By Meri

"Ssseverus, my most loyal servant," the Dark Lord said, his lipless mouth repulsive as it formed what might have been a smile. "I understand you have withheld information from me?"

Oh, what now, he thought, still on his knees from his obeisance, the hem of the Dark Lord's robe in his hand. A prickle of unease went through Snape. "My Lord?"

"You did not inform me of the recent turn of events with the little monster you teach." The Dark Lord stared down at him, his impassive gaze more frightening than any glare.

Frantically, Snape searched his mind, trying to come up with what he'd missed. Or more likely, failed to report. All the while making sure only the proper thoughts of fear and puzzlement came through in his mind for the Dark Lord to read. "My Lord?" he said again, shaking his head slightly.

"Do not tell me others have noticed Potter's attachment to you, and you have not?"

"Attachment?" Snape had no idea what he was on about. "Potter's feelings for me are as they have always been, My Lord."

"They have changed, Severus." The Dark Lord sounded very sure about it, too. "Have you not noticed that he seeks you out after class?"

"His behavior in class has not changed." Snape had made sure that Potter bore the brunt of his bad temper as much as possible. They worked together too closely and for too long to chance any kind of closeness.

"I have been assured that his misbehavior is to gain your attention."

Snape bowed his head, wondering if he'd actually missed something that important. Then he scoffed, remembering Potter's fury as he yelled at him that very afternoon. No affection there. Especially not after he'd taken twenty house points and given the reckless child another detention with Filch. "With all due respect, my Lord, I think I would have noticed."

"You are not the most observant person, I have found."

That's because you are a fool, Snape thought, but bowed lower, putting his head nearly to the ground. "Yes, my Lord," he murmured obsequiously.

"Potter has feelings for you. I'm quite certain of it."

Well deserved hatred was the only feeling Potter had for him, and Snape knew it. "I do not--"

"Do not contradict me!" The Dark Lord's tone said he was an inch away from Cruciatus.

Snape placed his forehead on the ground and held his breath, refusing to acknowledge the trembling in his limbs. "Yes, my Lord."

"You will encourage this affection," the Dark Lord laughed. "Most assuredly, you will do so."

"Why, my Lord, would I change my feelings for the brat?" Snape asked, daring to raise his head a bit, and trying to hide his horror at the very idea. Why would the Dark Lord ask this of him? It made no sense and Snape had to wonder if he were being tested in some way. That made no sense, either. His stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"His feelings for you have changed. Are you not flattered?"

Snape wasn't sure what the Dark Lord wanted in the way of a reaction and so he said nothing.

The Dark Lord sat back and regarded him. "You will encourage his interest, spend time with him. Seduce him."

Before he could stop himself, Snape's head snapped up. He could not believe that the Dark Lord would even suggest such a thing. But unless he could convince him otherwise, Snape would have to play it out as if it were real. "Dumbledore will not allow --"

"You will see that Dumbledore does not interfere with my plans." The Dark Lord fingered his wand ominously.

Gulping back his horror, Snape frantically searched for reasons why not. "My Lord. Potter is a student. I can't seduce him and hope to retain my position."

"No?" The Dark Lord was silent for a moment and Snape knew it was futile to hope that he was giving up this ridiculous idea.

The Dark Lord laughed again. "You'll court him. Yes…yes that's what you'll do. You'll *formally* court him."

Oh Merlin, he was serious. There would be no getting around a formal courtship. Snape closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, forcing himself to calm. He managed a wan smile. "Very wise, my Lord. Dumbledore will be unable to move against me. However, formal courtship will take months, even if it's accepted."

"You will see that it is accepted. Or you will explain to me why it was not. You must convince the brat that you have come to care for him as he has for you."

The only problem with that, Snape thought, was that, "I detest the insolent child and have never made a secret of it. I am not sure how I could convince anyone otherwise."

He didn't have to shield his mind against the Dark Lord's probing. He wanted him to know just how much he could not stand Potter and how much the idea repulsed him.

The Dark Lord's red eyes met his and Snape was smart enough to be terrified.

"You will convince him. We have time for your courtship. You have until the spring. At that point, you shall lead him to me."

Snape felt his stomach roil as he lowered his head back to the stone floor. "Yes, my lord. It will be as you wish."

Behind him, he heard someone snicker. Malfoy, no doubt. Snape was nearly sure this had to have come from him, probably thinking it was a great joke - setting him against Potter. For a moment, Snape considered that the Dark Lord might be in on it as well, but dismissed it. He didn't have the imagination.

*****

"May I offer you some tea?" Dumbledore asked as he motioned for Snape to take a seat in front of the fire.

"Thank you, Headmaster." Snape sat down and took a long sip from the cup, enjoying the feel of the hot liquid in his cold insides. There was no use putting it off, so Snape took a breath and said, "I've been told to formally court Harry Potter."

Dumbledore choked on his tea. "Excuse me?"

Nice to know he could still shock the old man. "I'm afraid that someone informed the Dark Lord that Potter has amorous…intentions towards me."

"Does he? I hadn't heard that and really, I think that I would have."

As much as Snape would have liked to have told Dumbledore that he didn't know everything, the awful truth was, he did know a great deal. Snape let out a frustrated sigh. "I rather seriously doubt Potter has any gentle feelings for me. The boy is as insolent and bad mannered as he has ever been. More so, I would even venture to say."

"However in the last year, you've spent a great deal of time with him, helping him, training him. It is possible that he's --"

"I had considered that, but as I've said, I have not noticed any appreciable change in his behavior. I doubt that Potter would spit on me were I on fire."

"Now Severus, that's rather harsh," Dumbledore admonished, but he was smiling. "Perhaps he's looking for some attention."

"The boy is surrounded by his sycophants. He does not need more attention." Even as he said it, Snape knew it wasn't true. If nothing else, the last two years of Occlumency lessons had shown him how little Potter cared for that type of notoriety.

"I shall speak to the lad, and see if I can gain his cooperation." At least Dumbledore did not automatically assume that Potter would do as he wished.

Snape glared at him. That last thing he needed was to have to deal with Potter any more than he already did, which given the defense lessons on top of advanced potions was too much already. "Must you?"

"If you wish to court him, you will need his agreement to do it," Dumbledore said.

"Do I need to remind you that he's a student and I am a teacher? Are you actually going to allow this to take place?" Snape sincerely had hoped he wouldn't.

"Voldemort knows that a formal courtship will not violate school rules. Indeed, it would be lauded as the proper way for a teacher and student to proceed in this circumstance." It was also clear that Dumbledore did not approve.

Just as well since Snape didn't approve either. "What circumstance? It's not as if Potter and I actually have any feelings for each other, other than negative ones, of course." While he might not detest the reckless boy as intensely as it seemed sometimes, that did not mean that he actually liked him. "I will not make a mockery of one of our most time-honored rituals, not even for you."

"This isn't about me, Severus, and you know it. We need the information you're providing us with. For as long as you can safely provide it." Dumbledore met his eyes and there was nothing of the sparkling-eyed old man in his direct gaze.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore's ideas on what was safe were elastic. "Yes, sir," Snape said, resisting the urge to bow his head. "It shall be as you wish."

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore chided, "simply follow the ritual. I shall speak with Harry."

He didn't care that he was being paranoid, but he insisted, "Not without me present."

"As you please. After dinner I think."

Snape stood. "Yes sir."

*****

Harry stopped eating and looked up. It hadn't taken him long to realize that someone standing over him was never a good sign, especially a teacher, and most especially one with that look on her face.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, her tone more stern than usual. "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office after supper."

"Yes ma'am," Harry said politely, dropping his fork back to his plate as she walked away. His appetite left with her.

"What have you done now?" Hermione asked, looking after McGonagall. Her tone was pure Head Girl.

"I've haven't done anything. I haven't even been out after curfew." Much, he added silently. Sometimes his defense lessons ran late, and Snape never gave him a pass.

Ron gave him an understanding look, but wisely said nothing.

"Well, if the Headmaster wants to see you, then you must have done something," Hermione said, tartly and a bit too accusatory for Harry's taste.

Already on edge, her tone annoyed Harry even further.

"Not necessarily," Neville put in with a blush. As he'd got older, Neville had started speak his mind a bit more. "I mean, it could be --"

"I know what you mean," she cut him off and Neville shrank back.

Of course, Harry reflected, that didn't always work with Hermione.

She turned her bossy look on Harry. "You're gone so much. We never know where you are. It's no wonder you're in trouble."

Usually, Hermione's bossiness didn't bother him, but after McGonagall, and the sinking feeling Harry had in his stomach about it, he didn't want to deal with it. He glanced at Neville sympathetically before scowling at Hermione. "I don't know. But I guess I'll go find out." He stood up and turned his back on her.

"Harry." Hermione's tone was contrite. "I didn't mean --"

He was not in the mood to be placated. "I'll see you all later."

Harry marched off in the direction of the gargoyle.

The Headmaster was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. "Come along, my boy. We've much to discuss."

"What exactly?" Harry asked, trying to tamp down his vibrating nerves. He stepped onto the stairs and they started up with a lurch. "I mean--"

"No, you're not in trouble."

Relieved, Harry remained silent as the Headmaster waved him to a seat and held out a candy dish. Harry shook his head, his stomach rebelling against putting anything else into it before he knew what was going on.

A moment later, the door opened again, and Snape walked in. Harry let out a sigh. Snape was about the last person he wanted to see. His presence usually meant something unpleasant was about to happen, usually to Harry.

"Have you told him yet, Headmaster?" Snape sat down without direction.

"No, Severus, Harry, and I have only just arrived. Why don't you explain the situation to Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he sat down behind his desk.

Harry breathed out. He wanted to scream that they should just tell him already, but instead he waited, his nerves jangling even more.

Snape looked at Harry and sneered. "I've been given to understand you have …." Snape paused for a beat and his lips curled into a snarl. "Certain, shall we say, amorous feelings for me."

"What?" Harry couldn't believe his voice cracked, more than that, he couldn't believe Snape had actually said that. "You're joking."

"I most assuredly am not joking, Potter." Snape's expression got more unpleasant by the second. "I've been assured by the Dark Lord that it is true."

It might even be worth the points, Harry decided, to laugh in Snape's face, but he controlled the impulse. "Well, I can assure you that it's not. And I would know."

"I've no doubt." With a bitter sounding laugh, Snape leaned back in his chair. "However, it does pose a problem."

Harry ignored the warning his gut was giving him and sneered back at Snape. "And what would that be? It's no skin off my nose what Voldemort believes."

Snape pushed his greasy hair out of his face and snapped, "Ten points from Gryffindor. Your insolence amazes me, Potter. It's a wonder you're still alive."

Bastard, Harry thought. If he were going to lose points anyway, he should have laughed at Snape. "So, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that the Dark Lord believes you to…have feelings for me." Snape pronounced, as if the very words had left a foul taste in his mouth. "Therefore, he has ordered me to court you. Formally."

"Court me? As in date me? As in you and me going out on a date? As in, not a chance in hell." Harry forced out a laugh, but his stomach tightened unpleasantly.

"Ten more points for your disrespect."

"That's not disrespect. It's the truth. You can't make me date you. It's got to be against some rule somewhere." Harry looked pleadingly at Dumbledore.

"How ironic, the greatest Gryffindor rule-breaker --"

"-- Severus." There was a warning in Dumbledore's tone.

"Once taken, points can't be returned." Snape sounded quite smug about it, too. "It's not a date. I would not deign to date someone as ignorant as you."

Harry gritted his teeth and counted to ten. Then, backward from ten. "If it's not dating, then what is it?"

"There is a vast difference between formal courting and dating as you put it. They are not in the same realm of behavior. If you knew anything at all about the culture you lived in, you would know that already." Snape looked down his considerable nose at Harry, ten kinds of superior and condescending.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, his tone commanding attention. "That isn't helping Harry understand."

Yeah, thought Harry, it's not helping at all. All it was doing was giving Harry a reason not to do what he was now pretty sure they were going to ask him to do. "What is the difference?"

For one second, it looked like Snape might not answer, but then he sighed resignedly. "The difference is that Formal Courtship ends in Marriage. It's one of our most hallowed rituals."

"I don't follow," Harry said, honestly confused. "How can an engagement be more important that a marriage?"

"This is a wizarding Courtship." Snape put emphasis on the words, as if that answered the question.

It didn't. As much as the non-answer annoyed him, Harry wasn't going to ask again. He was sure that he'd get the same irritating answer. "Why would you want to court me, even to placate Voldemort?"

"I don't. Not in the slightest. Not for any reason. Believe me when I tell you it is just about the last thing I wish to do." Snape's tone made that very plain and Harry could not agree more.

