry's anger racheted up a notch and his patience down one and he snapped out, "I'm not stupid and you should know it. You--"

"Do not say it, Mr. Potter. Do not." Snape gave him a warning look. "As far as I've ever seen, you're stupid and impulsive and irresponsible."

Harry clenched his jaw shut on a rebuttal and tried to remember this was a teacher, someone he needed to be respectful to, no matter how he actually felt about the prat. "Yes, sir."

"No reason to get angry at me. It's the truth." Snape sounded so perfectly reasonable again, as if it were all right for him to insult Harry.

"As you see it, sir. Not as I see it." Harry knew Snape probably thought it was his right to be rude. Nothing Harry could say or do would change that.

"What would you call last night?" Snape smirked at him, obviously playing his trump card.

Not impressed, Harry met his eyes, glowering at him with impotent fury. "I'd call it a mistake."

"A mistake you say? A mistake that I am going to have to live with for the rest of my life." Snape took another breath and suddenly looked tired. "This is not productive."

"You keep saying that." Harry stood up. If he didn't move, he'd go mad. He paced a few steps up to the desk and then back. "What's the next stage?"

"The third stage is more vague than the second one." Snape glared at him. "Sit down."

Hesitating for a second, Harry decided there was no benefit in defiance and sat. "Which is?"

"We'll start to know each other's emotions." The horror in Snape's tone matched precisely what Harry was feeling as he heard him say it.

Shuddering deeply, Harry felt panic rise in him. "Oh, God."

"Exactly. And it gets worse. We'll eventually be able to share each other's power." Snape looked properly appalled at that. "You will need to learn a great deal about control by then."

"What about you?" Harry had had just about enough of this. "You'll need to control yourself, too."

Snape gave him a completely disbelieving look. "I can already control my power, as well as my emotions."

Shaking his head, Harry couldn't help but smirk at him. "Really? I hadn't ever noticed that you could control that temper of yours."

"Ill-mannered brat," Snape snarled. He opened his hands and closed them again into fists. "Just be quiet and listen for once in your misbegotten life."

Harry was no longer in the mood to listen to the insults or anything else Snape might have to say. "Nice from you might be an interesting change. You certainly don't know anything about how to go about it, do you."

"Despite what you obviously think, I am trying." Snape took another breath. "You are too stupid to have any idea what is good for you, too stupid to realize just how close to the edge you are right now."

"Oh, I see you're trying so hard. You don't have any idea in the world what is good for me." Harry let out a bitter laugh. "I would almost think befriending Voldemort would be easier that this."

Turning white, Snape bared his teeth. "No, Mr. Potter. It is you who has no idea. None whatsoever."

Perhaps he'd gone too far, Harry conceded, but he could not stop himself. "No. I don't. And I don't want to. On either case."

"You're hopeless." Snape voice was soft and venomous. "Get out of here, you worthless creature. I can't stand the sight of you."

Harry fled.

Only to be required to return the following night.

Once again Harry hesitated before he knocked. As long as he hadn't thought about Snape, he felt okay during the day. Unfortunately, when he did let his mind drift in that direction, to Snape, he found his thoughts... he wasn't sure what the right word was, but softened came to mind. He couldn't bring up his righteous anger or hatred for Snape. It was almost as if it wasn't there anymore, but he knew it was, since he knew he still felt it.

In class, Snape had not spoken one word to him, though he'd taken points from almost every other Gryffindor in the room, much to the delight of the Slytherins. After class nearly everyone had a comment on how Snape hadn't taken points from Harry, but there wasn't much he could do or say about it.

Hermione and Ron knew, of course, and they were more than sympathetic. It was all too humiliating for words.

The door opened before he could decide whether or not to knock. "Mr. Potter." Snape just stood there, looking at him with a particularly unpleasant gleam in his eyes.

"Sir." Harry pushed past him into the room. "Do you have an assignment for me tonight?"

"Nothing more than last night." Snape sounded almost defeated and Harry wondered if he might also be confused, but decided that was unlikely.

"Yes sir." He sat down on the sofa and waited for Snape to do or say something.

Snape looked at him, and he could not meet his eyes.

"I can see you're starting to feel the effects," Snape said after a lengthy silence. There was almost no inflection in his tone.

"Yes, sir." Harry glanced up at him and then quickly away again. He didn't want to see Snape feeling the same thing he was. "It's disconcerting."

"I expect so." Snape seemed about to smile, but thankfully, he didn't.

As much as he hated to be nice, he couldn't help asking, "For you too, sir?"

Instead of an insult or a curse, which Harry expected, Snape shrugged. "Why would you think it would be different for me?"

"You're older. I thought maybe you could fight it better than me." Perhaps that was wishful thinking, but if Snape could fight it, then maybe he could, too.

"There is no fighting. I've told you that already." Snape opened his mouth to continue, and then did not.

Somehow, that made Harry feel a little better. "How long does each stage last?"

"Finally, an intelligent question." Snape's tone wasn't harsh, indeed it was nearly pleasant. Or what passed for it from him. "Unfortunately, I don't know the answer."

"What?" Harry glared at him, annoyed. "How could you--" he cut himself off as his anger faded away to nothing. "What just happened?"

Snape shook his head, looking rather smug. "You were angry and the feeling went away?"

"Yes."

"What did I tell you yesterday?"

Bloody hell. "When the bond settled that I would not be able to stay angry at you."

"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor for finally getting an answer correct." Snape looked absolutely appalled by what had come out of his mouth.

"You're joking?" Harry felt all the blood drain out of his face. He could not believe that just happened. "In the five and a half years I've been here, I've never seen you give house points to anyone other than Slytherin."

"I don't. Unfortunately, once it's said, it's done." Hanging his head, Snape sighed dejectedly. "This will be much worse than I imagined."

Harry almost felt sorry for him, but after a moment's consideration, he decided the git deserved it. Then he rejected the thought and sighed. "People will know."

"That is going to be the greater problem of this. We are going to need to work together so that my true allegiances are not discovered." Snape seemed worried as he glanced at Harry. "It also goes without saying that this bond must remain a secret."

"I'm not sure how we're going to do that," Harry said. "You just gave me house points. Can you take them away?"

Snape started to speak and then stopped, shaking his head. He looked resigned. "Apparently not."

Harry smiled at him.

"You're too much the Gryffindor to use this against me." Snape sounded very sure of that.

Opening his mouth to disagree, Harry found it was true after all. Bugger. He supposed that Snape knew him well enough by now to be assured. "I wouldn't do that."

Instead of saying something scathing, or even looking smug, Snape merely nodded. "It isn't even part of the bond."

"Speaking of the bond," Harry asked. "Why does it do this in stages? I mean, why not get to where we can share magic immediately? I would have been able to share Hermione and Ron's magic after they drank the potion."

"The bond, the blood bond part was originally to produce trust and loyalty between warring wizards." There was a touch of irony in Snape's voice that Harry could appreciate.

"Not unlike us." Harry looked at him. "Why would they do it? Agree to the bond, I mean?"

"No. Very astute, Mr. Potter. Not unlike us at all." Snape turned his head away, but not before Harry could see him fight a smile. "The reason they did it was simply that they were usually forced to it by someone else. An elder in the family, someone of higher rank.

"It was found over time that if the wizards were forced to that intimacy too quickly it was found they could and did destroy each other. They needed time to adjust to the idea. So the bond was set to work in stages."

"Why didn't we know about it?"

"If you will remember, Miss Granger did know about it."

"She didn't mention it." Harry wondered about that, but it was too late to worry about it now. Maybe he'd ask her later. "Why isn't more known?"

"Because it fell out of use with most blood magics. Once set, the bond is irreversible. It's carried by the blood. Blood magic is the strongest of all kinds since it is bound by our blood." Snape looked at him seriously. "Be very grateful that the spell wasn't a love spell."

Harry shuddered and couldn't meet Snape's eyes. If he was going to end up... "It's not much better."

Snape folded his arms over his chest, but instead of looking menacing, he looked like he was trying to protect himself. "Would you care to have added a sexual compulsion to what you are feeling now?"

"No." Harry looked away. Seeing Snape as anything other than his nemesis bothered him in a way he could not explain. Like last year, when he'd felt sorry for the bastard for the way his father and Sirius had treated him, he hadn't known what to do with those feelings, so he'd brushed them away. It wasn't going to work anymore, he suspected. "But you said..."

"That it is likely we will develop..." For a moment, Snape looked uncomfortable, but it was so brief that Harry thought he might be imagining things. "As I said, that is the secondary component of the bond. It is very likely we will..."

"Will what?" Focusing on what Snape was likely to say, Harry felt his stomach roil at the implications. Still, he had to hear it. "Tell me please," Harry said, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable.

"We will find that, over time, we will form a deep attachment to each other." Snape's voice was quiet, and he sounded every bit as disconcerted as Harry felt.

"Do you even have those kinds of relationships now?" Harry couldn't imagine anyone wanting to sleep with Snape and the idea that he might want to -- even in some dark and distant future -- nauseated him.

"How dare--" Snape closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the anger Harry knew had been there was gone. "Yes. I have had those kinds of relationships in the past. Do you find that so hard to believe?"

Some part of Harry didn't want to answer, didn't want to be unnecessarily cruel. "Yes," he said, despite his reluctance.

Snape didn't look upset or surprised by the answer. "Did you feel compelled to answer and to be truthful?"

"Yes. Is that the bond working?" Oh. Bloody hell. Harry closed his eyes, considering what that could mean in his life. A fine trembling raced through him. "I won't be able to lie to you?"

"Nor I to you." It surprised him that Snape would volunteer such information. Maybe the bond forced him as well.

They were even, then. It wasn't as bad as Harry expected it might have been. He'd be able to give as good as he got. "That could be interesting."

"No doubt. However, you might wish to think twice before asking me anything if you do not wish to know the unvarnished truth." There was a definite warning in Snape's expression.

That wasn't a bad idea, Harry conceded with a nod. They remained silent for a long time after that. Finally, Harry was released to go back to his dorm. He had a lot of thinking to do.

Part II

"Harry," Ron called as he caught up with him right before lunch. "I heard Snape gave you a month's detention?"

"Yeah." He pulled Ron off to one side and let several students pass them. "Dumbledore thinks we need to spend time together to get to know each other."

Ron looked properly horrified. "Bugger. That is so unfair."

"Tell me about it. But it's happening between us. I mean, I can't even think about him without wanting to be nice to him," Harry said with an over-dramatic shudder.

He stopped as two more students passed them. One of them gave Harry a strange look. "We should go outside."

Looking around at the rest of the students milling about, Ron nodded. "Yeah, no privacy here, mate."

They were silent as they made their way out to the lake.

"You were saying about being nice to Snape?" Ron said, sounding as if he could not believe it.

Well, Harry found it hard to believe even as he was feeling it. "It's the bond. I can't say or even think anything against him. Nor can he say anything to me. He gave me house points a couple of days ago."

"God, you know, I saw that. I thought it was a mistake." Ron scratched his head. "Blimey. This must be driving you mad."

"It is. I remember how much I hated him, but I don't feel it any more." Harry looked out at the lake, fancying he could see the giant squid moving just under the surface. "I only feel..."

"What? I mean, how could it change so quickly." Ron shook his head. "No, I know. It's the bond. Do you think..."

"Think what?"

"That you're going to...." Ron's face went red and he looked away. "You know."

"God, I hope not. But already the idea doesn't make me sick any more." Harry didn't want to discuss this, not right now. It was still too close. "Let's fetch some lunch."

"I'm sorry." Ron put a hand on his arm. "I mean it. This is as much my fault as it is anyone else's."

"It's either all of our fault, equally, or no one's. We did this together." Harry shrugged, hoping he looked more careless than he felt. "We can't assign blame now."

"Are you sure?" Because Ron looked like he might be willing to shoulder it, if Harry should ask that of him.

Harry shook his head. He wouldn't do that to Ron or Hermione. "No. It's done. For all that I wish it could be, it's not going to be undone. So...."

"So, you're going to have to live with it." Ron stepped back. "No matter what happens, I'm still your friend."

"Even if..." Harry could not put his worst-case scenario into words.

"Even then. You're my best mate." Ron knocked his shoulder into Harry's. "Come on, we should go get lunch before it's all gone." Smiling at him, Harry was damned grateful to have him as a friend.

Every night for the next several weeks, Harry went to Snape's office between eight and midnight. If someone else was serving detention, which thankfully wasn't that often, he was required to serve it with them, chopping, dicing, mashing or otherwise preparing potion supplies. The injustice of it did not escape Harry's notice.

Mostly, however, he spent his time sitting on the battered leather sofa in Snape's office, doing his homework.

The bond was satisfied with them in the same room without requiring more interaction than that. It suited Harry very well. He hadn't cared enough to ask how it suited Snape.

Although he tried hard not to think about Snape in any context, Harry knew he did not hate him anymore. As appalling as it was to admit, even to himself, some small part of Harry had begun to think about reaching out, to get to know Snape, to find out what made him the way he was, to find common ground between them. Harry could and did ignore the inclination, but each time they sat together, night after night, the idea grew infinitesimally in his mind.

"Um..." Harry cleared his throat. They had spent yet another evening in total silence, and he was about to go mad from the lack of sound. "You haven't spoken to me all week in class."

"I have nothing to say to you." Snape's tone grated against him like sandpaper on silk, catching and pulling. "Did you require something? Conversation?"

"No." Harry shivered. He would have liked a better explanation. The silence was too much. "Do you want to... ah... talk about... anything?" God, he wondered if he could sound any more lame than that.

"No," Snape said harshly, but there was something more in his voice. What it was, Harry wasn't sure, but more than just a simple denial.

"Why not?" Harry could almost feel that Snape did want to say something.

Meeting his eyes, Snape exhaled audibly. "Because, I can no longer speak to you without giving myself and my feelings away."

He opened his mouth to ask, but decided he wasn't ready for the answer yet. "Oh."

"Articulate, as always." There was no sarcasm, no rancor, no anything behind the words. Snape's expression was mild. "Thank you for not asking."

"You're welcome." Harry tried to hold back a smile and couldn't quite manage it. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Neither do I, Mr. Potter. I suspect these ignominies will come, one way or another. No matter how much we wish they would not." Snape's demeanor was, if not exactly friendly, then certainly not hostile either.

The whole conversation was starting to make Harry nervous. "Do you still want to humiliate me?"

Pushing his lank hair away from his face, Snape shook his head. "I can remember what I felt before, when I took great joy in it, but I no longer feel that way."

"Me neither." Harry wasn't even sure he wanted to feel that much hatred for anyone. Some part of him still blamed Snape for Sirius' death, and a host of other crimes, but he couldn't muster the anger. It was as if all the intensity of his negative emotions had been bled out of him, leaving only the husk, and the memory. "Has anyone said anything to you about it?"

"About what?" Snape asked, putting down his quill and gathering the papers he was working on into a pile. He focused on Harry.

Which Harry found more than a little disconcerting, but then, no more than anything else that had happened. "About the fact you're not speaking to me in class."

Snape actually chuckled, his eyes truly holding a trace of humor. "I've told anyone who dared to ask, and few are brave enough to do so, that I can't tolerate your insolence any longer."

"They accept that?" Harry found that hard to believe. "I mean, you didn't have to let me into advanced potions."

"I could hardly have kept you out with your OWL scores as high as they were." He said it matter-of-factly, as if he were the most fair and reasonable of teachers.

That went against every single thing Harry knew about Snape, but instead of being able to dwell on it, he had to move past it without consideration. "Would you have, if you could have?"

After a moment's hesitation, Snape shook his head. "No. Probably not. Anyone who does well enough on their OWLs has a right to be in my class, even if I don't like it."

"Nice to know you're fair about something," Harry said before he could pull the words back and regretted them as he saw something akin to pain cross Snape's face.

"Life is not fair, Mr. Potter. I would have thought you'd realize that by this point in your life." Snape's tone had taken on a churlishness that had been absent earlier, but it wasn't what Harry had come to expect when Snape was angry.

Almost before it could manifest itself, Harry's annoyance died out again, disconcerting him. "No," he said quietly. "I realized that a very long time ago."

"Ah. Tell me about your life in with the Muggles." Snape's dark eyes were clear, with even a hint of curiosity in them.

If there had been a sneer or even the slightest bit of mockery, Harry would have bristled and refused to answer. As hard as it was to believe, Harry could see he actually wanted to know and for some reason, Harry wanted to tell him.

"They didn't want me and made sure I knew it from the time I was old enough to understand such things." Harry didn't know what else to say about it. "Dudley was their son. He got everything."

"You received nothing?" Again, there should have been a sneer in his tone, some kind of ridicule. It was as if Snape knew this was the truth and accepted it.

"Nothing first. Nothing Dudley wanted. Nothing I wanted. After a while..." Harry looked away, a wave of bitterness crashing through him. "I stopped--"

"What? Asking? Wanting?" Snape looked over at him with startling sympathy in his eyes. "Didn't you resent it?"

"I just wished that --" Harry took a breath. "I never understood what it was about me--" He stopped, unable to go on. The bond compelling him to answer and he didn't want to sound more pathetic than he felt. Looking at Snape, he found wasn't above begging. "Please. I can't --"

"Then don't." Rising from his desk, Snape moved to sit beside him. Close, but not touching him in any way. "You have every right to be angry with them. To hate them."

Harry closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the pity in Snape's expression. "I don't hate them. I want to. But I don't. They don't owe me anything."

"Oh, but they do, Mr. Potter. They are your family and they have treated you abysmally." Snape sounded angry on his behalf.

Some part of Harry appreciated the sentiment, more than he could find the words to say. However, he still hated to talk about the Dursleys. "What about your family? What were they like?"

"I have little family left. A few distant cousins." Snape looked away and something crossed his face that Harry could not begin to fathom. "All of whom are in league with Voldemort and I don't see them."

"Don't they think you're part of that circle, too?" Harry would have thought that would make Snape more acceptable to them.

His manner changed to disdain. "Yes. That does not make them care for me nor me for them."

"Oh." Harry felt a ridiculous urge to put his arms around Snape and offer what comfort he could. He looked away instead. "Neither of us has much in the way of family, then."

"It would seem not. You seem to have chosen your family from amongst your friends." For some reason, Snape didn't sound like he disapproved as much as Harry would have expected.

"The Weasleys sort of adopted me." While they drove him mad on occasion, Harry loved them all dearly. It surprised him that Snape could understand that.

"Such that they are." Snape did manage to sneer, but it sounded a little too good-natured to truly have the desired effect.

"Oi. None of that. They are good to me. Mrs. Weasley gave me my first real Christmas present." She also was the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother. Nothing had touched him more than her and Charlie showing up two years ago at the tri-wizard tournament.

"The famous jumpers?" Snape had a smirk on his face, but it wasn't unkind. "Surely you've had better than that?"