"And trust me when I tell *you* that the idea doesn't do much for me either." The very idea of dating Snape made him want to give back his dinner. He literally could not think of anything worse. Well, maybe Lucius Malfoy or Voldemort himself. Harry was glad he'd refused the sweets.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, his patience seemingly at an end. "Nevertheless, Harry, we will need you to cooperate--"

Even half expecting it, his stomach roiled at Dumbledore's words, and Harry cut Dumbledore off before he could finish. "I am not getting engaged to that gr…to Professor Snape. I'm sorry. I'm not."

"No one is asking you to actually accept the suit --"

"-- Merlin forbid--" Snape spat out.

"I'd like you to seem to be considering it." Dumbledore made it sound like a request, but then he always did, even when it wasn't one, like this.

Despite his best effort to contain it, resentment bubbled up inside him. He could see he was going to have little choice about this. "Define consider," he said. If he had his way, he wouldn't be going anywhere near Snape in any capacity that didn't involve class or defense lessons. Last year's Occlumency lessons loomed large in his mind for a moment and he shuddered. Definitely not going near Snape without a good reason.

"If you disparage me in any way when I approach you, I shall hex you into next month." Snape met his eyes and his belligerent sneer got more so. "I will also give you so many detentions that you'll never see your housemates. And that's just to start with."

Some part of Harry wanted to rail that he already didn't see his friends, especially Ron and Hermione, but it occurred to him that if Snape were making threats already, perhaps this might work to his advantage. "You know, that's not the way to get me to consider your suit, Professor."

Snape's face flushed and he looked ready to explode. "I don't actually plan to--"

"Yes, you do," Dumbledore corrected. "If I'm going to allow this at all, it has to be a Formal Courtship with all the accompanying ceremony."

"What exactly is so special about a formal courtship?" There were times when Harry felt his lack of knowledge of Wizarding culture very acutely.

"Figure it out for yourself." Snape sounded furious that he didn't know. "You'll need the information when you choose some unlucky boy or girl to become involved with."

There were times when he didn't hate Snape nearly as much as he once had, times when Snape had worked with him on defense, teaching him what he needed to know to survive what was coming, and Harry could forget what a greasy bastard Snape was. Those times were rare and right now he couldn't even remember them. Right now, he hated Snape every bit as much as he had in fifth year.

Harry sneered back for all he was worth. "At least if I went after someone they'd say yes. I don't have to have them pretend they like me."

"Were someone to choose me, I would know it was for myself rather than some *other* reason." Snape's tone was awful and his expression repulsive.

What was worse, Harry knew he was right. He felt his shoulders start to slump and he had to fight to hold them up and meet Snape's flat eyes. "If you could even get --"

"Gentlemen." Dumbledore's voice cut through their animosity. "You will at least seem to get along for the duration."

"That's so not going to happen," Harry assured him, glaring back at Snape. "I can't lie that well."

"Try to be civil to each other in public, that is all I'm asking," Dumbledore said. He didn't sound like he expected them to be capable of even that.

That was a good thing, since Harry wasn't sure he could manage it. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore glared at Snape until he nodded.

"I should not need to tell either of you that you should mention this to no one." Dumbledore's expression was firm.

So much for asking Hermione or Ron for advice. "All right. What should I do?" Harry asked, his stomach dropping a bit further.

"I know it will be nigh on impossible for you, but follow my lead. There are a few public rituals, and you must seem receptive to them."

As much as he would have liked to say something scathing, Harry sighed instead. This was going to be hell, he could tell already. "Yes, sir."

*****

Snape prepared himself for the first ritual with a long bath, cleansing himself thoroughly, trimming both his hair and his nails. He slipped a simple, loose robe over his naked body. Try as he might to deny it, he felt a sense of anticipation washing through him.

Before he'd reached adulthood, and in a fit of youthful optimism, he'd made the necessary symbolic items for the Ritual Table. As he'd matured into adulthood and the realities of his life battered down his earlier hopes, he admitted to himself that it was unlikely that he'd ever use them. So, along with the tattered remains of his childhood hopes, he'd packed the ritual set away, and gone on with his life, trying hard to forget they had ever existed. That he needed them now surprised him almost more than for whom they were needed.

Even knowing it was a charade, he would not allow himself to profane the ritual with disrespect. As much as it mortified him to admit it, and despite his best efforts to kill it, some small part of his heart still had hope.

He gathered the items required for the ritual, stopping at his best potions stores for the herbs he'd need, before going to the Great Hall. The ritual needed to be performed in public, but with no one to witness it. Most people did it in their parent's garden or hall, and there were parties and dinners so that guests would see the table and the Intended could make the appropriate response.

Snape had no parents or hall, so he would make do with what he did have.

His bare feet made no sound on the cold floor as he moved across it. He conjured a low table at one corner and set his things on the floor beside it.

For a moment, he stood with his hands at his side, in respect to all those who had performed this ritual before him. He tried to imagine his Intended but since it was Potter, he had trouble keeping his thoughts as respectful as they should be.

He picked up a white candle and set it on the table. It signified a purity of mind, body, and spirit that he could no longer claim, but if he wished it were so, then it would be so. Or at least, that was the theory. Would that it were. Even in his mind, he would not snort at the idea.

An earthen bowl of aromatic herbs was placed carefully next to the candle. The scent of the herbs signified home and hearth, which he was to offer to his Intended. A galleon was laid beside the bowl to symbolize his worldly goods.

The last item was a glass cylinder with a rod next to it. He conjured a small flame inside the glass, setting the spell to burn for a fortnight's time.

Tomorrow, he would move on with the Ritual of Declaration. He could only hope that Potter would keep his word and not laugh in his face.

When the time allotted for Declaration had expired, he would take down the small table and pack his things away. There would be some satisfaction in knowing he'd done the ritual properly, even if he were rejected.

After that, he was free to report to the Dark Lord that he had done all he could and Potter had not responded. The Dark Lord's response would no doubt be swift and sure. Snape tried to push it from his mind.

*****

Snape closed the door to the Great Hall and leaned against it for one moment. He pushed all thoughts of what the Dark Lord might do to him if he failed out of his head and savored the remaining flavor of the ritual. Even if it never came to anything more than tonight's ceremony, the warm feelings generated from the rite were too lovely to let go right away.

He was being a fool, and he knew it. This was a farce. A trick to fool the Dark Lord into thinking he was complying. It was not real.

Pushing himself off the door, he took a step towards the corridor, wanting nothing more than to go to bed.

As luck would have it, he saw Professor Vector coming towards him. He groaned. She wasn't the very last person he wished to see tonight. Indeed, on most occasions he found her conversation intelligent and her wit amusing. Tonight, however, making conversation with anyone did not appeal to him.

"Severus, what are you doing up so late?" She looked him up and down and pointedly stared at his bare feet for a moment.

"I was unable to sleep," Snape lied. He shivered as a cold draft came down the corridor and found its way up his robe, pimpling his bare skin with goose flesh.

"It's far too cold to be walking around the halls like that." Vector nodded to his thin robe. "Why on earth would you do something so silly? You'll catch your death that way."

Being reprimanded like a recalcitrant child did absolutely nothing for his temper. Snape scowled at her. "I don't believe it's any of your business--"

Again, Vector seemed to study him, her head tilted to one side and her eyes narrowed. "You look like you're dressed for a ritual."

"If I were, it would not be any of your concern," Snape spat out in a tone most of his students would have known to be wary of.

Vector, of course, ignored the warning. She straightened up and regarded him, cautiously. "It is my concern since I'm a teacher at this school and anything that happens here affects both me and my students."

"Be that as it may, it was private. Therefore, not of any concern of yours." Snape was getting very tired of this conversation.

"So, it was a ritual." She smirked, her eyebrow furrowing. "It's the wrong time of the month for a moon ritual, and really, you're the wrong sex for most of those anyway."

How did he shut her up, he wondered. He took a step forward, looking down at her menacingly. "Vector--"

"And it's the wrong time of year for any of the solstice rituals," she said absently as if she were going through the various wizarding rituals in her head.

Maybe she was. That didn't mean he had to put up with this nonsense. He growled, "Vector--"

"Come now, Severus, you've piqued my curiosity." She actually laughed at him.

Although he tried hard not to be overly rude to any of the teachers on staff, she was fast approaching the end of his tolerance for stupidity. "As I said, it is none of your concern."

Something in his tone must have carried through because she looked up at him, her eyes filled with trepidation. "It's not the dark arts, is it?"

"Don't be an idiot. You can't practice dark arts at Hogwarts. The wards won't allow it." Snape wondered how she could be so smart and yet so foolish at the same time.

"Really. I didn't know."

"How could you not know that?"

Her look hardened and now she seemed truly angry. "Since I've never practiced the dark arts, I've had no need to worry about the wards."

She was serious.

"And no one thought to mention this to you? How long have you taught here?"

"Again, why would they?" Vector sneered at him. "And you know quite well how long I've taught here."

She was Muggle born and raised, he supposed that might have something to do with it. Another cold draft made him shiver. "I'm sure this would make a very interesting conversation on some other night. However, I'd like to retire now."

He bowed slightly and started to turn.

Vector put a hand on his arm. "You haven't told me which ritual you performed."

"No. I haven't." Snape shook off her hand. Giving her a sneering look, he turned and started down the corridor.

*****

"What's that?" Harry asked the following morning, nodding towards the table with a candle on it that nestled in one corner of the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione both looked at it, but it was Ron's eyes that widened.

"I think it's a courtship table," Ron said, still heading toward their table.

Harry started to veer in that direction, surprised that no one else had gone to look at it, but Ron put a hand on his arm. "Don't."

"Why not?" He was curious. Especially since he now knew who had put it there and what it must be about.

"Because it would be rude. The table is personal." Ron said it as if Harry should already know it.

"Then why is it in public?" Hermione asked. She didn't sound as if she knew anything about it. That would be a first.

"You don't know?" Ron's expression was at first incredulous and then overjoyed. "There's something that I know and you don't?"

"There are many things I don't know, but I'm not afraid to admit it or look it up." Looking quite exasperated, Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "I've had no cause to know wizarding courtship rituals. I'm not likely to need that information any time soon."

Ron gave her a smirk. "You never know when you'll need that information. You might want to look that up."

"I won't need it by tonight. I'll do it after dinner." She glanced curiously back at the table. "So why is it in public, if it's private?"

"It's a Ritual of Recognition. Which is done alone. But it's put in a place that your Intended can get to so that if they wish to accept the Recognition; they can put their own candle on the table and light it."

"How does the person know it's for them?" Harry asked.

"That's where the Ritual of Declaration comes in. The person who puts up the table approaches his or her Intended three times."

Harry wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't think drawing attention to himself or to Snape would be a good idea.

"O-kay." Hermione had a way of splitting word in half when she didn't quite understand something and it annoyed her that she didn't know.

"Let's eat," Ron said, moving ahead of them to the table.

"Do you ever feel like you'll never know everything you need to know about the wizarding world?" Harry asked.

"No. I'll research it and then I'll know." She said so matter-of-factly, as if it were the answer to everything.

Maybe it was for her, but Harry was more and more disheartened by expectations without explanations. It drove him mad. "There are so many things that we don't know and they all just assume we do."

"If you had read…" Hermione trailed off as she saw the expression on his face. "I don't let it bother me."

She was lying. Harry knew it bothered her. It was why she almost always had a quote to come back with. But he wasn't going to call her on it. It bothered him, too.

*****

With a sigh of reluctance, Harry opened the door to the Room of Requirement. After fifth year, Dumbledore decided his Occlumency lessons should be held someplace other than Snape's office. It made sense, since neither he nor Snape wanted to be associated with each other. It also gave them neutral ground to meet on, which Harry very much appreciated.

By the end of last year, he'd mastered Occlumency, and they had moved on to Defense.

Now that they were supposed to be seen together, Harry wondered if they would go back to Snape's office. Since Snape hadn't said anything about it, he had come to the lesson as scheduled.

The room was bare to the stone walls. That was never a good sign. While he and Snape had worked on various defensive techniques, they hadn't done much one-on-one dueling. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to face Snape, now.

Without a word to him, Snape attacked, sending a fire hex his way.

Harry smirked and stepped out of the way and it hit the stone wall behind him.

"You will not always be able to do that," Snape said firing off several more in rapid succession.

As Snape no doubt expected, Harry wasn't fast enough to dodge them all. One clipped his shoulder, burning a hole in his robes.

"Git," Harry complained, irritated. "Try not to ruin my clothes."

In answer, Snape sent more fireballs his way, another one taking out his entire sleeve this time.

"Fine," Harry growled, furious. He took off his smoldering robe. "You've made your point."

By the look of Snape, Harry had a sudden insight that he had not begun to make his point. He felt his stomach twist and tried to remind himself that Snape wouldn't kill him, especially not now that he needed Harry for something.

"Do you even know how to create a shield?" Snape's expression was condescending and superior, making it clear that he thought Harry incapable of even the simplest spell.