"Not before I got the first one. I got a fifty pence piece from the Dursleys that year. I think they thought they were being generous." Harry could hear his bitterness in the words, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to mute what he was feeling when talking to Snape. "Perhaps we should go back to not speaking to each other?"

"I don't know that we can. We've pushed it as far as it will let us, I think." Snape didn't sound as if he wanted to go back to silence now that they'd managed to move past it.

Harry was afraid he was right. The truth was that he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to that either. He was... curious about Snape. "What are we going to do about class?"

"I'm going to continue not to speak to you, and you will do the same. I'll also continue to give you detention."

Just when he thought Snape might be human, he said something that reminded Harry of every bitter feeling he'd ever had. "I have no say in this?"

"Do you wish to have a night off?" There was that look of... almost concern in Snape's expression.

He couldn't believe it as his option reversed itself again. If Snape didn't stop changing so fast, Harry was sure he'd be dizzy by the end of the evening. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen Hermione or Ron at night for more than a month."

"Perhaps I should give you all a detention?" He looked like he liked that idea a lot.

"I'd rather have a couple of nights off." At Snape's expression, Harry smirked at him. "You don't want to do that? God, you're starting to like me, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid that happened sometime ago." Something in the way Snape said it made him wonder.

His smile got wider. "Tell me when?"

Shaking his head, Snape looked... could that be embarrassed? "I'd rather not answer that."

Even though he knew he should, Harry couldn't make himself let it go. He wanted to know. "Oh, I think you should tell me."

"Fine, brat." He said it kindly and he had that almost smile on his face again. "Sometime in your fourth year."

"Really? You still treated me like crap." Harry glared. He knew he should be annoyed by that, but Snape's sheepish look was... something he could not describe. "Especially after last year."

"You deserved it after..." Snape trailed off and looked away. "Why would I do anything differently? I have a reputation to maintain, and suddenly deciding you were slightly more tolerable than I had originally thought is not a reason to stop acting as I had." Spoken like Snape of old. But he added, "It would have drawn too much attention to me, to us."

That did make sense, in a Snape kind of way. "You're treating me differently now."

"Worse, by most people's standards."

Harry nodded. He supposed that having a teacher not speaking to him would upset him greatly under other circumstances. "I expect you're right. About that night off?"

Looking at him almost dolefully, Snape nodded. "I'll give you a few days before the next detention."

"I suppose that's as good as I can get." Harry was pleased that Snape was going to be decent about it after all, but he was still annoyed to be getting more detentions for no reason.

"Trust me. You don't want to go too long." There was something too knowing in Snape's look and Harry could tell that wasn't a good sign.

"Or what?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you truly wish to find out?"

Part of him did, and part of him knew it wouldn't be good. "What will happen?"

"I think you'll be compelled to seek me out, to spend time with me as we have been. The bond may invoke a compulsion to do it."

"That's what I thought." Harry shuddered. "Give me a night or two, okay?"

"As you please."

After the animosity between them, no one found it that unusual that Harry spent the last two months of his sixth year in detention with Snape. Sometimes they talked, and sometimes they simply sat with each other. Harry stopped thinking about how much he once hated Snape and started to think about how much he enjoyed his company.

That the bond was causing this change was not a question, Harry understood that, but he didn't care any more. It was good to have someone to be with whom he knew wanted him, even if it were the bond causing it.

The school term was about to end for the summer and Harry was faced with a forced separation.

"Tell me again why I can't stay with you this summer?" Harry knew he sounded petulant, but the thought of the Dursleys made his stomach turn over.

"Because you must go back to them at least for some part of the summer." While Snape's tone was patient, there was ever so slight an edge of warning to it. He wouldn't be pushed on this.

Harry had heard this before from Dumbledore. His mother's family and the supposed protection of his mother's love for him. Part of him wanted to believe in that, but he knew the Dursleys too well. "Well, they certainly don't protect me."

"How bad was it last summer after half the Order threatened them with bodily harm?" Snape asked, his expression showing his concern.

"Not as bad as it had been, I'll grant that." Harry conceded to himself that it could have been a great deal worse. "They didn't speak to me."

Snape looked at him and grimaced. "I expect that is better than active hostility?"

"Only slightly." Harry sighed louder, knowing there wasn't a choice here. "If I must."

"I am afraid you must. I promise I shall see you after a few weeks have passed." He made it sound like an oath.

Smiling, Harry glanced at him, playing his one trump card. "What about the bond? Is it going to let us be apart for that long?"

"We shall see, won't we?" Snape didn't sound very happy about it either.

"I don't think it's a good idea." Harry felt more than a little worry at being apart from Snape for any length of time.

"The reason we've spent so much time together these past weeks is to allow the bond to settle in. It should not be threatened by a few weeks of separation. It will be okay." Snape's voice was gentle and reassuring.

"Except that I have to see the Dursleys." Harry shuddered dramatically. Going back to them filled him with too many memories, all of them painful in one way or another.

"There is nothing we can do about this. You must return to your family for at least part of the summer." Snape sounded concerned about him, and Harry was pleased to hear it, even if it didn't help that much.

"I know that," Harry said, squaring his shoulders and trying to smile. He did understand, but whatever the reason, he didn't want to leave. Somehow Snape had come to mean comfort to him in a way no one else did. "Well, if you're here and I'm there...."

"We shall cope." Snape stood, motioning for Harry to stand as well. "I don't expect it will be easy, but try not to fret."

Harry looked up at him. He'd grown a little over the school year, but Snape was still several inches taller than he was. "I'll try."

Closing his eyes, Snape took a deep breath and then opened them again. "This is wrong on so many levels. I should not allow it, but...." He slid his arm very gently around Harry's shoulder and with only the faintest amount of pressure, allowed Harry to step into his embrace. Sighing softly, his head rested on Harry's. "I can't help it."

Sliding his arms around Snape's waist, Harry held on, his face buried against his shoulder. Harry inhaled. Snape smelled good, like cardamom or some other exotic spice. He wasn't sure what it was.

When Snape finally tried to step back, Harry didn't want to let go. His eyes closed tightly, trying to memorize the moment, hanging on for one more second, before releasing him.

"I shall come for you as soon as it's possible for me to do so." Snape reached out as if to touch his hair, and then pulled his hand back without making contact. He shook his head. "No. I must not."

"Why?" Harry looked at him. "I mean--"

"I know what you mean." Snape blew out a breath, his expression troubled. "There should be no contact between us."

"How can that be? I've seen teachers touch students. I mean, it's not..." Harry's face heated and he still couldn't say it. The thought didn't bother him as it once did, but he could not think about that yet. Although he acknowledged to himself, it no longer seemed completely impossible.

Snape folded his arms over his chest, and instead of it being intimidating, it seemed more a protective gesture. "It might not be sexual, but it's still inappropriate."

Harry started to reach out again, but a look at Snape's wary expression stopped him. "You've got some weird, over-developed sense of propriety, don't you?"

"This will only become more difficult over time. If I were to give in to it now, I have no hope of surviving with my integrity intact."

"That's important to you, isn't it?" Harry didn't have to ask. If he'd discovered nothing else about Snape, he knew the man had a great deal of personal integrity. Given how he'd been forced to live his life, Harry suspected that at times it was all he had.

"Very much so."

"All right." Harry stepped back, away from him, already missing the comfort of Snape's embrace. He wondered how he would get through the coming weeks. "For now."

"For now, is all you need do." Snape moved to the door. "I shall see you in a few weeks."

Harry went out the door and then turned for one more look. Snape nodded and closed the door.

Part III

With the rest of the students, Harry took the train to King's Cross Station and had been met by several members of the Order, who once again gave specific instructions to the Dursleys about his treatment. They had looked perfectly horrified, but had nodded. No doubt telling themselves that this would be the last time they were required to put up with the mortification.

The first week hadn't been that bad. The Dursleys' new policy was to ignore him completely, which suited Harry just fine. He roamed the streets during the day, exchanged notes by owl mail with Hermione and Ron, and of course, Snape. Writing to him helped, even if he didn't say much. It simply wasn't possible to put what he was feeling into words.

The second week was harder. He missed Snape much more than he'd expected. He stayed close to the house and found it harder to write to him. He did mange a few notes to Ron, but he couldn't tell him the problem.

By the third week, he couldn't bring himself to leave the house. Most of his time was spent upstairs in his room, waiting for the next meal. Nothing had been required of him, and he had no trouble complying.

His contact with the Dursleys was almost nonexistent. Dudley had left to visit a friend and would be gone for a few weeks. Vernon worked and Petunia had nothing to say to him. He had nothing to say to any of them. At some point even going down to meals became too much of an effort.

When he'd missed three meals in a row, Petunia brought up a tray and stood over him until he ate most of it. There was a bit of weird irony in the whole episode considering how many meals he'd been deprived of when growing up. She was afraid of what the Order might do if they thought she was starving him. The ache in his chest was so bad he couldn't muster much sympathy one way or another.

By the middle of the fourth week, Harry spent most of the day sitting with his legs drawn up on his bed. He'd stopped writing to everyone several days previously. The need to see Snape was no longer an ache, but a full-fledged pain that stayed with him even when he was asleep. It could kill him, he knew that, but he didn't know what to do about it, couldn't find the energy to do something even if he could think of it. He was paralyzed by the need and his own fear.

The door opened without a knock. He looked up as Petunia came in. "There's someone from that school here to see you." Her tone said she was totally horrified that anyone from Hogwarts would dare darken her door.

His pulse picked up a beat, a sliver of hope edged into his heart. Saying nothing, he simply nodded to her. She took a hard look at him, and then stepped aside, leaving the door open.

There was a sound of steps, and Snape stood in the doorway.

Harry could feel his eyes widen, almost as if he could get more of the sight of him in. God, he looked so good, standing there, dressed in Muggle clothes that fit very well. Dark grey trousers showed off his slim hips and long legs, a white shirt that stretched across his chest, and shiny black leather shoes. His hair was still lank and hung around his face, but to Harry he looked beautiful.

Every instinct Harry owned urged him to move across the room, to touch what had been lost to him. He hesitated, looking at Snape, waiting for some sign that what he'd been feeling was reciprocal.

Coming farther into room, and closing the door, Snape met his gaze. The battle was plain to see, and even as he watched, he saw Snape close his eyes and give in. Harry was across the room, in Snape's arms before he'd finished raising them.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said into his hair and it sounded like a sigh of relief.

"We're not at school. Can't you call me Harry?" The pain in his heart started to ease, and the relief made his knees weak.

"No." Snape's arms tightened, clutching him against his chest. "No. It would not be right. Don't ask that of me, not yet."

"You know what's coming though, don't you?" Harry knew it was pretty much inevitable now. It would be okay, he knew that too.

"Come what may, we shall meet it at that time. I would not hurry it along." Snape pulled back to look down into his face. "Nothing, nothing before you leave school."

"Another whole year." Harry pressed his face into Snape's shoulder again and felt the contentment wash over him.

"You're not ready for anything of that sort yet, anyway. Give yourself some time." The sound of Snape's voice soothed something inside him.

"What about you?" Harry nudged his leg closer to Snape. No mistaking what he was feeling against his thigh. "Can you wait?"

Snape said nothing, and stepped back.

"I'm sorry. Please don't move." Harry heard the panic in his voice and didn't care. It was too soon to let go. "Please. I'm just starting to feel better."

Enfolded again in Snape's embrace, Harry closed his eyes and let Snape's scent sluiced comfortingly over him.

"When I touch you, it eases the pain?" Snape's hands moved slowly down his back. "How bad were you? I started to feel your distress these past few days, but before that, I didn't feel anything."

"Touching you does help. I didn't think that was part of bond." Harry trembled, even as the memory of the pain made him feel weak. "It was pretty bad before you got here, today, but it's better now."

"Clearly this is some aspect of it that wasn't documented." Snape's hands stilled on his back, drawing him closer. "Silly boy. If you were in pain, you should have contacted me." "I wasn't sure I should. And then, I couldn't seem to do anything." God, he hated the needy sound in his voice, but the thought of Snape leaving without him was so much worse. "Are you going to take me back with you?"

"You should be here at least until after your birthday."

Disappointment washed over him. "I--"

"However, I've got the Headmaster's permission to take you to Snape Manor for a few days." Snape sounded pleased with himself, which was fine by Harry.

The relief was nearly overwhelming, and he pressed his face further into Snape's shoulder. His voice was muffled as he asked, "You have a manor house? Like the Malfoys."

"I don't imagine it's nearly so grand." Snape's nose touched his hair again and he heard an indrawn breath. "Nor in such good repair, I'm sure."

"You've never been to Malfoy Manor?" Why he found that so surprising, Harry wasn't sure. Perhaps he'd just assumed that the elder Malfoy and Snape had been close.

"Not in many years. Why?"

"I had this idea that you and he were..." Harry trailed off embarrassed by the assumption he had no evidence in making.

"He is completely loyal to Voldemort. What idea did you have?" Snape pulled back again to look at him, incredulously. "That he and I?"

"Well...." Harry blushed. He and Hermione and Ron had gossiped about that possibility after second year when they'd seen Snape with Malfoy Sr. at the Quidditch game.

"You impertinent child," Snape said. A great deal of affection permeated his tone and Harry could not mistake the words for anything other than what they were. "As far as I know, Lucius is completely straight, nearly to the point of being straight-laced."

"And you?" Harry wondered at his own audacity.

"I?" Snape seemed momentarily reluctant to answer, but then he shrugged and met Harry's eyes. "I have always taken my comfort where I could find it."

That seemed unaccountably sad to Harry. "Why?"

Snape actually smiled at him. "Because when you look as I do, and you don't always wish to be alone, you take what is offered."

"You don't--" Harry was cut off by Snape's finger touching his mouth.

"You are hardly in a position to judge that any longer," Snape said, his voice more gentle than Harry believed possible.

Laying his head back on Snape's shoulder, Harry nodded. "I guess not. When do we go?"

"As soon as you can pack."

"Can I use magic?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No." Both the look that Snape gave him and his tone were categorically negative.

Harry knew better than to even try to answer that. "Then give me twenty minutes."

"I, however, am not bound by the same rules." Snape took out his wand. "What do you wish to take with you?"

"I'm not coming back, am I?" Harry's heart lightened at the thought. To be finally quit of the Dursleys was a much-cherished dream. "Just my trunk, Hedwig's cage--"

"And your owl?"

"When I started to feel badly, I sent her off to the Burrow to wait for me there."

"Instead of sending her to me?" He gently pulled on a lock of Harry's hair. "Which might have done you some good, if you'd bothered to think at all."

Harry hid his face against Snape's shirt. "I honestly didn't think it would matter."

Snape sighed long-sufferingly. "What else?"

He moved out of Snape's arms to kneel by the bed. Pulling up the floorboard to look in his hiding place, he felt around.

There were a few items from his childhood that he wished to have. Tokens to remind him of his life here, should he ever become nostalgic for this place. Not that he thought it would happen, but just in case. He took out a few broken pieces of toys, things he had received broken, or that Dudley had broken for him and put them into a pile with his school books and supplies.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he compressed it all into a one inch by one inch cube and handed it to Harry.

"You know, since you are of age, should take your Apparation test."

"I know. I was hoping to do that when I visit Ron at the Burrow the end of the summer." Harry looked at him as he slipped the cube into his pocket. "Is that going to be okay with you?"

Snape was giving him the strangest look. "What?" Harry asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Not exactly. I'm just not sure I'm comfortable with you asking me permission like that."

"Why not?"

Snape stopped before he closed the door and turned back. "At some point, we'll need to establish a more equal relationship."

That was very reasonable. The idea of Snape always being in charge bothered him, but some part of him admitted, at least to himself, that it wouldn't be so bad to have someone care enough to tell him what to do. "That can't happen while I'm in school, can it?"

"No." Snape opened the door. "Let's go."

Harry started down the stairs. "If you're not going to call me Harry, I guess I can't call you Severus, yet, can I?"

He heard Snape miss a step and grunt. "No. That would not be appropriate at all."

"Too bad. I'd like to call you Severus."

"Impertinent brat."

"Yeah, that would be me."

At the bottom of the stairs, Vernon and Petunia waited. They watched in silence as Harry walked to the front door. He turned back to look at them, seeing them for the miserable people they were and all of his much-thought-about blistering parting remarks left him.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Vernon asked, his tone infused with impotent rage. There was nothing more that he could do and they both knew it.

"No. I don't think so." Harry felt nothing as he turned away. Nothing at all. He wondered if there was something wrong with him that he couldn't even feel compassion for them. Turning back, he summoned a small smile. "Bye."

He walked through the door into the sunshine.

Anti-climatic to be sure, but they had to keep living that life, and he didn't. All in all, that made up for a lot.

"Well done, Mr. Potter." Snape was smiling at him, he started to reach out again, and then looked around. "We should go."

"Do you have a car or something?"

"Or something." Snape motioned him to follow him between the Dursleys' house and the neighbor on the right. He pulled a little trophy out of his pocket. "Take one end."

"Yes, sir." He did as he was told and felt the familiar pull behind his navel.

Part IV

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in front of a large, shabby-looking house.

"Welcome to Snape Manor." Snape's expression was wry as he put his hand on the door and it snicked open. "I hate this place."

"Why do you keep it, then?" Harry started to move inside, but Snape had stopped.

"Because as much as I hate it, I don't want my cousins to have it. Although, I'm sure they would keep it up better." The bitterness was clear, especially as he knew Snape was letting him hear it.

"When was the last time you were here?" Harry asked, still standing poised on the threshold.

Silent for a minute, Snape shrugged. "It's been years. We should key you to the door." Snape took his hand and pressed it flat against the wood of the door. He muttered a few words and then let go. "It should open for you, now."

Closing the door, and resetting the wards, Snape stepped back and nodded. Taking his cue, Harry pressed his hand flat against the door, and it opened.

"Very good." Snape led him in.

The walls were covered in intricately-tooled wooden paneling, and the floor was marble, but all four corners of the entry room had cobwebs at the ceiling. A dusty pedestal table sat forlornly in the middle of the room, with an ancient bowl of mummified fruit in the center.

Harry eyed a curving staircase that circled the wall of half the room. Standing below it, he could see to the third level.

"No House Elves? Hermione will be pleased," Harry said, not bothering to hide his curiosity as he glanced around. When he thought of a manor house, he thought in terms of grand and pretentious, or at least clean. The dust was thick enough to choke him.

"Should she ever come here." Snape led him into an equally dirty sitting room. Two brocade arm chairs sat before a large stone hearth. A sofa of indeterminate color was positioned near the two chairs with a shorter table in front of it.

Harry had never seen a room so desperately in need of cleaning. He sneezed twice. Turning towards Snape, he gave him a baleful look. "She's my best friend. I'm assuming that since I'll be living here, she'll be visiting me. And before you ask, Ron, too. Probably all of the Weasleys." He looked around and decided he could not even sit down without ruining his clothes. He sneezed several times and looked at Snape with runny eyes. "May I?"