"Of course I do," Harry snapped, his temper on edge, and his fear starting to increase with it.

"Do so." Snape's tone was silky and dangerous.

Harry tried to put his shield up and Snape's first hex went through it as if it did not exist. Fuck, thought Harry, revising his earlier belief that Snape wouldn't kill him. He wasn't going to have to worry about Voldemort, it was now obvious that he wasn't going survive his training.

"Useless. Just as I knew you would be." Snape looked down his nose and sneered.

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Harry glared at the greasy bastard. "Why don't you do something useful and tell me how to fix it?"

Snape's sneer got more condescending. "Always looking for an easy answer, aren't you? Ten points from Gryffindor."

"That is not very useful." Harry tried to sneer back, but even as angry as he was, he couldn't pull it off nearly as well as Snape did.

"Use a different shield." Snape said it as if everyone should know several. "What other shield spells do you know?"

"None. That is my one and only." Oh, how he hated to have to ask, but he was backed into a corner and they both knew it. Harry folded his arms over his chest. "Can you teach me another one?"

Snape let out a sigh that sounded like Harry had asked for something he had no right to know. Damn, it annoyed Harry.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, here, but aren't you supposed to be training me? Isn't that why we're here? Isn't that why I'm putting up with this crap from you? Harry knew he'd stepped over the line before Snape's expression turned to stone.

"Putting up with this, are you? You stupid, insolent boy. You should be grateful I'm willing to spend my time teaching you."

Harry scowled at that. "You don't have a choice any more than I do. Dumbledore's making you do it."

"It's Professor Dumbledore to you. Ten points for disrespect," Snape snarled at him. "And you should be doubly grateful and take advantage of it. You do know how to read, don't you? Of course, you never thought of looking it up? Did you never consider that you might be required to know how to shield yourself?"

Harry could feel his temper fray. "Why would I know? It's not as if I've ever had a decent defense teacher to teach me. Well, except third year."

"You think too much of the werewolf's abilities." Snape's tone was scathing. "He clearly didn't teach you enough."

"At least he taught me something, which is more than I can say for the rest of the lot, including this year's entry." Harry also knew that Snape could learn a thing or two from Professor Lupin, but he was wise enough not to say so.

"Be that as it may, it will not help you now," Snape said, his tone changing slightly. "Most shields are a variation on one of three types." Snape went on to explain what each one was. And then how each worked. "I'll give you some books to read. Right now, however, we're going to work on the shield spell you do know." Without giving him time to think, Snape struck.

Harry's shield held out for one minute and then dissipated. "Aren't you going to show me how to do this before you attack? Or you do you get off on hurting me?"

"Concentrate, you fool. Brace your power against it. That's how you do it." Snape sounded both furious and frustrated.

But Harry was more so. "I am doing that, damn it." His shield held for two strikes before falling.

"Concentrate!" Snape seemed to take it as a personal affront that Harry couldn't master the shielding.

Sweating and breathing hard, Harry tried to put his power behind it, and couldn't quite manage it. Again, his shields failed when hit more than once or twice. In sheer frustration, he lobbed off a couple of hexes at Snape. See how he liked being attacked.

With an ease that frankly amazed Harry, Snape raised a shield and Harry's fireballs bounced off it with no visible effect. "You are a foolish boy." He struck again with several different kinds of hexes.

His anger fueling him, Harry held off most of them, failing only at the last one. The fireball burned a hole in his shirt and scorched his arm.

"Damn it. That hurt." Harry's fury intensified with the pain and he could feel himself start to spiral out of control. He fired several hexes back at Snape, all of which failed miserably against his shields.

"Again," Snape said, with no more warning or mercy. He bombarded Harry with one painful, burning hex after another.

Harry ended up in a corner, not even able to raise his wand in defense, screaming for Snape to stop. Humiliated, he knew if he retaliated, Snape would start again, but his anger needed an outlet and when Snape got to close enough, he stood up, ready to attack physically.

"Do not try it. I outweigh you, and I will not hesitate to confine you." Snape glared at him, looking as if he were on the same cusp of fury that Harry was. Snape stepped back. "Take a deep breath and let your anger go."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious. How? I could kill you right now."

"I'm sure you think you could. Let your anger go. Do it."

Having run out of other options, Harry obeyed.

Snape's tone was hard and low when he spoke again. "In your arrogance, you assume you shall be able to kill the Dark Lord. Look at you, you can't even defend yourself. He will kill you, Potter. He will take great joy in it."

"You're not teaching me anything this way."

"I've taught you that you are helpless, that without proper training and practice, you will die. I guarantee that the Dark Lord or one of his Death-Eaters will not stop when you ask. They will laugh while you scream." Snape looked at him and sneered. "I've taught you that you must master your temper."

As much as he hated Snape at that moment and he did with all his heart, he knew that Snape was absolutely right and that infuriated him even more. God, how he hated to ask, hated to have to be beholden to Snape, but he didn't want to die. "Are you going to help me?"

"Will you help yourself?" Snape asked, and his tone had backed off from its earlier ugliness. It sounded almost human. "Will you do the readings I assign you? Will you practice with that little club of yours?"

Harry looked up sharply. "You know about…."

The look on Snape's face was so amused that Harry knew he'd asked a really stupid question. "Don't be an arse, boy. Of course, I do."

Harry nodded, he was too tired to care anymore.

"I think that's enough for tonight." Snape waved his wand and the worst of the burns were healed.

Unfortunately, Harry's clothes were still a loss.

"It's past curfew," Harry said, focusing on staying on his feet.

"Don't expect a pass from me."

"Of course not." Harry felt his anger rise again. Snape could never be decent about anything, could he?

As if he knew what Harry was thinking, Snape looked right at him. "If I have never given you a pass, why would I now? Think about it."

"You might now, given everything." Most of the time, Harry made it back to the tower without incident since most of the teachers knew what he was doing out.

"Perhaps later." It sounded like Snape actually meant that. "Right now, no one knows to whom the table belongs. And we shall keep it that way."

"I'm not likely to mention it to anyone. Ron told me about it." Harry collected his books and tried not to think about the whole courtship thing.

"See that you don't. Not right now, anyway."

As he was about to leave, Snape handed him two books. "Read these. We shall work more on your shielding in a week or so."

Harry stuffed both books into his backpack and left the room without another word.

*****

"Potter, a word with you, if you please?" Snape said as Harry was about to leave the hall after dinner the following night. It was not the first time Snape had stopped him for something after dinner, but usually he looked much angrier.

With a glare that said how annoying it was to be called out by Snape when he knew he hadn't done anything wrong, Harry moved towards him. "Yes, Professor?"

"Take a walk with me, Mr. Potter." Snape's tone was low and soft and there was ever so slight a deference in it.

Enough to startle Harry. Before he could say something scathing that would put him in detention, he remembered what Snape was on about.

He managed a weak smile. "Yes, sir."

Silently, he followed Snape out of the hall and across the entrance hall. In the courtyard, Snape's long legs ate up the ground until they were on the bridge that led across the campus. It was dark, but glowing lights bobbed in the air along the length of the span and created enough heat to make standing outside at this time of year tolerable.

"Well, this is as close to privacy as we can get and still be in public." Snape sounded tired and resigned.

"Is that necessary?" Harry asked. He was quite curious about the whole process.

For a moment, Snape looked annoyed, and he opened his mouth to say something scathing, Harry was sure, but instead he just said, "Yes."

"Uh…do you want to tell me why?" A trickle of irritation started to slide through Harry. Snape made things so damned difficult.

"You have no idea, do you?" Snape's tone was not quite a sneer, but it looked like he was holding it back.

That trickle was fast becoming a river and Harry had to fight not to snap at him. "I wouldn't ask if I knew."

Snape's jaw tensed for a moment and, then surprisingly, he sighed. "Asking you for a walk in public is declaring my intentions, so to speak."

"What about the candle and bowl and such? What does it mean?" Harry asked, and even though Snape's look became more resigned, he wasn't going to back down.

"I'm surprised Miss Granger hasn't told you." Now, there was the familiar sneer in his tone.

"She didn't know." At Snape's surprised look, Harry laughed. "She had to look it up and she hasn't said anything to me yet. I think she's probably still researching it."

"The know-it-all doesn't know something. How amusing," Snape said with a snicker.

"Insulting my friends is not a way for you to endear yourself to me," Harry said through his gritted teeth.

After a glance around the bridge, Snape leaned close. "I shouldn't have to tell that this isn't real. And as such, I'm hardly concerned. I must appear to be going through the motions."

He pulled away abruptly, Snape's warm breath was making him shiver. In disgust, Harry told himself. "Since it's not real, can I leave now?"

"You make it sound as if you want it to be real."

"Not a chance of that," Harry said with all the animosity that he could muster. "May I go?"

Snape checked his watch. "Give it another minute or two. And try to keep a respectful tongue in your head."

"Yeah. Right. I'll do that." Harry danced back and forth on his the balls of his feet, counting the seconds before he could escape. God, why did things like this always happen to him?

"Go." Snape waved a hand at him, seemingly disgusted, but definitely dismissive.

Harry took what he could get, and fled.

*****

"Your potion should be bright pink, not this icy pink." Snape looked in his cauldron and shook his head in disgust. "This is a NEWTs required potion. You will return tonight and brew it again. And most likely again after that, until you get it right."

While Harry would have liked to protest, he knew it was futile. Besides it *was* an important potion and he had no idea what he'd done wrong. "Yes, Professor."

In the back of the class, he heard Malfoy snicker. Snape said nothing to that.

"Even Mr. Longbottom has managed to brew it properly." He pointed a long stained finger at Neville's caldron. After years of exploding caldrons, Neville had sucked up his fears and started to, if not excel, then no longer fail so miserably, at potions.

"Adequate, Miss Granger." Snape said as he passed her and didn't even look in her cauldron.

"It was perfect," she said, sounding annoyed as she had every right to be.

"What was that, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, his voice smooth and dangerous. "Did I hear you say something?"

"No, sir," she said, not looking up at Snape.

Harry wanted to defend her, but she put a hand on his arm and shook her head. "Sorry," he muttered when Snape moved on to terrorize someone else.

"It's okay. I'm used to it." She started to bottle up her potion.

*****

As if to add insult to injury, Snape asked him to take a walk after dinner that night.

For a second, Harry hesitated, thinking about laughing in his face and walking away. Despite the satisfaction that might have given him, he knew he couldn't do it. He nodded and followed Snape out of the hall. They walked to and across the bridge in silence.

"I hate it when you treat Hermione like that," Harry said, still furious about what happened in class. "She doesn't deserve it and you know it."

Surprisingly, Snape raised an eyebrow, but didn't explode as Harry had expected.

"How exactly should I be treating her, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his tone oily sounding like he was playing with Harry.

A cat with a mouse, Harry thought morosely. Any minute now, he expected to be eaten alive.

Harry clasped his hands into fists. With a concentrated effort he forced them open, telling himself to relax, to not let Snape goad him. "She's the best student in the class."

"She's a know-it-all looking for approval. You would do well to remember that, boy."

"That doesn't make her any less right or any less of an excellent student." It was a losing battle and Harry knew it, but that didn't mean he could let it go without a fight. Snape's unfairness had to be answered. He didn't expect it to help, not really, but to let it go unremarked upon was against his nature.

"Perhaps not, but it makes her all the more difficult to deal with." Snape's tone had softened, sounding nearly amused, markedly different from the one he'd been using.

Surprised by the admission, Harry glanced at him, not quite trusting the conversation or Snape. There were sharp claws on Snape and Harry was smart enough to be very wary. "She's hard to keep ahead of, I'd imagine."

For one second, Snape looked like he might pull back, but he chuckled quietly and whispered, "You have no idea."

"You don't have to treat her so shabbily." Even as he said it, he realized that there might be more to it than just Snape being a bastard.

"You forget for whom I work." And was that a faint note of regret in Snape's voice?

Harry found it hard to hide his shock, but he managed to keep his voice low. "You can't be seen being nice to her."

"Perhaps you are not as hopeless as I thought. However, I would not be nice in any case."

"Why not?" Harry asked, still not quite believing they were having this conversation.

"A nice teacher does not maintain discipline and the class runs wild. They don't learn anything. A nice man will be taken advantage of quite frequently and ends up with nothing."

Harry thought about that for a moment, and decided that maybe Snape had a point. "You could at least try to be fair."

"If things were different, perhaps. As they are not, I would not hope for it. Miss Granger will do just fine. She always does," Snape said, sounding more like himself.

"What about the rest of the students?" Harry asked. He found it amazing what a difference an explanation made and wondered if he should have thought of it himself.

"Even Mr. Longbottom has learned to brew a passable potion." Snape looked at his watch. "It's time for your detention."