"May you what?" Snape looked at the room and realized what he meant. "No. You can't do magic here, either." After a moment's hesitation, Snape raised his wand, and said testily, "Oh, all right I'll do it."

"I can breathe again," Harry said as the dust disappeared. Sniffing a few more times for good measure, he smiled. "Thanks."

"About anyone visiting here, don't you think that's rather presumptuous of you, young man?" The tone was all wrong for the words, it should have been more harsh. The light in Snape's eyes also didn't help his cause. "What makes you think we'll live here?"

"We'll have to live somewhere, won't we?" As much as he loved it, he didn't want to spend his whole life living at Hogwarts.

"I expect you're right." Snape's favored him with a wry smile. "If you'd like we can live here when you leave school."

"We'll need to clean it up first," Harry said with a smile. When Snape's gaze met his, he felt a curious warmth invade his chest at the look of indulgence. "I'm not so far out of line, then am I, sir?"

"No." Snape shook his head and held out his hand toward the archway at the other side of the room. "Let me show you the rest of it before you invite anyone over."

"What good manners you have." Although he tried to put a touch of sarcasm in it, Harry did think he had excellent manners when he allowed them to show.

"I should remind you that you are the one with appalling manners, Mr. Potter, not I. Having seen where you come from that's not surprising. Perhaps it will fall to me to teach you some."

"Do you think you can?" Harry would not take any bets on it. Aside from everything else, he believed a person needed to be taught while quite young for it to be effective.

"I can try." Snape's tone said that he doubted it would do much good.

"I suppose you can." Harry smiled at him.

His lips twitching into that half-smile he had, Snape again nodded towards the door. "Come along, now."

As Snape entered the kitchen, he waved his wand and muttered an all-purpose cleaning spell. It helped. Somewhat. Unfortunately, some tasks had to be handled individually. At least Potter would not be sneezing with the dust gone.

"Are you expecting me to help you clean up some of this?" Potter's tone said he was reluctant, but expected it that would be required of him. "I mean, manually."

Glancing at Potter and seeing his expression, Snape put down his wand and focused on him. "Why would you want to?" he asked.

Potter's eyes narrowed as if the answer took him by surprise. "You don't expect me to help you?"

"If you mean to actually do the drudgery by hand -- which is what I assume you meant -- then no. Again, why would you think I would ask that of you?"

Silent for a moment, obviously thinking about it, Potter looked up at him. "I guess since I know how, I assumed you'd want me to help out."

"You were expected to do this kind of manual labor for your family?" Snape did not like the sound of that or what it might imply. "Tell me more about living with them."

Looking away, Potter was silent for a count or two. Reluctance came off him in waves. "We don't need to talk about this."

"I think we do." Snape folded his arms over his chest and glared down at Potter. Never sure how far to push thing when talking about the Muggles who raised him, some instinct said not to let this go easily. "You will tell me."

"If I won't?" Potter mimicked his stance right down to the hard-eyed stare. "You can't force me to talk about them. They are out of my life."

"Given the bond and its effects, all I need to do is ask you the right questions." Snape knew that he'd made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

Potter's expression became mutinous, his eyes burned with outrage. "If you try, I'll do the same thing. I know there are subjects you don't want to discuss."

This round to Potter, Snape conceded, and tried a different tactic. "What they did will continue to affect you unless you talk about it." He had thought the Dursleys neglectful and uncaring, but not truly abusive. Now, it seemed that he had misjudged the situation.

"I don't need a shrink, okay?" Potter snapped, the response well out of proportion to the question. "Please just let it go."

Snape was becoming uncomfortable with tenor of the entire conversation. He wondered what he and the other teachers at the school had missed. "Unfortunately, I cannot. What is a shrink?"

"It's a Muggle term for a healer of the mind." Potter seemed to close in on himself in a way that made Snape more nervous than his anger had done.

"Ah. You would need such a creature because?" His anger with Potter's family grew. They had a great deal to answer for and Snape was uncertain how to make them pay for it, but he'd give the matter some serious thought.

"I don't need one, that's what I'm saying." Potter's expression was defensive.

Not all wizard children were cherished, he certainly hadn't been, but actual abuse was rare. He couldn't deal with Potter as he would a suspected abuse case in his house, he was too close to him. Without an incident or idea as to how to proceed, Snape fell back on the familiar. "We shall have to discuss this. I think--"

"No. Don't think." Potter turned away, his back straight and his shoulders stiff. He started for the door.

"Do not think to leave this room." Snape made it an order, not that Potter ever obeyed him, but he hoped it would convey his seriousness. "You will tell me what happened with those people."

"They made me cook and clean for my keep. They made me wear Dudley's hand-me-down clothes. They would give a list of chores to do. Sometimes they would all go off and expect them done when they got home. Sometimes it would be after I got home from school, before dinner."

Something in the way Potter said list of chores struck a cord in Snape. "What kind of chores, exactly?"

Potter gave him an exasperated look. "The usual types of things. Tending the garden, mowing the lawn, pulling weeds. Indoor stuff, like cooking, dishes, vacuuming, washing the floors, cleaning the bathrooms and the kitchen."

"All at one time?" Snape asked carefully and was appalled when Potter nodded. "How much time did you have to complete the tasks?"

Looking uncomfortable again, Potter glared at him. "Usually I had a couple of hours."

Snape hid his fury. "How often were you expected to get this list of chores done?"

"Whenever they wanted stuff done." The way he said it indicated it was not on Saturday, but during the week. "It wasn't that bad."

"What would happen if you didn't get your chores quickly enough?"

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Potter looked around. "Shouldn't we be cleaning up here instead of talking about my life with the Durselys?"

It wasn't even a good attempt at distraction, Snape thought and then focused back on Potter. "I want you to answer the question."

"What if I don't want to?" Potter sounded desperate not to talk about it.

"I should think that is an answer in and of itself, isn't it." Snape tried to keep his voice as even as possible. "They didn't feed you, did they?"

With his face red with obvious embarrassment, Potter nodded. "No. They didn't."

"You thought this was acceptable behavior from those who should be taking care of you?" Snape asked, not letting his anger show, but he was already thinking of ways he'd like to deal with those Muggles.

Shaking his head, Potter's expression was bitter, with a world of hurt underneath it. "No. I didn't like it. But I had no rights. They knew it and they made sure that I knew it, too. They never touched me, not in any way."

It hurt him to believe that Potter thought his own happiness counted for so little, but then, there had been no one to tell him otherwise. No one to rescue him from a hideous situation. In fact, there had been any number of people, himself included, who had actively encouraged that thinking.

If he allowed himself the luxury of guilt about it now, he would go mad. Pushing it away for the present, Snape glanced back at Potter. "You're wrong. They were expected to keep you safe and treat you decently."

"We've already established they weren't any more thrilled to have me than I was to be there." Harry laughed humorlessly.

"There is a big step between 'not thrilled' and abuse." Snape wanted to do something unforgivable to the Muggles. The thought of that fat man under his wand gave him a small thrill. He took a breath and exhaled it slowly. That wasn't where he needed to concentrate his energies now. The time would come, perhaps.

"What makes you think you can tell the difference? I was there, and you weren't." Potter's tone was scathing, as if he could not imagine how Snape might know such a thing.

Focusing back on Potter, Snape made an effort to speak calmly and rationally. Allowing his anger to overwhelm him would do neither of them any good. "I'm head of House for Slytherin. Do you think you are the only child ever to be treated poorly by a parent or relative? I know the signs."

"Well, you're wrong here." Potter bowed his head. "Mostly they ignored me. I never got anything from them. Honestly. It wasn't abuse, just neglect."

Putting a hand on Potter's chin, he raised his head. "You do realize that it is typical for an abused child to blame himself for what happened. Besides which, is not neglect another form of abuse?"

"No. It's not the same." Potter jerked his head out of Snape's grasp. "I don't blame myself for what they did to me, I blame them."

"As glad as I am to hear you say that, I wonder how true it is." Potter might not be able to lie to him, but he could lie to himself. However, that he could say it at all was a positive sign.

"Can we just drop it?" Potter finally raised his head, his eyes pleading. "I'm out of their house. I don't ever have to see them again."

Knowing he shouldn't, Snape put a hand on Potter's face again, carding his fingers through the messy hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "All right. I think you would benefit from speaking to someone else about this. If only to alleviate my fears."

For a moment, Potter closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. Snape's heart caught at his look of joy at being touched.

When Potter opened his eyes, he gave Snape a hard look, but couldn't seem to hold it. "All right, because you ask." Then he grinned. "You'll owe me one, won't you?"

Snape knew when he was cornered, and some part of him wanted to strike out, but even as he formed the thought, it dissipated and he gave in. "Fine, brat."

Potter leaned into his hand, smiling even more broadly.

Shaking his head, he denied to himself how good that smile made him feel. "Good enough." He extracted his hand as gently as he could. As soon as he got Potter back to school, he'd speak to McGonagall or Pomfrey.

"Can I help with the clean-up?" Harry asked, normally. As if the previous conversation had not happened.

"No. You can't do magic and I won't allow you to clean the Muggle way." Snape swished his wand in the air again and the floors and counter tops were spotless. "It won't take long for me to do this."

"The whole house is going to take a while." Potter made a point of looking around at the still dirty areas of the kitchen.

"I think we shall only do those tasks that need to be done to make the house habitable for the next few weeks."

"A place for me to sleep would be good?" Potter smiled at him. "Preferably with a large, comfortable bed."

"Are you tired?" Snape asked, looking at him and seeing the answer before Potter said anything. There were dark circles under Potter's eyes and a general air of fatigue a boy his age should not have.