"How can you court me, and give me detention at the same time?" Harry complained, even knowing this detention wasn't about scrubbing caldrons.

Snape smiled again. "Oh, I don't find it hard at all."

"Greasy bastard," Harry muttered under his breath, but thinking maybe he was being just a bit unfair.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?" Snape's lips twitched.

"Nothing, sir." Harry thought Snape actually seemed amused, or what passed for it with the greasy git.

*****

"Well, I expect that shade of pink *is* closer to the correct color than the previous ones," Snape said, looking over Harry's shoulder, his tone quite scathing. "Spill it out, clean the caldron, and begin again."

Harry's back stiffened, fury washing over him. He'd been trying so hard to get it right and Snape had done nothing to help. "I don't have time before curfew."

"Do you want to pass your NEWTs?" Snape's tone said he didn't believe Harry could pass.

"At this point, I'm too damned tired to care." Dealing with Snape was enough exhaust him at any time and he couldn't do it any longer tonight.

However, Snape wouldn't let it go. "I would care if I were facing my NEWTs in a short time."

"It's months away. I've done this three times today. I'm tired." Harry sounded whiny even to himself.

Snape's look was more annoyed. In fact, he seemed to be holding on to his temper by a thread. "You've yet to do it correctly."

"If you'd bother to help me, rather than just sitting there--" Harry snarled at him. Snape could not have been more useless if he tried, which he probably did.

His lip curled up in a vicious sneer. "I have let you use my resources three times and for no good reason it would seem --"

That was the most asinine thing Harry had ever heard. "If you're worried about it, I can--"

"What, Potter? Pay for it? What about my time?" Snape's face was red, his outrage obvious.

"Wouldn't it be a better use of your time to help me?" Harry said, trying again to reason with the unreasonable bastard.

Snape's jaw tensed and he took a breath before he spoke. "If by that you mean I should simply give you the answer, think again you lazy brat."

"Of course not. Teaching me something might ruin your reputation." Harry hadn't meant to lose his temper, but Snape drove him mad at the best of times. "Tell me what I've done wrong."

"You get enough free rides. You'll do this one correctly. By yourself," Snape said, his expression going darker, more remote.

He couldn't stand another moment of that superior attitude Snape always had. "Just tell me, damn it!" Harry screamed at him.

Snape went white with rage. "You want to know where you failed? And you're too lazy and too stupid to figure it out for yourself. Continually expecting to have a free ride. Just like your father."

Harry drew in a gasp. "Leave him out of this, you greasy bastard!"

Snape's sneer was a new definition of cruel. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Watch your mouth Potter. I've been far too indulgent with you."

"Indulgent? You don't know the meaning of the word." Harry was no longer thinking, all he wanted was to give Snape back some of the unfairness he'd dished out for so long.

"And you don't know when to keep your mouth closed. You're just like him. Every bit as arrogant and self-serving."

Clenching his fist, Harry wanted nothing more than to smash it into Snape's ugly face. "How dare you even speak of him?"

"Because I can. I knew him," Snape roared, his face crimson, his eyes buldging. "I knew him and I hated him. I hated everything about him and his miserable clique. And you show all the evidence of being just like he was."

He grabbed the front of Snape's robes and got right up into his face. "Well, I didn't! I never knew him," Harry screamed and let go, horrified that he'd almost hit Snape.

Snape staggered back, breathing hard, his face a mask of outrage and fury. "Who do you think you are? How dare you touch me -- I could have you expelled."

"How dare you keep bringing my father up? Why can't you let the past go? Why are you always so fucking horrid and unfair?" Harry fought for breath, fury making him shake.

"Oh, that's easy, Potter. I enjoy making you see yourself for what you are. I enjoy taking you down a notch. You deserve it. You're nothing but a whiney spoilt child."

"You don't have that right," Harry said, trying to calm himself before he did something they would both regret.

"Oh, but I do. I have every right to tell you exactly what and who you are." Snape laughed that miserable sneering laugh.

Harry's rage exploded and he slammed the cauldron across the table. Fuck that hurt, he thought, rubbing his throbbing hand. The pink liquid had splattered over the counter, the floor, and the walls. It also caught the edge of Snape's robe.

Snape froze and very slowly lifted the edge of his robe, glancing down at the stain. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and you have a week's detention. You will clean up that mess. Then you will redo the potion." His voice was as quiet as death.

Still holding his injured hand, Harry stepped back, mortified by his display of temper and not a little intimidated by Snape's fury. He wondered what was it about Snape that made him so out of control? "Yes, sir," he said.

After unsuccessfully brewing the potion a fourth time, Harry cleaned up and left without a word. He was too tired think properly. With his mind in turmoil, he knew he would not sleep. It was tempting fate if he were caught, but he walked out on the bridge to think.

It bothered him terribly that Snape believed he was that much like his father. Since fifth year, and the pensieve incident, his view of his father hadn't been as sterling as everyone else's. As much as he still loved Sirius and his father, he didn't want to be thought of as being like either one of them.

A voice asked him why it mattered so much what Snape thought. Harry didn't know. He only knew that it did. He also knew he'd have to apologize. Not that he expected Snape to accept it, but he had to do it for himself.

*****

Weary to the very soles of his feet, Snape shuffled his way up the stone steps of the castle. He leaned against the great wooden doors for a moment to catch his breath, before he pushed them open and went inside.

Each step hurt. He'd been called just as Potter had left, and his meeting with the Dark Lord had been a painful experience. Though not nearly as painful as it could have been, he supposed. Right, he could have been tortured to death by Cruciatus, rather than just until he screamed his voice hoarse.

He croaked out the password to the Headmaster's office, and rode the stairs to the top. Dumbledore met him there and held the door open, waving him to a seat. "Come in, Severus. Can I offer you some tea?"

"No thank you," Snape said, his voice starting to come back from the dead. He glanced at the chair in front of the desk. If he wanted to make it out of this office any time in the near future, he'd better stay on his feet.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked, a gratifying amount of concern in his tone.

"As well as I can be after…." He cut himself off. Dumbledore knew by the look of him what had happened at the meeting. Discussing it would mean reliving it, and really, he'd rather not go through that again.

"Was there a reason this time, or simply your turn?" Dumbledore didn't take the seat behind his desk, instead he leaned on the front.

"My fault, I'm afraid. He asked about the Courtship and I made the mistake of telling him that Potter might not accept my Declaration. He was not pleased." Snape had to wonder why the Dark Lord was so intent on having this happen.

It was an interesting idea to have Potter in his thrall, but it didn't necessarily mean that Potter would fall in line with the Dark Lord's plans. The amount of anger directed at him over Potter's predicted non-compliance seemed out of line with even the Dark Lord's worst temper tantrums. Even Malfoy had been surprised by the level of anger directed at him over this.

Dumbledore gave him a hard look. "Are you certain that Harry will not accept?"

"Since I'm sure he does not know he has to accept anything, yes, I can be fairly certain that he will not do so."

"Why haven't you told him?" Dumbledore sounded annoyed now.

At least, he wouldn't erupt violently about it, Snape thought, grateful for small favors. "I have no wish for him to accept it. It would be a travesty." Snape was not about to explain that it was already becoming too real. That his utter disdain for the reckless boy would not survive much longer. He needed this over and done with, one way or another. The Courtship had the potential to matter too much too him.

"Let me remind you that the whole point here was not to enrage Voldemort. I think that you should consider telling Harry what he must do." That wasn't a request, not in that tone of voice or with that look on Dumbledore's face.

"No. In a few days, this will all be over. Let it be." Snape swayed as a wave of fatigue swept down over him. He put a hand on the bookcase to steady himself.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. The Dark Lord is likely to kill you if you don't comply."

"Be that as it may, I should think it's my decision whether or not to continue the Courtship."

"Actually, at this point, it's Harry's."

"Then we'll leave it to him." Snape smirked, folding his arms across his chest. He was not going to tell the dunderhead and Snape doubted he'd bothered to look it up.

"You have until the end of the week to inform Harry, and if you don't do it by then, I will."

"Headmaster, you are being unreasonable. I won't have it." Snape knew it was a bad idea to annoy Dumbledore. The truth was he had only the faintest hope that he could convince him to let it drop.

Dumbledore straightened up from the desk, and looked at Snape, his expression unyielding. That nice old man act fooled a lot of people, but a person only had to see Dumbledore like this once to know enough to be wary. "Tell him. Or I will."

With a sigh of resignation, Snape nodded, his exhaustion bearing down on him harder than before. "It shall be as you wish."

"I've told you not to use that tone of voice with me." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and he seemed ready to say something else.

After a moment more, he sighed too. "Was there anything else of interest?"

"The Dark Lord has three or four raids planned in the next few months. Nothing of any real importance. They are on Muggle businesses in wizarding towns. Scare tactics mostly, I think. He does not seem to have anything significant planned until the spring. I'm still not privy to that information."

Dumbledore nodded, stroking a hand along his beard. "Nothing else?"

Snape shook his head. He was dead on his feet and wanted a hot bath. Pushing off from the bookcase, he managed to stand straight. "If there is nothing else?"

"Go to bed," Dumbledore said kindly, but then ruined it with another hard look. "Do not forget what I said about Harry."

With an irritated glare, Snape put a hand on the door knob ready to leave. He'd had enough of this. "I'm not likely to forget."

He stalked out of the office and down the stairs.

Merlin, Dumbledore annoyed the hell out of him. He knew that he was simply a pawn in some grand chess match that Dumbledore was playing, but Snape hated having the knowledge shoved down his throat in quite so blatant a fashion. Dumbledore had to know what the Courtship Ritual meant to him, indeed to most wizard-raised people and still he expected Snape to simply use it as if it were a tool, as if it were meaningless.

What was worse was that Snape would. Because it was every bit as necessary as Dumbledore said it was. How he hated his life sometimes.

*****

"Professor?" Potter's tentative voice as much as anything made Snape focus on him as he came through the door of his office.

Before Snape could say a word, Potter closed the door and cast a silencing charm. "I wanted to apologize for last night. I was wrong to blow up like that," he said, looking down and Snape was sure he was going for contrite.

"Very prettily said. Now, what do you want?" Snape said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. And given how angry he was about the encounter that was quite a considerable amount.

Potter's head snapped up and an outraged look flittered across his face before he could blank it. "I am trying to apologize."

"Why? You're not going to get out of the detentions, if that's what you're hoping." The boy was clearly trying to get away with something... but what, Snape wondered, and sighed.

"I didn't expect to. I deserved it." Potter looked down again.

That shocked Snape. Potter was not acting true to form and an unpredictable Potter was dangerous. It made him edgy and he resented it. "I don't understand why you feel the need to come begging for forgiveness."

"I wasn't thinking of it in those terms, but if it makes you feel better, then go ahead. I'm sorry. If you don't want to accept that, I'll just go." His tone had become resigned, sounding almost hurt. Potter was staring at the open doorway with some longing.

Snape had the feeling he was missing something and that annoyed him even more. "Potter, explain to me why you are here."

"You mean aside from the fact I was wrong and should not have spoken to you like that?" Potter's look said he didn't understand what Snape wanted from him.

"Why? You never felt the need before." Snape saw that he did seem repentant. "I can't quite fathom why this matters so much to you." He softened his voice ever so slightly. "Tell me."

"Will you believe me?" Potter asked, and for some reason it seemed to matter to him.

"Not without knowing." As much as Snape wished he could deny it, his curiosity had been piqued.

Potter looked right at him, without arrogance or defiance. "I don't want you to think that I'm like my father. I make my own mistakes. I don't want to be blamed for his."

Snape stared at him for a moment not sure what to say, but knowing that what he said next would be very important to both of them. "Why would that matter to you?"

"Because James might have been my father, but --" Potter looked away, his face a dull red, and then he shook his head and did not finish.

Snape waited a moment. After *that* incident, Snape had wondered if Potter had seen his father in a different light, especially when neither Potter nor any of his friends had ever referred to it in any way.

"All right. I'll concede, you're not like him."

"Right," Potter said, as if he wasn't sure he believed it. "I'm sorry I was rude."

Snape inclined his head. "Accepted."

"Thank you." Potter pulled out his wand, presumably to take down the silencing spell.

"Potter," Snape said. "You need to add the thistle needles one by one rather than all at once. It's in the reading I gave you last week."

For a moment, Potter's expression was shocked. "Thanks," he said, smiling that bright smile that he had.

Despite his better judgment, Snape allowed himself to be charmed by it. Then, he scowled to cover his momentary lapse. "You can brew it again for your detention tonight."

Potter nodded. He waved his wand, and then left, closing the door quietly behind him.

What was it about Potter that evoked so many more emotions that had nothing to do with anger and hatred, Snape wondered with a sigh. More importantly, when had Potter started to grow up and why hadn't he noticed before?

*****

"You've been almost nice out here," Potter said, sounding half-surprised.