"I haven't been sleeping well the last two weeks, so yeah, I am." His sentence was finished with a large yawn. "Dinner would be nice, too."

"We'll need to go into town for that." He should have planned this better, Snape decided. However, when he'd felt Potter's distress, all he'd thought about was getting to him, not about what he'd do with him once he did.

"No takeaway?" Potter's eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked smug as he asked, "Do you know what takeaway is?"

"I do." Snape smirked at him. "I'm not completely ignorant of the Muggle world."

"You'd be surprised at how many wizards are. Ignorant, I mean," Potter said leaning against the door frame and watching him clean.

"No. I am never surprised by the stupidity of my fellow wizards." Snape flicked his wand one final time and the kitchen was clean. "Let's do the bedrooms and then we can go into town for dinner."

"Good idea. We'll need supplies, too," Potter said as he opened a now clean, but completely bare cupboard. "I'm thinking biscuits, Swiss rolls and chocolate frogs all sound good to me."

Groaning softly as his stomach turned over at the thought of that much sugar and its effects on a teenaged boy, Snape put his foot down. "I think something a bit more nutritious might be more in order."

Potter made a face and followed him into the hall and up the stairs.

"You may sleep in here. My room will be down the hall in the master suite." They stood in the doorway of a room dominated by a large canopied bed. The drapes were dark blue velvet with a matching counterpane and pillows. Snape flicked his wand several times and the room was clean.

Taking the shrunken cube out of his pocket, Potter put it on the floor, looking at Snape expectantly. "How long are we going to stay here?"

"Long enough for you to get your summer homework done." He resized Potter's possessions. "About two weeks. I'll take you to the Weasleys' afterward."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to seeing them." Potter looked around the room and smiled. "What are we going to do while we're here?"

"Do?" Snape hadn't actually thought that far ahead. "There is a library. I'm going to set up my lab. What do you want to do?"

"Aside from magic?" Potter asked, following him back into the hall. "I don't know. I guess I could look around."

The master bedroom was exactly as Snape remembered it when his grandfather lived there. Dark wooden furniture and gloomy drapes and hangings. If they did return, Snape promised himself that he'd redecorate. For now, he swiped his wand in the air a couple of times and the room was passably clean.

"I know that it will be difficult for you to do, but I do want you to try to stay out of trouble while you're here," Snape said, turning his gaze back to Potter.

"I'm sure I can do that." Potter's expression did not instill confidence in Snape at all.

"See that you do. I don't want to be bothered rescuing you from some desperate situation you've managed to get yourself into." Snape looked at Potter assessing the situation. Seventeen and bored was by no means a good combination. "Perhaps you can help me in the lab."

"You'd let me?" Potter looked shocked by the request, but surprisingly eager as well.

Raising an eyebrow, Snape waited a beat. "Yes. I'd allow it. If you paid attention and did what you were told."

"I think I can mange that." Shaking his head, Potter went out the door and then looked back at him. "Dinner?"

For some reason Snape did not want to examine too closely, he could not hold back a smile. "Yes."

Severus is dreaming. He tells himself it is not real, but that does not make it any less horrible.

He is standing with a group of Death-Eaters, watching a mudblood house burn. The dark mark rises above the structure.

Three small children race out of the flames, clutching their blankets. It's cold and dark. They see the line of Death-Eaters and slow their approach. They sense the danger and cling to each other.

As he watches, someone behind him calls out, "Crucio" and the largest of the children falls screaming to the ground. She is no more than ten. The other two children try to help her, but they too are caught with curses.

He hates mudbloods. He tells himself they deserve to die, but the screams pierce the night, the children writhe on the ground, slowly dying in agony. He wants to look away, to pretend it isn't happening, pretend he isn't a part of it. He hates himself so much more than he hates the mudbloods.

One of the children finally falls silent. The other two soon follow. Another scream rips the air: the mother has been released from 'Petrificus Totalus'. Severus watches the fight go out of her as she sees her children are dead.

She is thrown to the ground and Cruciatus is cast again. Laughter rings out. She screams and screams and screams. And then she dies. Her sightless eyes are staring up at him, accusing him.

The dream changes then. Different than before. Her face morphs into another. Into Harry Potter's face. He hears Potter scream and he watches Potter die.

Severus starts to scream.

Snape's own shouts woke him from the horror of his memory. He sat up in bed with a start, breathing hard and hating himself. Merlin, he couldn't stop shaking. Putting his head in his hands, he allowed himself to weep. No matter how much time had passed, no matter what he had done to atone, those memories did not ever let him forget his crimes.

He hated himself for what he'd done, for what he'd allowed himself to do in his stupidity and hatred, and he knew he was damned.

A moment later, there were arms around him, and even though he knew he didn't deserve the comfort, he leaned into it, savoring it without thinking. He cried, breathing in and out wetly, getting his bearings back.

No doubt, Potter would want an explanation. Snape realized he'd better think of something to say and he pulled out of Potter's arms.

"Are you okay?" Potter brushed his damp hair away from his face and looked at him. "Okay. Stupid question. What happened? What upset you like that?"

Closing his eyes, Snape sucked in a breath and let it out. He wiped his face on the edge of the sheet. "I had a nightmare."

"That must have been some nightmare to have set you off like that." Potter shuddered. "Want to talk about it."

"Not with you." Snape watched Potter's face fall, and sighed again. "It's very personal. How did you get in here?"

"The door wasn't locked. Actually, it wasn't even closed all the way." Potter sat up a bit. "I heard you scream my name. Want to tell me why?"

"No." Snape looked away. He remembered the dream had changed and how. "It was... something to do with my past."

"Death Eaters?" Potter asked, his tone far too knowing for Snape's peace of mind. "Something that really happened?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"What else would make you hysterical like that?" Potter's face was flushed, and he looked embarrassed.

More than the incident warranted as far as Snape could see, more than he himself felt. "My tears have upset you?"

Potter looked away quickly, but not before Snape could see the color on his face. He put a hand on Potter's chin and moved his face back to meet his eyes. "Why are you embarrassed?"

"Men aren't supposed to cry. Not about a nightmare," Potter said, his face going redder. "I'm sorry."

Muggle societal crap. It must be. Snape tried to tamp down his anger and told himself that Potter didn't know any better. "I see. So even if the nightmare is one of the worst memories of my life, and something I regret more than I can possibly say, I shouldn't cry over it, shouldn't feel regret? I should just... what is the expression, suck it up?"

"Well no, but..." Potter looked away again. "I thought your worst memory was..."

Yes, he knew just what Potter was thinking about, even without his saying it out loud. "That is definitely one of them. This however, is worse."

"Oh." Potter seemed fascinated with the brocade of the coverlet on the bed, tracing it with his finger.

Snape watched him, trying to gauge his mood. Potter could be so prickly about some things. "You never cry?"

"Actually, I don't." Potter was telling the truth, indeed, he sounded proud of it. "I gave it up. It doesn't help with anything."

Snape shook his head. "I've always found it helpful in releasing pent up emotions. The things you can't live with."

"Do you...uh... cry a lot?" His horror at the thought came through without the bond telling him. For some reason, it amused Snape almost as much as it annoyed him.

"What I do in my own bed, with no one to hear, shouldn't matter to you in the slightest." Snape hadn't meant to sound so harsh.

"I heard it. I will hear it in the future." Clearly, that did not sit well with Potter.

Too bad, Snape thought. He knew he was too emotional. Controlling his emotions had always been a problem for him, especially his anger. He yelled and screamed and cried when he felt the need. He even laughed on occasion. "Wizards, and witches for that matter, are discouraged from expressing harsh emotions in public, but in the privacy of their own home..."

"I'm sorry." He shivered. "I'll try not to be judgmental. I knew how bad you were feeling."

"I have nightmares on occasion. It has been some time since the last one." Snape straightened his shoulders. He was not going to apologize. "I would suggest that if my emotional displays bother you, you simply ignore them in the future."

Potter looked upset at that. "I don't think I could do that. You were screaming."

"I shall put silencing wards up on my rooms." Which he should have done already.

"Don't." Potter put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I'd rather hear. Doesn't it help to have someone wake you?"

"Nothing helps." Snape remembered the comfort of holding onto someone. "Perhaps. And perhaps I don't --" he stopped before he could let those words out.

Unfortunately, Potter wasn't stupid. "You deserve comfort as much as anyone else."

"You can't say that. You don't know my crimes, Mr. Potter." Snape had no intention of telling him either. Not ever.

"It doesn't matter. I can guess." Potter tightened his grip on his arm. "I think the bond is going to make keeping secrets very difficult. All I have to do is ask you, right?"

Snape could hear that he wasn't going to ask in his tone. "You could."

"But I won't. Yet. I'll wait for you to tell me." Potter's expression was hopeful.

"Perhaps I shall tell you one day." Snape looked at Potter, who was sitting in the ruin of his bed, wearing only his y-fronts. "I think it's time for you to go back to your room."

Looking down and then seeming to realize what he was wearing, or not wearing, Potter blushed again. "Yeah." He backed off the bed. "I'll see you in the morning.

As he left, Snape let out a huge sigh. He'd have to try and control himself better from now on. Unfortunately, he already knew how effective that would be.

"What are we going to do about things?" Harry asked, sitting down across from Snape in the sitting room on the first floor. They had been at Snape Manor for nearly two weeks and he was to leave for the Burrow in two days.

"Ever so precise, aren't you, Mr. Potter?" Snape put down his book. "What are we going to do about what things?"