Snape straightened from the slouch he'd allowed himself to affect as they stood across from each other on the bridge. "Whatever gave you the idea I was nice?"

"Perhaps nice isn't quite the word. More like, you're less horrid to me than you usually are." Potter smirked at him.

With a glare of irritation, Snape bit back the urge to say something scathing or take points.

Potter seemed to take that as tacit permission to continue. "It's the ritual, isn't it? You believe in it, so you're not being a bast--"

"You do not want to finish that sentence," Snape assured him with a flat stare.

"Got it. Still, you've been… well pleasant isn't any better than nice. I don't have a word for it." Potter looked at him expectantly.

"I am constantly amazed by your lack of eloquence with the English language. One would never know you were a native speaker."

Potter laughed at that. "See. That's what I mean. You just insulted me, and it was as if your heart wasn't in it."

He thought seriously of taking house points for insolence, but he could not quite bring himself to do it. For reasons that Snape didn't want to examine too closely, he would not profane what he was doing by being nasty, no matter the provocation. Gritting his teeth, Snape glared, but said nothing.

"Tell me about it. The Ritual, I mean. I know it's pretty complicated." Potter actually looked like he might be interested.

Or he could just be leading Snape on, looking for a new way to ridicule him. Snape wasn't about to take that chance. Not with Potter. "Ask Granger. I'm sure she'll have much to say about the subject."

In a few days, when Potter failed to accept the Declaration, it would all end. He told himself that he was looking forward to that. Being with Potter under these circumstances was draining as well as testing his patience to the absolute limit of his tolerance. The only thing that made it worthwhile was at the end, he would have the satisfaction of having done the Ritual properly.

Potter's brow creased. "I would ask her, but she hasn't said anything to me about it in a week. Of course, she has no reason to let me know if she's found something else."

"Why haven't you told her?" Snape was surprised that Potter had managed to keep it from his friends.

"Dumbledore told me not to," Potter said, giving him an irritated look.

"And you always follow the rules so well, don't you Potter?" It was too good an opening to pass up, Snape thought with a smirk.

"I try," Potter prevaricated without looking embarrassed in the slightest. "Or at least when I don't have good reason not to do so."

The boy was created to drive him mad. "Just who is to decide what a good reason is?"

It was so clear what Potter was thinking. "I need to do what I think is right."

"Regardless of the rules?" Snape asked silkily.

"Yes." He sounded so sure of himself and so righteous.

Annoyed beyond words, Snape took a step away from the side. "Enough for tonight. Go away."

Potter smirked again, no doubt thinking he'd won this round. "Yes, sir."

*****

"Harry," Hermione caught up with him at lunch the following day. "I've been researching the Wizarding courtship ritual."

"So you've said. Did you find out anything else that was interesting?" Harry asked, trying to sound a lot more casual than he felt about it.

"I've learned quite a number of things, actually."

He'd expected that she'd have that self-satisfied air to her, but she seemed puzzled instead. That worried him.

"Is there something else important?" Harry asked, a prickle of unease going through him. It would be just like both Snape and Dumbledore not to tell him something that was essential.

"I don't know. I think I'm missing a reference somewhere." Hermione seemed both irritated that she'd missed something and perplexed about what it was.

"Let me know, okay?" Harry hoped he didn't sound as worried as he felt. He hated not having the information that he needed, and he hadn't had time to do more than cursory research on the Ritual.

She stopped and looked at him, clearly hearing what he wasn't saying as she always did. "Are you going to accept his suit?"

"What?" He sucked in a breath, knowing already that he'd given himself away.

The passing students caught his attention, and he grabbed her arm, leading her away from the crowd. "Why do you think it's me?"

"Who else could it be? You and Snape. He's asked you to take a walk three times in the last two weeks."

"He gave me a week's detention and took seventy house points, as well. That doesn't sound like courtship to me." Harry tried to think of something else. "Besides, he always wants to talk to me about the defense lessons or Order business."

"Except that there is a Courtship table in the great hall." She did sound like a know-it-all sometimes.

Harry wasn't sure if he should be amused or annoyed. He tried to put her off one last time. "What makes you think it's him?"

This was Hermione and she never gave up. "Give over, Harry. He's going through the motions of a Formal Courtship. The question is why?"

"I don't suppose you'd believe I've fallen madly in love with him and him with me?"

Hermione shook her head very slowly. "Not in a million years."

"Thought not." With a deep sigh, Harry let his shoulders slump. "Voldemort thinks I'm crushing on him and Snape's supposed to court me. Then he's to lead me to Voldemort at the appropriate time."

"And you just agreed to this?" She sounded about as horrified as Harry felt about it.

But he nodded. "Dumbledore asked me to. I think Voldemort is going to do something awful to Snape if I don't do it."

"I can see that." Hermione nodded, her brow creased. "If you don't accept his Declaration and do a Recognition Ritual of your own, then it's all going to end in a couple days."

Harry wanted it to end. Although their private conversations hadn't been as acrimonious as he'd expected and he had to admit the potions help during the detentions was welcome, he didn't like Snape, and didn't want to have any more to do with him than he already was forced to have.

The problem was that since Snape was doing this because Voldemort told him to do it, the possible consequences to Snape were probably dire. As much as he mostly couldn't stand Snape, he didn't want to see him tortured or killed. Not if he could do something to stop it, even if that something was fairly inconvenient, and disconcerting in the extreme.

"What's involved in the ritual?" he asked with a sigh of resignation.

A couple of second years went past them, and Hermione shook her head. "Not here."

*****

Late the following night, Harry entered the hall carrying a candle he'd made to the specifications Hermione had given him. After everything, he couldn't quite believe he was going to continue the charade. Unfortunately, he knew that it was necessary. And, it wasn't as if he had to marry the greasy git, just allow the courtship to continue.

"What are you doing out of bed at this hour, Potter?" Snape swept across the hall, robes flaring dramatically. He stopped when he saw the candle in Harry's hand.

"I'm told I need to do this privately." Harry couldn't look at him. His hands were starting to sweat. Nervously, he clutched the candle tighter.

Looking a bit startled, Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you're doing it at all."

"Well, if you'd told me it was necessary, I would have done it sooner," Harry said with more bravado than he felt. He wished he could get rid of Snape and get this over with before he thought better of it.

"It isn't." Snape looked right at him with that intense, penetrating gaze he had. "Necessary that is."

The look made Harry shiver. He knew it *was* necessary. He rather thought they both knew it. "What is Voldemort going to say when you can't keep courting me?"

"He won't be pleased." From Snape's tone it was clear that was an understatement.

Thinking about what Voldemort would do to Snape made Harry's stomach tighten with dread, and it served to strengthen his resolve. "We need the information you're getting from him. This has to continue. So, why don't you get lost and let me do this."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your disrespect." Snape said it with a sigh in his voice almost as if it were a burden rather than a joy.

"Bastard," Harry hissed through his clenched teeth. Here he was, trying to help the greasy git and Snape was taking points. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Twenty points." This time there was more force behind the words. He'd finally succeeded in annoying Snape.

"Tell me again why I'm trying to make your life easier?" Harry snapped. He looked at Snape and saw how pale he was. It occurred to him that perhaps Snape was scared of what might happen, too. And being Snape, he was taking it out on the one person who was trying to help him.

"I can't imagine why you would want to, Potter." Snape gave him a slightly less unpleasant look. "I have no idea what you hope to gain from this…display."

"At the rate I'm losing points, clearly I'm not going to gain anything." He didn't want all of his sympathy for Snape to dissipate or he wouldn't do this. "Will you leave now?"

Snape looked at him for one more minute, as if trying to gauge what he was thinking, but then shrugged.

"Do not leave here after you've finished. I'll return and you will watch me perform the Acceptance Ritual," Snape finally said.

"I thought I was doing the Acceptance Ritual." Harry held up the candle as a visual aide.

"Do as I've said." Snape stalked away.

With a sigh of resignation, Harry stepped up to the table and put his candle beside Snape's. He took the glass rod and touched the flame, then lit the candle. Stepping back, he muttered the few words he was supposed to say. A curiously warm, safe feeling invaded his chest. Closing his eyes for a moment, he savored it.

When it faded, he sat down at the end of the Hufflepuff table. It was late and he wasn't crazy about waiting in the cold hall for Snape to show up.

About half an hour later, Snape finally re-entered the hall, barefooted, with damp hair. Wearing a loose fitting robe that looked like he had nothing on underneath it, Snape strode quickly to the small table. He motioned for Harry to join him and they both stood in front of the shrine. Snape bowed and glanced meaningfully at Harry. Taking the cue, Harry bowed, too. Snape picked up Harry's lit candle and lit his own with it, muttering the Latin too quickly for Harry to catch it.

He took two steps back, bowed again and Harry followed suit.

Another moment or two passed and Harry felt a tingle of magic slide down his spine. Harry glanced at the table again, and was surprised to see there was only one large candle where there had been two smaller ones before. That warm feeling was back in his chest, too. Harry would have liked to have asked what it was about, but Snape's eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.

When the feeling faded this time, Harry was very tired. Snape nodded once and then turned around, walking out without another word.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of any of it.

*****

"Why is everyone around the table now?" Harry asked as he and Hermione and Ron came into the hall for breakfast the next morning. "I thought it was private."

"Well, whomever it is has accepted the suit. So, we'll all know who it is soon enough." Ron sounded very eager to know. "Their names should be inscribed over the table."

"What?" Harry was appalled by the squeak in his voice. Their names hadn't been there last night. He looked at Hermione. "You didn't tell me it would happen like this."

"Why would she tell you--" Ron's eyes widened. "Who?" He glanced over at the table, and Harry's eyes followed him. Both his full name and Snape's were lit up over the table for everyone to see.

Ron went pale and then red. "No. No. I can't believe he asked and you accepted. You don't have time for us now. Are you mad?"

It was like a nightmare from fourth year, watching Ron back away from him, horror and outrage turning his face red. Harry felt like he'd been stabbed, but he was determined not to let it show. "Ron," he said coolly, hoping his tone would convey his exasperation rather than potential hurt. "Think before you say anything."

"Ron, don't make a scene. Let Harry explain," Hermione pleaded, her voice pitched so that it would not carry beyond them.

"You've got five seconds to tell me why you accepted a suit from Snape. What could he possibly give you that would make you want him? You could have anyone…anyone." Ron was literally shaking with rage.

It never occurred to him that Ron would create such a scene, at least not in the middle of the Great Hall. Everyone was watching them. As much as he would have liked to tell Ron the truth, he'd just been pushed into a corner and now he was trapped. Harry squared his shoulders. "I did it because I wanted to. Maybe, just maybe, someone wants me for me -- rather than the bloody Boy Who Lived."

Ron's face was so red that he looked like he might have a stroke. Instead of raging as Harry had expected, Ron sucked in a deep breath and seemed to get a hold on his temper. "I'm quit of you," he said quietly and walked away.

"Ron! Don't say that," Hermione said, sounding horrified. She went after him, leaving Harry alone.

"You and Professor Snape?" Malfoy's tone was so incredulous that Harry could have laughed. If he hadn't just declared that he was going to…. Oh, God what was he doing? Fighting back the urge to laugh maniacally, Harry took a breath and then another.

Calm, he told himself, go sit down and be calm. He met Malfoy's eyes and grinned. "As a matter of fact, yes."

Malfoy's face went red and he sputtered out something Harry didn't catch, then walked way.

The entire length of the Gryffindor table was in an uproar. Hermione and Ron were yelling at each other. There was more yelling and some swearing coming from other parts of the table as well as the rest of the hall.

As odd as it was, no one said anything to him as he sat down and ate his breakfast. After a few minutes, he glanced up at the head table. Snape nodded to him and he nodded back. Harry could tell already, it was going to be a long day.

*****

"Mr. Potter." Professor Vector's voice stopped Harry in mid-step as he left the Great Hall after breakfast. "A moment of your time, if you please?"

So, it's going to start already, Harry thought as he turned to watch her advance on him. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I hadn't realized you were so close to Professor Snape." She didn't seem entirely disapproving, for which Harry was quite surprised, but nonetheless grateful.

Looking down, Harry felt awkward, and wished he wasn't blushing. He had no idea what to say to her. "Well, you know…."

"No," she said, speaking to him as if he were slow to comprehend. "I don't know. As I was given to understand, the two of you did not get on at all."

"Not in class." Harry still didn't meet her gaze, but something in her tone surprised him. "But you know, we worked together…." He wasn't sure how much to say. Vector wasn't a member of the Order, and even if she were, he didn't know what Dumbledore had said to anyone on this. He supposed he'd better ask Snape what to do. "Professor Snape has been helping me with Potions."

"Ah." Her expression was curious and mild, but she was still waiting for something more.