"School, my friends, Voldemort?" There were so many things in his life that were in flux, Harry couldn't quite process all of it. He felt as if it were all out of his control and it was, which made it all the more complicated.

"Ah." Picking up his glass from the table in front of the sofa, Snape took a long sip. "School should be much the same as it was last term. Perhaps even closer to what it should be now that I can speak to you without giving you house points or worse."

"Except, well...." Harry looked down, not sure exactly how to put it. "I can feel... I mean, you know..."

Snape looked at him intently. "Feel what, exactly?"

Harry couldn't look at him to say it. It was embarrassing to know something so intimate about Snape. He cleared his throat. "Um... I know what you feel for me. Since last week, it's more so."

"Does it bother you?" Snape's expression was bland, but Harry could tell he wasn't quite as comfortable as he wanted to seem. "Dealing with an over-emotional teacher is rather daunting, even for you, isn't it?"

"You're a lot more to me than just a teacher, and you know that." Harry met his eyes. "Don't try and make this less. I know I reacted badly. I wanted to say--"

"You did not react badly--"

"I didn't know what to do. I've never seen anyone cry like that before. Not someone--"

"In authority?"

"No. Not at all. Ever." Harry sighed. "The only time I've ever come close to crying, was after the tri-wizard tournament, but even then I didn't."

"Why not?" Snape looked at him, curious. "What stopped you?"

"The moment passed before I could react to it." Harry shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. "You're not uncomfortable about what happened."

"You can tell that?" Snape's expression was somewhere between surprised and horrified. "Can you describe what you're feeling?

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to put it into words. "It's not like I can feel your emotions, I..." He paused and thought about if for another moment. "I know what you feel. It seems to come from you rather than from me."

"Surprisingly, I do understand what you mean, despite your making a hash of the explanation." Silent for a moment, Snape seemed to come to a decision. "Tell me what you know."

"I know that you're not embarrassed that I saw you cry. I also know what you feel for me is not the same as what I feel for you." He looked at his own hands while he said it. Whether he actually believed that Snape felt that for him was another story. Wrapping his mind around the concept of Snape caring that much was hard for him. It was too easy to remember years of cruelty.

Again, Snape seemed to take this in and digest it. "No. I'm not embarrassed. And yes, I do know that what I feel is different from what you feel. It's to be expected."

"Why?" Harry thought they should be feeling the same thing. "We started at the same point."

"I'm older than you are, and I'm more inclined to accept what has happened between us. Does that bother you?" Snape's tone was honest, not at all condescending.

"Only in that I'm worried that I won't get there and you'll be hurt." It was true. He cared about Snape, would go a long way not to see him hurt.

Snape nodded. He didn't seem at all discomfited by it. "I'm not worried about that. Give yourself some time to grow up, to adjust to everything that's happened."

"I'm seventeen. Given everything I've been through, I think I'm grown up at this point." Harry felt a spark of anger ignite at Snape's words. God, he was so tired of being told how young he was.

"You were seventeen as of a week ago." Snape ran his fingers through his own hair, even away from his daily potions classes, it was oily, though not as bad as when he was teaching. "Try to pay attention, I know it's hard, but do try." He put a hand under Harry's jaw and moved his face to meet his eyes. "I would not hurt you. Not deliberately. Not any more."

"I do know that." He would know if there had been true malice. "I have noticed you've started insulting me again."

"Should I say that I'm sorry?" Snape didn't look very repentant at all, but he also didn't look antagonistic. "I would advise you to get used to it. I am not a nice man. Being nice to you was... challenging."

"It was out of character to say the least." Harry chuckled. He could live with a grumpy Snape, especially if he could see the humor and affection in what Snape said. It was pretty obvious, once he knew what he was looking for. "About school?"

"You'll return with your friends. We'll argue in class as we have in the past. I'll give you a great many detentions." Snape sounded like he liked that idea. Knowing him, he probably did. Killing two birds, as it were.

Harry, however, was not convinced that was the best way to handle things. "I want to say someone will notice that, but I don't think they will. We've never got along before. I guess it would be more out of character if we did now."

Snape nodded. "I would think so."

"What about Hermione and Ron?" Harry wondered what he could or would say to them about this. He'd exchanged notes with them both, but had been very careful in what he actually said.

"Speak to them when you see them. Things may have changed." The way Snape said it made Harry pause.

Ron and Hermione had not been that forthcoming with information in their notes either. It simply wasn't smart to say too much. "What things? Do you know something that I don't?"

Snape shrugged and clearly wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. "Are your worries about school eased?"

"And if they aren't?" Harry had a feeling he was missing something important and he couldn't figure out what it was.

"I would do what I could to reassure you." Snape sounded so sincere that some part of Harry warmed sweetly to it.

Harry put his hand on Snape's and squeezed. "You mean that. Thank you." Daring greatly, he turned his palm up, intertwining their fingers

"You're welcome. I hope in a few months that we will begin to share our magical power." Snape made that sound like a good thing and perhaps it was.

Harry wasn't sure he was ready for more complications yet. Too many things were happening at one time. "Yeah. What's happening with Voldemort?"

"Not much that I know of. I've only been summoned once this summer. I don't know if I'm out of favor or if he is planning something." Snape gently extracted his hand. "Are you almost packed?"

"Well... " Harry thought about the mess he'd made of the room Snape had given him.

"I'll take that as a no." He didn't sound overly annoyed by the idea. "However, I'm going to be taking you to the Weasleys' tomorrow rather than the following day."

"Why?" Harry was disappointed to be going early, even if he was looking forward to spending time with Ron.

"I have been asked to do something for the Headmaster." The complete lack of inflection in Snape's tone and the blank expression told Harry pretty clearly that Snape did not want to talk about it.

He shouldn't even bother to ask, he knew that, but he did anyway. "Will you tell me what is you're going to be doing?"

"No." The tone said he would not back down on it.

"Should I worry?" Harry pushed away a pang of something he couldn't quite identify.

Shape looked at him and shook his head. "Just let it go."

"All right." Harry stood and headed for the door. "I'd better go pack, then."

"Mr. Potter," Snape said. The slightest bit of uncertainty in his voice. "Do not be angry with me about things I cannot share with you. There are reasons."

Harry looked back at him. "I'm not. I..." He sighed. "I'm just not ready to leave yet."

Snape nodded once. "I know."

Part V

"Harry!" Ron said as he opened the door, smiling widely. He punched Harry playfully in the shoulder, and Harry nearly stumbled. Ron seemed to get bigger every time Harry saw him.

"We weren't expecting you until tomorrow." Ron opened the door wider to allow him through with his stuff.

"Snape had to go back to school, so he dropped me off early. Said to tell your mum he couldn't stay." Harry dragged his trunk and Hedwig's cage into the room. Snape hadn't miniaturized it for him this time. "Are you here by yourself? Where is everyone?"

"Mom and Ginny are shopping. They won't be back for a while. Dad's at work, and everyone else doesn't live here anymore." Ron grabbed the end of the trunk and helped him drag it up the narrow staircase to the fifth landing.

Once in Ron's room, which was still decorated with orange Chudley Cannons posters, they deposited the trunk beside the cupboard. Lying across the bed, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "That was a climb, huh?"

"You get used to it after a while," Ron said, sitting down next to him. "Not like I've got much choice."

Harry nodded. "When do we go to Headquarters?"

"We don't. We're stuck here for the next two weeks." Ron frowned. "What were you doing with Snape?"

"What?" Harry couldn't believe he wasn't going to be able to do anything with the Order at all over the summer. He should have talked to Snape about it, but they always seemed to have other things to talk about. "Why?"

"Dumbledore wants us here. I think something is starting to happen and they don't want to let us know yet," Ron said. "So about Snape?"

Clearly, Ron didn't want to talk about the Order, even if Harry did. "I spent the last two weeks with him. At Snape Manor."

"Snape Manor? I didn't know there was a Snape Manor." Ron's eyes got wide, and he looked aghast. "Alone? All that time?"

"Yeah." Harry wasn't sure he liked Ron's look at all. He simply couldn't be implying what he seemed to be implying.

"Did he try anything?" Ron cleared his throat, turning red. "Funny, I mean?"

Harry felt a moment's outrage on Snape's behalf, but couldn't hold it with the concern he saw in Ron's face. "Oh, God no. He wouldn't. God, he won't even call me by my given name."

Ron raised an eyebrow at that, surprised. "He won't? Even when no one else is around?"

"Especially then. Won't let me call him Severus, either." That was starting to drive Harry mad. Calling him sir or professor was surprisingly difficult when there wasn't that comfortable distance between them any more.

Ron nodded, and looked approving. "Well, I hope not. Wouldn't be right, would it?"

"Why not? I mean..." Harry lost his battle to not blush. He glanced at Ron, seeing the blush on his cheeks, too.

With a shudder, Ron's eyes showed a realization that hadn't been there before. "It's gonna happen, isn't it? You and him?"

"I reckon so." Harry still couldn't look at him. "I don't think there's much either of us can do about that at this point."

"You're not, now," Ron stammered. He took a deep breath. "I mean, are you?"

"No. Not yet. But the idea doesn't make me want to vomit anymore, either." To himself he could admit that it had been a very long time since he'd felt anything other than anticipation for what was coming. Even if he didn't quite know what it would be, he knew he wanted it

With a very over-done shudder, Ron glanced at him, his expression serious. "There's a long way from not wanting to be sick, to actually kissing the greasy git."

"Don't I know it. I'm a lot closer to the kissing, than I am to the vomiting." Deliberately, he allowed some of his anticipation into his tone. Ron needed to know he didn't have a problem with it.