Harry tried not to squirm. "When we're alone, working together… it's…" He thought frantically for something that would be believed. "He's different. He understands me." He met her eyes. "He knows what I need."

"And because of that, you've developed feelings for him?" she finished for him.

"Yes, ma'am." Harry was relieved she seemed to accept that.

"Well, congratulations then." Her smile did not reach her eyes.

As she walked away, Hermione came out of the hall still arguing with Ron. He walked past Harry as if he weren't there, and Hermione stopped, looking after him and then sighed. "He's being such a prat."

"This is different from any other time in what way?" Harry knew Ron was going to feel like an idiot when this was all over, presuming they all survived it.

"Did I see you talking to Vector?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, she didn't seem to believe that I could have feelings for Snape." Harry laughed and looked around, relieved to see there was no one who could have heard him. "I think people are too smart for this."

Hermione nodded, her look sympathetic. "You have to admit it's pretty far fetched. I'll bet you have people asking you about it all day."

"I reckon that you're right. We probably should have thought of a reasonable explanation before this." Actually, they should have not done this at all. Harry sighed. It was too late to take it back now.

"Come on, we've got class." Hermione waved him ahead of her and they both started down the corridor.

*****

"Severus, Are you busy?" Filius Flitwick's voice startled Snape out of his concentration on abysmally bad first year potions essays.

"Yes, Filius, I am. What is it you want?" Not that he was ever in the mood to deal with the perpetually pleasant Flitwick, but this morning in particular he was singularly ill-equipped.

"Only to offer my felicitations on Mr. Potter's acceptance of your suit." Surprisingly, Flitwick appeared pleased about it. Although, Snape conceded, that could be simply good manners on Flitwick's part. "I must say that I'm surprised to find that the two of you were so close."

Snape resisted the urge to grimace at the idea of being that close to Potter, but he nodded without returning Flitwick's smile. "Obviously, you haven't been paying enough attention."

"Quite the contrary, Severus. I pay a great deal of attention. I think someone would have noticed a softening of your attitude." Flitwick didn't seem quite so jovial. Indeed, he seemed overly concerned about it.

What did he think, Snape wondered, that he'd somehow coerced Potter into agreeing?

Whatever Flitwick thought was neither here nor there to Snape and he returned the look with a glare. "I believe that what is between Mr. Potter and myself is just that, between the two of us."

"You're right, of course. Forgive my rudeness. I meant only to offer congratulations." Flitwick smiled again, but his good-humored disposition had dissipated, leaving him with a displeased look on his face that no doubt rivaled Snape's own.

Snape sighed. He was not in the mood to be even remotely polite. This whole arrangement was starting to give him a sour stomach. "Thank you," he said coolly, hoping Flitwick would take the hint.

He didn't, continuing to stand at Snape's desk, regarding him, silently.

"Was there something else you wanted to discuss with me? As you can see, I am rather busy." Snape waved a hand at the pile of essays. He didn't have the time nor the patience for this.

Flitwick looked as though he might say something, but then thought better of it. "Nothing at all. Good day."

Snape nodded. He supposed that it would be rather awkward as people got used to the idea. Merlin knew, he would need time to get used it.

As Flitwick left, Potter came in.

"What do you want?" Snape was not in the proper frame of mind to deal with any more problems and Potter was always a problem.

Potter made a show of looking around and then came close to his desk, leaning over a bit. "I was wondering if the headmaster has told anyone about…" He looked around again.

"No." Snape felt his annoyance rise. Potter had been told not to mention it to anyone and had promised not to. "Whom have you told?"

"No one, except Hermione. But no one seems to know that it's not--"

"Potter," Snape said warningly. "Never presume anything."

At least the boy understood that and nodded. "But I thought --"

"That is a problem for you, isn't it?" Snape couldn't help the smirk. "You always assume."

Potter's jaw tightened and he looked as if he were going to say something that would land him in detention.

Snape was almost disappointed that he managed to pull it back. "About the other teachers --"

"Has anyone you've encountered been rude to you in that regard?" Those kinds of poor manners would require that Snape do something about it.

"Not rude. But they all seemed to want to ask about it. No one knows."

"Of course they don't know. How would anyone have known this was coming?" Snape heard a faint noise outside his office door. He flicked his eyes in that direction and then back to Potter.

Even if he weren't the most intelligent wizard on earth, Potter could take a broad hint when he had to. He kept his eyes on Snape and added a bit of whine to his voice. "You're right, sir. It's just I expected everyone to know how we felt. I thought it was obvious."

Snape shook his head and produced a fond but exasperated look. "I assure you it was not obvious at all. In fact, I'm sure we've shocked quite a number of your professors as well as your classmates. You must let me know if someone, especially a teacher, is rude to you."

"Going to protect me, sir?" Potter had the audacity to bat his eyes at him.

Torn between wanting to hex the reckless fool and laughing out loud, Snape managed to do neither. "I've always protected you."

"So you have." Potter met his eyes and surprisingly, there was no amusement in them. "I have Transfigurations now."

"I'm sure your head of house will have something to say to you, as well."

Potter nodded.

*****

Harry hurried towards McGonagall's class room, thinking about the bizarre scene with Snape. He hadn't seen anyone lurking in the halls when he'd left the office, not that he'd expected to. Deep into his own thoughts, he nearly tripped over Mrs. Norris as she came out of a darkened corridor.

"Watch yourself, boy," Filch said, his voice as unpleasant as he was. He picked up the cat and smirked at Harry. "Wouldn't want to hurt my cat, now would you?"

"No. I'm sorry. I need to get to class." Harry tried to sidle past them both. Even after all these years, there was something about Filch that still made Harry queasy with unnamed dread.

"Smart of you to attach yourself to someone like the Professor." Filch actually sounded like he approved.

But Harry could never tell with him and didn't care to stick around long enough to find out. Besides which, Filch's approval was about the last thing Harry wanted. "I've got to get to class."

Filch laughed and let the cat down. "Go. Wouldn't want you to be late."

With a shiver, Harry hurried away.

*****

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's voice stopped him before he reached the edge of her classroom after class. "I'd like to speak to you, if you would?"

Even phrased like that, he knew it wasn't a request. He turned slowly, assuring himself that he'd done nothing wrong. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I understand you've accepted Professor Snape's Declaration." She seemed more disproving than his other teachers had been.

Harry supposed that he could understand why. What surprised him was that Dumbledore hadn't told her, of all of them, what was going on.

Yes ma'am," he said, keeping his tone mild and polite. He didn't want her angry with him, too. The rest of his housemates were going to be enough to deal with.

"May I know why?"

If Dumbledore hadn't told her, it wasn't his place to do so. He felt trapped, and was irritated with Dumbledore for having put him in the position with his head of house. "I think the answer should be self-evident."

The expression on her face hardened and she looked as if she'd eaten something foul. "Don't get smart with me, young man. If you don't want to answer, have the courage to say so."

"I don't want to answer, ma'am," Harry said, looking her right in the eyes and daring her to make an issue of it.

"If you are in need of assistance with the ritual ahead, please let me know," McGonagall said stiffly, dismissing him.

"Thank you." Harry closed his eyes and tried to find some calm. It would be a very bad idea to leave her aggravated with him. "He's…" God, he couldn't think of anything plausible, hell implausible, to say about him and Snape. "I know you're worried. Don't be, okay. I know what I'm doing."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow and did not look convinced. "Do you? Or are you grasping at the first person to offer you something you think you're missing."

Harry opened his mouth to deny it categorically, but she cut him off before he could get the words out.

"Mr. Potter, can you honestly tell me you have feelings for Professor Snape? Especially given how he's treated you over the years."

"Yes ma'am. I can." It was true. He did have feelings for Snape. They just weren't the ones that she was talking about.

"All right. You're of age. There is nothing I can do about it." The displeasure in her voice made it clear that if there had been, she would have acted upon it.

"You don't approve?" Harry asked. If he let her say it she might feel better and less inclined to take it out on him later.

"Not in the slightest. He's your teacher." She stood up straight and prim. "If he had feelings for you, he should have waited until you left school."

"I was told this type of courtship was allowed between a student and teacher." Not that Harry understood why. It seemed somewhat improper, but that was the wizarding world.

"It is. But that doesn't make it right."

There was nothing he could say to that. "May I go?" he asked, knowing a losing situation when he was in one.

"Yes. Remember what I said."

With a quick nod, Harry made his escape.

*****

Harry entered the common room that night to a sudden, but expected silence. Quickly, he looked around, hoping to find Hermione, but she wasn't in the room. "What?" he asked, when no one would make eye contact with him. It was obvious what they all were thinking and he wondered how good his acting was.

"Congratulations on your acceptance of Professor Snape's Declaration. I wish you all the best of luck with your Courtship," Neville said, a bit more formally than Harry would have expected. If he'd expected anyone to say anything positive, which he hadn't.

"How could you?" Dean asked, moving from the sofa to stand in front of Harry with his arms folded over his chest, looking betrayed and furious. The revulsion on his face less of a shock than Neville's pleasantness.

"Dean!" Ginny's tone was sharply disapproving. "Do you know how rude that is?"

"She's right," Neville agreed, giving Ginny an approving look. "It's terribly rude to question the Intended's acceptance."

"How can you say that?" Dean looked simply appalled. "He's agreed to let Snape court him. I can't believe it. Fucking Snape -- the greasy bastard who's made our lives hell for the last seven years." He looked from Neville to Harry. "How could you do that? What were you thinking? Man, that is so sick."

Harry hadn't come up with a plausible explanation yet and he tried to wing it. "I got to know him --"

Lavender moved from her perch on one of the large chairs by the fire to join their circle. Harry expected her to berate him as well, but she surprised him by saying, "If you can't offer congratulations, then you shouldn't say anything at all."

"Got to know Snape? How?" Dean asked, ignoring Lavender. He shook his head as if he did not believe it was possible to know Snape.

Something about that annoyed Harry and he said, "I've worked with him on…stuff"

"What stuff?" Dean asked accusingly.

Harry wasn't about to go into the Occlumency lessons, nor the defense lessons, even if he was in the DA. Besides, Dean was one of the worst gossips in their class, second only to Lavender. For help, he looked at Neville. "Why was it rude?"

Dean sputtered and opened his mouth to say something else, but Ginny's glare cut him off. He closed it again without uttering a word.

"The Courtship Ritual is one of the wizarding world's oldest traditions, dating back to the time of the founders." Neville looked at Dean, annoyed. Or at least as annoyed as he ever got. "It's never entered into lightly."

Lavender gave him another disapproving look. "You should apologize, Dean."

To Harry's utter shock, several of the other people standing around, including Seamus and Parvati, also nodded in agreement.

"Why?" Harry finally asked. He'd expected to be ostracized - that no one would talk to him after this. He'd been preparing himself for it all day and trying hard not to regret his decision to cooperate.

"Traditionally, this type of courtship was done with arranged marriages, so that the participants could get to know each other. Nowadays, couples do it to show respect for the old traditions and their Intended." Ginny smiled, seemingly taken with the idea, though Harry had no idea why she should be.

Harry's confusion must have showed on his face.

"It's a way to get to know someone slowly, courteously. It shows the Suitor's respect for his or her Intended. It's also so romantic to be courted like that," Lavender said in a breathy kind of tone that said she too was taken with the idea.

That was a laugh, Harry thought. Snape had no respect for him at all and took a great deal of delighting in telling him so at every opportunity. And the thought of anything romantic with Snape turned his stomach.

Ginny nodded, smiling briefly at Neville. "That's why it's acceptable for a teacher and student. If either were just interested in sex, they wouldn't go to all the trouble. This is about deeper feelings. It's about permanence."

Under other circumstances, Harry would have liked to have something permanent and stable with someone who respected him, but that would not be Snape.

"Why?" Dean asked, and now he looked more puzzled than mean-spirited.

"It's true. My uncle Raul and aunt Sterilia had this kind of courtship," Neville said, with a nervous laugh. "I think that's why they did it that way. Even though Gram hated aunt Sterilia, she couldn't force uncle Raul to divorce her."

"I didn't know that." Harry was so appalled that his voice cracked. He reminded himself that he wasn't going complete the courtship, let alone actually marry Snape. "I meant about the no divorce."

"The spells that bind the Courtship are woven into the two people so intricately, they are impossible to break. Especially after they have been consummated. Signing the marriage document is only a formality at that point," Neville said.

Harry forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as sick as he felt. "I guess I hadn't thought of that. It's not like it would matter anyway."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude to you Harry." Offering his hand to Harry, Dean's expression looked more outraged than accepting, but clearly he was going to try to accept it.

"It's all right." Harry shook his hand, and smiled weakly. He wanted to tell Dean that he understood completely how he felt, that he felt that way himself. Instead, he let go and stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward with the acceptance he'd received.