Ron looked closely at him, and then grimaced. "I didn't need to hear that."

"Sorry." Harry smiled. Good to be able to surprise him once in a while.

"Have you ever?" Ron looked closely at him again. "I mean, with anyone?"

Trying not to be embarrassed, Harry shook his head. "No." He was old enough to have had more experience than he did. There just hadn't been time. "What about you?"

"Not that. But some other stuff." Ron's expression was thoughtful. "Have you done anything else?"

Shaking his head, he couldn't look at Ron. It was stupid to be embarrassed about his inexperience, but he was. "Not much."

"How can you be sure it's going to be him, then? How do you know it's even wizards that you want?"

"Since it's going to be Snape..." He trailed off, he hadn't actually considered the wizard part before. The idea in general didn't bother him.

"Do you fancy witches? I mean, at all? Are you going to miss..." Ron looked away, his face turning red again.

He thought about Cho. She was so pretty, but he didn't feel like he was going to miss anything by not kissing her again. Of course, kissing her the first time hadn't been so great. Harry shook his head. "I don't think so."

Ron shrugged. "How about... you know?"

There were some things that he knew even without thinking about them. "It's different with Snape."

"You've got nothing to judge by," Ron said, sounding concerned. "How can you know it's different?"

"Even without anything else to it judge by, I know it." There would be no explaining to anyone the feeling of Snape invading his very soul. While it was strange, it wasn't unpleasant or something he was afraid of. "I do wish I knew a bit more... about that sort of thing." Harry said wistfully.

"Do you want to try something?" There was a light in Ron's eyes that he had learned to recognize as Ron's adventurous streak. "With me?"

Rolling onto his side, Harry propped his head on his hand. "What do you mean?"

"How about I give you a bit of a snog..." Ron's expression was both eager and embarrassed. He blushed harder, rivaling his hair for color. "Just between friends and all."

"For comparison sake." However much it surprised him, Harry liked that idea. He looked at Ron, seeing him in a slightly different light than before. "Okay."

"Really?" Ron seemed surprised he agreed, but at least he didn't look any less eager. Indeed, he was looking at Harry as if he were a chocolate treat.

Harry wasn't quite sure he believed it, but he was willing to give it a go. "Okay, then. Come here." Harry laid back down flat on his back.

Ron lay down on the bed beside him and rolled over on top of him. It took a second to arrange their limbs comfortably, but the weight and the heat of Ron's body felt good.

Putting his arms tentatively around Ron's shoulders, Harry looked up into his eyes. "Now what?" Harry asked.

One of Ron's big hands, slid down his face to his jaw, and held him gently. The other hand plucked his glasses off his face, and set them somewhere out of reach.

Lowering his face, Ron's mouth brushed his. A sweet spark raced through Harry and he shivered pleasantly. It felt good, nice. Safe.

After another brush of his lips, Ron pulled back just a bit. "Okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Do it again." He closed his eyes, and tilted his head forward, allowing Ron to kiss him again. Longer this time. The intensity surprised him and he let go a shuddering breath. He liked the feel of Ron's soft mouth and the taste of tea, and the sweet pressure.

Opening his mouth, he let Ron's tongue slide in. That was nice, too. Ron's lips moved on his, deepening the kiss. Harry went with it, enjoying the physical sensations, but something was missing. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but something indefinable didn't feel quite right.

Ron pulled back, a hand stroking down Harry's hair. "Well?"

"That was nice, mate." Harry said truthfully. "I liked it. Why'd you want do it?

"I've wanted to kiss a bloke ever since Seamus tried to kiss me two years ago, and I clocked him." Ron rolled off him and settled beside him.

Harry missed the feel of someone so close, even if the body wasn't quite the right one. "Why'd you clock him if you were curious?"

"Blimey, Harry. He scared the life out of me." Ron made a face. "Snuck up on me in the showers. I was not ready for that."

Shuddering, Harry could not imagine what he might have done, but clocking the prat would have been the least of it. "Yeah. Seamus has more enthusiasm than brains sometimes."

"Anyway, I wasn't adverse to the idea--"

"With Seamus?" Harry couldn't quite picture that, not the two of them together. Their temperaments were all wrong for that sort of thing.

"Well, not with him, no." Ron's blush deepened as he went on and he shrugged. "However, the idea in general held a bit of appeal."

"Are you thinking you're gay?" Nothing Harry had ever seen pointed in that direction, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He'd not been paying much attention to anything recently.

Quiet for a moment, Ron seemed to be seriously considering the question. "No. I don't think so. Kissing you right now, was..." A blush stole across his face. "Nice, you know. But I've never felt a huge pull towards blokes. Just a bit of curiosity."

"I hope you're not going to use kissing me as a test." Harry didn't want to be the decision point in anyone's life, not even his own.

"No." Ron laughed. "I'm hoping to use kissing Hermione as the test, since she's the one I've always wanted to kiss."

"Why'd you kiss me, then? I mean, if you wanted to kiss her?" Harry asked. He didn't want to sound like he minded because he hadn't, but he couldn't wrap his mind around Ron's thinking.

"You're not a bad looking bloke, mate." Ron smiled. "Besides, I've wanted to kiss you, too. I still want to kiss her."

Ignoring the first part because it was such a lie, Harry asked, "So it was just what you said, then? Just curiosity?"

"Yeah. You're my best mate. And well..." Ron looked away.

He didn't have to say it, Harry knew. "Me too. But not like that. I don't think I like anyone like that."

"No one?" Why did he sound so surprised? Ron cleared his throat. "Not even... um... Snape?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"You think you will, then." Ron didn't sound like he was asking a question, more like he was reiterating what he knew. He also didn't seem very upset by the idea, which relieved Harry as much as it surprised him.

"Yes. Eventually." Harry did not want to talk about Snape anymore. "What about Hermione?"

"I never thought, you know, that she would be interested in me. I mean, she's smarter than me." Ron breathed out a long sigh. "We've been owling over the break."

"I've always had the idea that she might be." Part of Harry hoped that she was, that she liked Ron as much as he clearly liked her. Another part of him wondered where he would fit into that mix. That was petty, he decided. Snape was going to take a lot of his time from now on, maybe it was only natural that Ron and Hermione turn to each other.

"Yeah." Ron sighed again. "She'll be here on Friday."

"Then you'll have time to convince her. Let her know how you feel. I'm thinking it's going to work out just fine." He thought that Hermione and Ron were going to have less problems than he was going have with Snape.

"You're not going to be upset?" Ron looked away. "I mean, if she and I..."

Shaking his head, he was still glad that Ron had asked. "No. I think I'm going to be spending most of this coming year revising for my NEWTs or in detention with Snape."

"Dealing with 'You Know Who'," Ron added with a visible shudder.

Harry suppressed his own fear. "Yeah. That, too.

A door opened and closed downstairs. The sound of two female voices drifted up to them. "Mom and Ginny must be home."

They both sat up and looked at each other. "Okay?" Ron asked, handing Harry back his glasses.

"Yeah. And thanks, mate."

Ron smiled. "My pleasure."

*****

Harry had been so tired the night before, he'd gone to bed early. As a result, he woke the next morning earlier than anyone else. For a while he lay in bed, but after he heard sounds downstairs, he decided it was time to get up. He went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Weasley talking to someone in the fireplace.

"All right, then. We'll speak more later," Molly said as the fire went out.

He glanced at her, but didn't ask.

She looked uncomfortable for a moment and then seemed to gather herself. "That was Professor Dumbledore," she said and cleared her throat. "He told me about the bond."

"Did he? Why?" He thought it was supposed to be a secret. Hadn't Dumbledore once told him that the more something was supposed to be a secret, the more people knew about it or something like that.

"Because Professor Snape feels it necessary to visit you here this week. Harry, I want you to answer me honestly." She looked right at him. "Has he done anything inappropriate to you, anything to make you feel uncomfortable?"

The little hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he had to fight down his irritation. "No! Of course not. How could you think such a thing?"

"Don't get upset with me, young man. I'm trying to look out for your best interests. I would not like to see you hurt by him." She gave him that mother knows best look he'd come to associate with her when she was meddling.

Reigning in his anger took work, but Harry managed it. He knew she meant well. "I appreciate that. What is between Professor Snape and myself is between us. I don't want to discuss it."

Her expression said she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "You've been forced into a situation where--"

Cutting her off before she could even get those words out was the only way to keep his temper. "No! I mean, yes we were forced, but I wasn't the only one. He was forced, too." Harry took another breath, wishing for once people would at least try to understand.

"So Professor Dumbledore told me. I just don't see--"

"What? That he didn't like me any better than I liked him?" Unable to help himself, Harry glared at her. "You don't understand at all."

"Then explain it to me." She folded her arms over her chest and waited for him to say something.

His normal reticence to speaking of personal things was pushed aside in favor of defending Snape. "Mrs. Weasley, you can't begin to understand what this bond between us is like. It's made me like him. No, more than that, it's made me love him."

"You're in love with him." Molly looked appalled. "What kind of degenerate is he that he would do that to a child."

"One," Harry said through his teeth, holding up a finger. "I'm seventeen. I'm hardly a child." He could see she was about as impressed with that as Snape had been. "And two." He held up a second finger. "He didn't do anything to me to make me care about him. It was the bond that had forced it." Harry held up a third finger. "And three. I'm not in love with him. Not yet."

Tilting her head a bit, she met his gaze. She looked slightly confused, but still determined to do her best for him whether he wanted it or not. "You just said--"

It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate that she cared enough to stick her nose in, it was just that he could handl