Before anything else could happen, the portrait opened, and Ron walked in. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped past the freezing point, and everyone looked away. With a fierce scowl, Ron said nothing and went up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Harry sighed, relieved that he hadn't had to defend his choice -- even if it weren't his choice.

*****

"Professor," Potter called to him as Snape was about to leave the Great Hall after dinner.

He turned and remembered at the last moment, not to glare at the insolent boy. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I was wondering," Potter said softly, his face flushing. "If you'd care to walk with me for a bit?"

Surprised, but pleased that Potter had shown some initiative to do this properly, Snape bowed slightly. "I would."

Potter held out his arm for Snape to precede him, and Snape did so, wondering what Potter was going to want for his cooperation. "The bridge?" he asked as they started down the corridor side by side.

"Might as well." Potter walked beside him in silence until they reached it. "This seems to be our hang-out."

He wasn't quite sure why, but Snape found the term amusing. "Our what, Mr. Potter?"

"It's a Muggle term meaning a place where we spend time together." Potter gave him that insolent smile he had.

Instead of it being annoying, it was something else entirely, but Snape refused to consider what it was. He leaned against the ledge, looking out over the darkened lawns of the school. "I'm surprised you are still willing to participate, given everything."

"Ron's a prat, if that's what you mean." Potter sounded rather sure of that.

It wasn't what he'd meant. However, Snape was more than willing to let him think so. "You could simply tell him the truth."

"I would have, if he hadn't made that scene. Now, if he changes how he acts it will look suspicious. He needs to be angry for a week or two, and then come round. Seems to be his pattern whenever he's angry about something."

Snape sighed, impressed with Potter's assessment of the situation. "You don't seem unduly upset."

"I've been friends with Ron for years. I know how hot his temper runs. He's going to feel pretty stupid when this ends." Potter seemed to find that amusing.

"Yes, I imagine he will. After you ask me to walk twice more, we'll begin the Negotiation Ritual."

"Which means?"

"Unfortunately, it means that we will be required to spend more time together." Snape couldn't quite put enough annoyance in his tone to make it sound as if he hated the idea. "There will be some discussion required."

"Of what, exactly?" Potter looked at him suspiciously.

Snape decided he didn't want to go into the exact nature of the negotiations with Potter in public. He couldn't be sure that Potter would not throw a tantrum when he heard the details. "We'll discuss it in detail when we start."

"Why not now?" Potter glared at him and Snape had to wonder if some of that defiance wasn't fear.

"It won't be awful. I promise you that. It's simply time consuming." It was not in his nature to be reassuring, but he didn't want Potter to be overly concerned.

"Oh, great. As if I've got time for anything else," Potter muttered, sounding slightly less insolent. "I've got exams coming up this month. After that I have to start revising for my NEWTs."

"I may be of some assistance with your potions NEWT." Snape could not believe he'd just made such an offer. He wanted to pull the words back as soon as he'd said them.

Potter looked up, seemingly shocked at the idea. "Would you?"

His first thought was to smack down the half-hopeful expression on Potter's face, but he bit the impulse back. "It will be a way to spend time together that will be within the parameters of a student-teacher relationship as well as the Courtship Ritual."

"We already spend a lot of time together, but that will help me out, too." Potter actually smiled at him.

Snape didn't like the way that smile made him feel, not at all. He sneered to cover his discomfort. "I'm sure that is my highest goal."

As if he knew what Snape were thinking, Potter laughed. "Thanks. It's good to know that you care so much."

At Snape's scowl, Potter laughed even harder, and Snape couldn't hold onto his ire.

"Maybe I'll have a hope in hell of passing," Potter said, sounding like he was pleased with the prospect.

Snape, however, was well aware of Potter's potions abilities. "Even with my help, I wouldn't count on it, were I you."

*****

"You needn't have asked me a second night in a row," Snape said leaning against the opposite wall of the bridge, regarding Potter. He'd been pleased that Potter seemed eager until he remembered that it was ignorance driving him, not enthusiasm.

Potter flushed and looked down at his scuffed shoes. "Was it wrong?"

"Not wrong," Snape tried to sound reassuring, something he seemed to be doing too often with Potter. "But you don't want to seem too eager. Or your Intended might take it incorrectly. Think that you were more involved than you actually are."

"I'm not worried about that." Potter looked like he didn't believe it were possible. Stupid boy.

"Wait a few days before you ask the last time," Snape advised, willing to let him believe as he chose.

"Do we want to draw this out?" Potter asked after a moment more of silence.

"As far and as long as possible." Snape let out a deep breath. "Within the time limits of the Ritual, of course."

"How long is that?"

"I was hoping to draw this stage out until the Spring." Snape looked at Potter trying to judge his mood. "The Dark Lord is planning something for then."

"Involving me?" Potter's expression became troubled. Perhaps he was not as stupid as Snape thought he was.

"I suspect so." He'd never approved of Dumbledore keeping Potter in the dark about what was going on. If Potter couldn't see what was coming for him, how could he possibly be prepared for it? "I am unaware of any details."

"Would you tell me if you were?" It was fairly obvious that Potter did not trust him to be honest.

That bothered Snape. Indeed, he disliked the thought intensely. "I would tell you if I knew anything."

"Since you don't, that's not much of a help." Potter had an annoying whine in his tone that grated on Snape's already frayed nerves. "Everyone always knows more than I do about what's going to happen to me. Why should I even bother studying for my NEWTs. I might not live to take them."

As much as Snape would have liked to disagree with the assessment, he knew that he couldn't. "It's not fair to you, but life is not fair."

"Big revelation there, Professor." He laughed, sounding every bit as bitter as he had a right to sound.

"I'm sorry." Snape could not believe he was trying to comfort Potter. He had no idea why it should even matter to him at all.

Potter's eyes went wide, and he snorted. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Neither can I." Snape chuckled, amused with Potter's reaction, despite himself.

Potter took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What should I do?"

That Potter would ask surprised him. He gave it a moment's thought before he replied, wishing there were some easy answer and knowing, disappointingly, there was not. "Study, train, continue to live your life as you have done."

"Continue to let you court me?" There was no disrespect or mockery in Potter's tone, or his expression.

"If you choose to. You may stop at any time." He told himself that he wanted Potter to call a halt to the charade, but some small part of him knew it wasn't wholly true anymore. "We'll move on to Ritual of Negotiation next."

"Are you going to tell me about it or make me ask Hermione?" Potter still sounded amused.

"When we meet again, I'll explain what happens next."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, Potter. You have no idea what it shall entail."

*****

"Okay…so, let me see if I have this right," Harry said still not quite believing what Snape had just said to him. "We, as in you and I, are supposed to negotiate the details of our married lives together?"

"You do occasionally pay attention, don't you? I'm quite shocked to discover this." Snape's tone was sarcastic, but it wasn't vengeful or mean-spirited.

Harry had to smile at that. It hadn't taken him that long to realize that not every mean thing Snape said was intended to do harm.

He and Snape were sitting across from each other at Snape's desk, with the office door open. There was a length of blank parchment between them, and a dictation quill hovered above it.

"We shall negotiate the typical household details." Snape tone had gone back to the slightly edgy sound he used when dealing with Harry over something about the ritual.

Harry snorted. "As if I grew up in a typical household and have any idea what that would be."

Snape's brow furrowed and he frowned. "I did not either."

"At least you had a mother and father."

"Such as they were." Surprisingly, Snape did not sound half so bitter as Harry expected.

"You also had relatives," Harry pointed out and then remembered, "I did too, didn't I? Of course, yours weren't as foul as mine. At least, they didn't seem that way."

"How much of my life do you know?" Snape had that uneasy look on his face again.

It made Harry very uncomfortable to think about the carelessness with which they had plundered one another's minds during the Occlumency lessons. "We were both a little too good at attacking by the end, weren't we?"

Also looking discomfited, Snape nodded. "Though I suspect we know less than we think."

"Don't tell me you don't know all about my growing up with the Dursleys." Harry looked right at him. "I know you were the one who told the Order to have that little chat with Vernon Dursley."

"What makes you think I had anything to do with that?" Snape's tone was perfectly flat and if Harry hadn't known him better, he would have believed the denial.

"Who else knew?" He'd tried never to say anything, except to Dumbledore, who'd ignored him in favor of the supposed protections of his mother's family. The Order had shown up at Kings Crossing Station the end of his sixth year as they had the end of fifth year. Vernon had been puce with rage, but had also been wise enough not to say or do anything at all last summer.

Not that the summer had been pleasant by any means, but it hadn't been anywhere near as horrid as it could have been or as bad as Harry had feared it would be.

Snape looked as if he were fighting some kind of internal battle and then he sighed. "You must remain alive long enough to defeat the Dark Lord. It would not do if your Uncle were to take it into his head to attempt more than verbal abuse."

"He's not going to kill me." Harry was nearly sure of that. Vernon had never raised a hand to him, except to threaten. Of course, Dudley had beaten the hell out of him for years and the last two summers he hadn't dared touch Harry. "Thanks."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Snape sighed again. "You are quit of them."

"So," Harry said, wanting to be off the subject of the Dursleys. "About the typical details? What are we talking about here?"

"All manner of domestic details." Snape was silent for a moment. "How such chores as cooking and cleaning and shopping are handled. Household finances. The laundry." He paused and then met Harry's eyes. "Sex. Children."

Harry looked away and couldn't understand why he was blushing. "We're two guys, I'm thinking that children are not going to be an issue with us."

"Wizards can have children." Snape looked at him in that way that made Harry think he'd missed something. Again.

He considered the options. "We could adopt, I guess."

"It is possible. Many Muggle children are abandoned or mistreated once their magic starts to manifest. There are also a fair number who are simply left at Hogwarts after their first year."

The very idea made Harry feel sick to his stomach. "How can people do that to their own children?"

"You know this only too well. Fear."

"Would you want to adopt children?" Harry wasn't ready to have children yet, but adoption was probably their best bet for the future. He hoped Snape didn't have any objections to that.

"I'd rather have children of my own." Snape had a weird faraway look in his eyes that did not give Harry a warm feeling.

"Well, at least we don't have to negotiate that."

Snape looked pointedly at him and raised an eyebrow in that way that let him know he wasn't going to like what Snape said next. "You do realize that two wizards can have children *together*."

As his stomach roiled at the idea, Harry shook his head emphatically. He stood and backed away quickly. His heart pounding wildly. "No. I'm not a girl. You can't force me to do that." He looked towards the open door, his mind screaming escape now!

"Calm down, Potter. No one is asking you do anything you don't want to do." Snape's voice was sharp. "And please remember that we are negotiating a contract that shall never be used. Beyond that, has none of your classmates told you they had two fathers or two mothers?"

Harry shook his head. "Not that I remember. But even then I wouldn't have thought of it *that* way. I'd think they were gay."

"Exactly so. They would be. It's not a secret that Blaise Zabini has two fathers."

Harry sat down again, breathing deeply and evenly. He felt like an idiot for overreacting. After a moment, he debated making a nasty comment about Zabini, but decided that Snape would not appreciate it and as much as he might get some satisfaction out of doing it, it wasn't worth the points. "I didn't even know that such a thing was possible."

"I'm not sure why you've had such a strong reaction. As I understand it, it's possible in the Muggle world as well."

Even spending his summers with the Dursleys, Harry had been isolated from the rest of the greater world. "I don't have much idea what is possible or not possible in the Muggle world. I didn't know."

"It's still quite rare, but I've read some of the research on the subject. Muggles are not nearly so advanced in their sciences as we are in our magic. It's been possible for many hundreds of years in our society."

"But how?" Harry could barely take in the concept of it. "And why would a man want to?"

Snape looked faintly disgusted. "You're still thinking like a Muggle. A witch and wizard, who want a large family, might also have the wizard carry a few of the children."

The idea of Arthur Weasley pregnant made Harry giggle nervously.

Snape seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "Six pregnancies so close together would not have done Molly Weasley's health much good at all. Even as strong as she is."

"How does it work?" Harry had a weird sense of curiosity about it, despite horror at the very idea.

"There are several ways to do it. The most common and the safest is to magically attach a birthing pouch to the front of the male's abdomen--"

"Kind of like a kangaroo?" Harry thought that actually made some sense.

"Somewhat similar. I believe the kangaroo is actually born and then crawls into the pouch to finish growing to viability. The wizard's fetus develops completely against the male's body, getting what it needs from magical ingestion tubes rather like a regular fetus. But because it is external rather than internal, the demands of pregnancy are less on the body, at least in the beginning. Generally, a male has to go to bed after the seventh month. Our bodies are not designed for the drain that the growing fetus puts on them later in pregnancy."

"They look like they have a pot belly?" Harry thought about the fat wizards he'd seen around and wondered if they were actually carrying a child. "What are the other ways to do it?"

"Spells and potions can create temporary female organs in a male. Also there are spells and potions to change a man into a hermaphrodite, temporarily. Both are much more dangerous since the body doesn't always change correctly and sometimes can't change back."

Harry shivered and felt a little queasy. "It sounds like you think this is normal."

"It is normal. Not every male will do it, but it is an option for those who wish to have a child and do not wish to also have a wife. Or for those who wish to have a very large family.

"Not me," Harry assured him. He could not imagine doing that, not for any reason.

"Are you against the idea of carrying children or do you object to children in general?" There was something about Snape's tone that made Harry look at him, but his face gave nothing away.

"If I didn't so completely prefer men to women, I would have loved to have had a huge family with lots of kids to raise and love." Damn, that sounded depressingly wistful, Harry thought, bracing himself for Snape to make a scathing comment.

Snape looked like he was considering something and cleared his throat several times before he spoke. "I would be willing to bear the children."

What? Did he just say… Harry's thoughts trailed off in shocked disbelief. He choked back a snort of astonishment. Even if that did not connect with his knowledge or image of Snape at all, he could see Snape was serious. "I thought you hated children."

"I dislike disrespectful, stupid, and unmanageable students. I do not hate children in general and I'm quite sure my own would be wonderful. How could they not be?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something to that and found that he could think of nothing to say that wasn't insulting. And somehow, that didn't fit right now. "Okay."

"You needn't seem so surprised. The idea is not abhorrent to me at all. Indeed --"

"If this were real negotiations, I would say that I would be honored to let you do it." Harry meant that. He wanted children. "How many would you consider having?"

"How many do you want?" Snape had a calculating look in his eyes.

Harry wasn't sure he trusted it. "How about six?"

Snape looked like he might choke. "I think that is excessive."'

"Then two? I don't want to have an only child if we can avoid it."

Snape nodded. "Three?"

"Yes. That would be great." Harry frowned as something else occurred to him. "What about your age?"

"I'm old enough to bear children, Potter."

"No, I mean, that you must be pushing forty." Harry saw his look of confusion and thought perhaps he should drop it. "A Muggle woman doesn't generally have an easy time of it after forty. I heard Petunia going on and on about the length Vernon's secretary went to while trying to get pregnant in her late thirties. I hope it won't be difficult for you."

"I am neither a Muggle nor a woman. As such, I may have as many children as I please." Snape's voice was tart with his obvious amusement.

Harry was relieved that he hadn't insulted him. "I'm having a pretty hard time imagining you barefoot and pregnant."

"Suffice it to say, you know precious little about me." Snape's tone lost some of its previous amusement.

As much as it bothered him to admit it, Harry had to agree with that assessment. That he wanted it to change disconcerted him even more. "You'd think for all the time that I spent barging through your mind, I would know more about you."

Snape shook his head, looking quite exasperated. "That isn't the way to learn anything."

"I reckon you're right." Harry hated thinking about the private images Snape had seen and probably misinterpreted. No doubt, just as he had done. "So, three children then?"

"Acceptable. Perhaps two to three years apart, however not more than five years between them."

"That sounds reasonable." Harry realized what he'd said, and what they'd been talking about. "Did we just agree to have children together?"

Snape looked stunned as if he hadn't actually considered what he'd been doing either. "Yes, I believe that we did."

"I'm… damn, I'm not sure what I am aside from astounded." He wasn't going to marry Snape, but he felt good about what they'd just done. That was wrong on too many levels to even contemplate.

"I will admit that the conversation has been surreal." He glanced up at the clock. "It's time for you to return to your common room."

Harry stood, relieved. He needed some time to think about this. "Yes, sir."

*****

They met every few days to work on the contract. Harry sat at Snape's desk, waiting for him to finish up a potion for Madam Pomfrey. It had surprised Harry how much he'd liked the negotiations so far. Well, liked might not be precisely the right word, he decided, more that they turned out to be interesting in and of themselves. Indeed, he was eager to continue.

Snape came in and sat down. "Not all the negotiations are about serious matters such as children and division of chores."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waited. If he'd learned nothing else about Snape, it was that he liked to say and do things in his own way and time. Which unfortunately for Harry didn't always agree with his way and time.

"We might, for instance, negotiate the type of bed we'll sleep in --"

"Bed?" Harry wasn't sure he liked the context of that at all. His mind didn't want to go there yet. Or maybe not at all.

"You needn't look quite so horrified. I realize you're too mentally impaired to understand everything we talk about, but you might *try* to remember that these negotiations are not real. That we are doing this as a matter of form. No one is asking you to do anything." Snape met his eyes and smirked.

Anything Harry could say was going come out wrong and he knew it. He gulped and looked away, deciding that this was one of those times when keeping his mouth shut was his best survival option.

Snape seemed to appreciate what he'd figured out and continued, "We will decide on the size of the bed, the bedding color, curtain color, perhaps fabrics if you have a preference beyond cotton?"

"That is the silliest thing I've ever heard. Why would it matter?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. So much for survival options.

"So you won't mind sleeping on green wool sheets with silver snakes on them?" Snape's tone was serious enough for Harry to wonder if he didn't sleep on that himself.

"Those would not be my first choice, no." Harry shuddered in mock horror. "First off, wouldn't the wool be really scratchy? We'd never get any sleep."

"Indeed not. I'm not even sure they make wool sheets. I prefer cotton myself."

Harry nodded as if he had an actual opinion on the subject. "What about in a nice burgundy and gold color?"

"Not a chance."

"Thought not. What about neutral colors, like brown or tan or something?"

"Acceptable. I'm partial to greens, as well."

"No surprise there. But it would depend on the green. I actually like dark green. And I don't mind snakes either."

"If you were ten, perhaps. Dark Green is fine."

As Snape started to say something else, Harry's scar flared with pain and he winced. Snape grimaced as well.

Fuck.

"I must go," Snape said, standing and rubbing his arm.

An unlikely flare of worry went through Harry. "Can I --"

"No. But if you would be so kind as to inform the Headmaster, it would save me some time and I would appreciate it."

"All right." Harry stood too.

"Go, now." Snape moved towards his desk.

Harry started for the door and then stopped, looking back at Snape. He was pulling a mask and robe out of the bottom drawer. As he looked at Harry, his expression was carefully closed.

"Be careful."

Looking startled by his words, Snape nodded. "I always am."

Harry hurried off to inform Dumbledore. As he moved through the mostly silent castle, he told himself that he wasn't really worried. Snape had done this many, many times without a problem. He'd be fine. The trouble was that it mattered now. Somehow Snape mattered now. And that didn't bear thinking about.

*****

Peter Pettigrew stood beside Voldemort's high-backed chair, looking smug in his place at the Dark Lord's side. As much as he might like to wipe that look off Pettigrew's face, Snape wasn't stupid and he approached them with caution, his face carefully blank of emotion.

"Did you brew the potion as my master asked?" Pettigrew stepped down from the dais and held out his hand.

Snape said nothing. He hated being called to brew something he knew would be used to hurt or kill people. This one at least, he had also been able to create an antidote for. As soon as he returned to Hogwarts, he'd see that Dumbledore distributed it. Without a word, he handed the bottles over to Pettigrew.

He stood still, waiting for Pettigrew to return them to the Dark Lord.

Merlin, how he hated Pettigrew. The reasons were many. Part of him would like nothing better than to kill the bastard for his crimes, not the least of which were the ones he'd perpetrated against Harry's parents.

That thought brought Snape up short. Since when did he even care about Harry, let alone his parents? In fact, he still hated James Potter. And while Lily wasn't nearly as awful as James had been, he hadn't liked her much either.

"You may approach us, Severus," the Dark Lord said as if he were the King of England.

That tone really grated on Snape's nerves. But he bit back his annoyance and kept his face carefully blank as he sank to his knees and lifted the hem of the Dark Lord's robe to his lips. He was smart enough to keep his eyes down and his mind carefully screened.

There was little in the world he hated as much as he hated this. But he knew he deserved it, knew that debasing himself was hardly atonement for the crimes *he'd* committed.

"When will you be ready to move on to the next phase of the courtship?" the Dark Lord's hissing voice demanded.

"I do not know, my Lord. It is up to Potter to accept or decline." Snape was horrified that the Courtship had gone on as long as it had. In truth, he would have thought that Potter would have grown bored with it by now. Instead, being the contrary boy that he was, he seemed more and more fascinated by the negotiations. Snape could only hope that he would not fool himself into believing in what they were doing. As much as he might not like Potter, he didn't want to see him hurt and if he believed in what was happening between them, he would be.

"Have you not discussed the matter with him?"

"Of course not, my Lord. It's forbidden for the Suitor to speak of such things with their Intended." And if the Dark Lord actually knew anything about the ritual he would know that already. Snape ground his teeth in frustration.

"Then you must guide him more subtly, Severus. I want this to move more quickly than it has up until now."

Except that it had already been moving quickly for a Courtship. "Yes, my Lord. The brat does not understand the significance of the Ritual."

"You should not refer to your Intended in such a tone." The Dark Lord's tone was angry, as if he were offended. "Potter must accept it."

Snape looked up. The Dark Lord sounded a bit too desperate for Snape's taste. "Do you actually want me to…" Snape couldn't say it.

The Dark Lord looked down at him and sneered. "Of course you will complete the ritual. How better to control and conquer him than to have him bound to one of my faithful servants."

Something in the way he said that sent a flash of fear thought Snape's whole body. "I understand, my Lord. But the Courtship itself does not have any controlling bonds. He would be free to decline to follow me, should he so choose."

"Do not think to contradict me on the courtship. I have been well informed of it. And I know the aspects of it," the Dark Lord snapped, fingering his wand.

But it was clear to Snape that while he might know about it in general, he didn't know the specifics. Snape bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord."

"You will see that he accepts it."

"We are not through the negotiations phase. Indeed, we've only begun it. You told me I had until the spring. It's not yet Yule."

What was the rush, Snape wondered, lifting his head again. There was no one among the inner circle whom he could ask without suspicion falling on him. He would stay a while after the gathering and see if there was any information to be had. Unfortunately, he could not stay long. He had class in the morning and had to see Dumbledore about the antidote.

"I wish to see this concluded more quickly, and Potter in my control. You will see that it happens as I wish it." He sat back in his chair.

Snape put his forehead to the floor. "Yes, my Lord. It shall be as you wish."

*****

"Are you enjoying your negotiations with Potter?" Coming from anyone else, Lucius Malfoy's words, in that perfectly pleasant tone, might have been mistaken for an opening to friendly conversation.

Snape, however, knew Lucius and knew better. He straightened up and glared at him. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"Not at all, my friend. I've heard that Potter spends quite a bit of time in your office these days."

That was a good thing, Snape supposed. He wondered briefly which of his students, beyond Draco of course, reported back to Lucius. "Unfortunately so. The brat does seem enamored of me. I find it most appalling."

"I'm sure you do. And, no doubt, it will be worse to be married to him." Malfoy shuddered.

"I am not looking forward to it." Snape made a point of looking disgusted by the thought. In truth, he could not think of it at all without horror.

"Poor Severus. The sacrifices we must make." Malfoy grinned, like a snake about to strike. "Though bedding him might not be so awful. As long as you gagged him first."

"And made sure the lights were out," Snape said, grimacing. His stomach tightened at the thought of Potter's lean body in his bed, and he promised himself that it was disgust. "Indeed. Be grateful it isn't you."

"Oh, I am. Thankfully, I'm already married."

"I do hope our Lord will arrange that my marriage is short-lived." Snape forced out an evil laugh.

"Of that, I have no doubt." Something in the way he said it made Snape look at him.

Since it had come up, Snape calculated he could ask. "Why is he pushing so hard to move things along? The ritual can't be rushed."

"I suspect our Lord does not care much for the ritual itself, only the results."

"You know as well as I do, were I to push, I would violate the ritual."

"Do you think Potter actually knows the ritual or anything at all about the wizarding world?" Lucius' scorn was evident in every word.

"I believe his mudblood friend has informed him of the particulars." It seemed harder to manufacture the contempt that needed to go with the words.

"Pity. You'll have to play it out."

Snape nodded. "I expect you are right."

"You do care about the ritual, don't you?" Lucius gave him and odd look.

And Snape was not sure how to interpret it. "As much as any wizard performing the rite would."

"Yes, of course." Malfoy's tone was superior.

It made Snape wonder what Malfoy was up to. "I must return to Hogwarts."

"Go then," Malfoy said.

With a slight bow, Snape turned and left the hall, relieved to be out of their dark presence.

*****

The Yule holiday was approaching and to Harry's continued dismay, Ron still was not speaking to him.

He and Hermione went to Hogsmeade to buy presents. Harry was going to stay at school and Hermione had decided to go home to see her parents.

"Well, well, well," Ron said coming out of a store with Neville and Dean as Harry and Hermione were passing by.

"Ron--" Hermione said, her tone car