The Master Plan

Chapter 38: The One Before the One Before the End

"I think I'll just go back to sleep," Harry announced in a small voice, and pulled the covers over his head.

Snape gave him a dirty look, but said to the Headmaster in what he hoped was a composed manner, "Please wait outside. I'll only take a moment to change."

It was a good thing Harry had the covers over his head at this point, because Snape surely would have thwacked him upside the head for the grin that in reality remained hidden. He did, however, manage to make enough of a gap to discreetly watch the man as he disrobed. A year. A whole year before he could have the man completely. Unfair.

He shut his eyes and feigned sleep as Severus turned toward the bed. "I know you're awake, you incommodious brat. If you feel exceptionally ill this morning, good, because you deserve it. If it's going to interfere with your studies, take the blue bottle that's second to the left on the bathroom counter, and use one spoonful to remedy your hangover. Just one, or--and trust me on this--you'll end up far more sober than you'd like, and you won't fall asleep for a week. I'm going to see what the blasted Headmaster wants. I'll expect you and your reptile out of my rooms by the time I return." Harry felt disappointment well up, and he made a soft mewling noise to indicate this. The man sighed crankily, but bent and quickly pressed his lips to the side of the scruffy head. Then he immediately tried to regain his grasp of the upper hand. "I'll see you in class, and not before. Make sure you're out, Mister Potter, or you will pay," he snarled threateningly.

Harry gave him a rakish grin. "Is that a promise?"

"Oh, shut up, Potter."

"Another spanking or something?"

"Or something," the man agreed. "You promised never to broach the subject again. Aside from that, it was more than two months ago. With your clearly insufficient brain, I'd have thought the whole incident would have been crowded out by now."

"Ah. Yeah, brandy and the kinkiest capital punishment ever dispensed at Hogwarts. Utterly forgettable."

"Hmph. It wasn't meant to be forgettable, just horrendously chastising," the Potions Master replied curtly.

"Well then, I must say it worked perfectly. I was thoroughly chastised." Harry hid the crossed fingers behind his back, and Severus gave him a suspicious look. "It was the ultimate, worst possible thing you could have done. I'll never get over it," he added, and at least the last bit was totally honest.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Are you going to leave as I asked, Potter, or am I going to have to get out my candles, draw some diabolic symbols on the floor and banish you to the nether regions of hell?"

"I'll leave, I'll leave," Harry replied. He snuggled back down in the bed. "After I've slept in, of course." He smiled smugly to himself as he heard the man mutter, beleaguered, as he left the rooms.

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Severus found that Albus had left a note. 'In my office,' was all it read. He took a deep breath and went directly there. "Toffees of goodwill," he told the gargoyle, uptight. He hated the new emergency password. When he reached the office, he found Dumbledore looking through a stack of papers. There were lines on the man's face that he could swear had not been there yesterday. It struck him to the quick, to think he had failed the man to this end. "Albus, I'm very sorry, but you really must listen to me," he began. "I swear to you that nothing sexual whatever took place in that bed. Er. Between Potter and myself, that is. And you may give me Veratiserum, and I promise I will STILL categorically deny deflowering that child. You must believe me."

To his shock, the Headmaster actually rolled his eyes. "Merlin's beard, Severus, stop being such a prude. I don't care if you did or you didn't; I have far more important things to worry about this morning." As harassed as he sounded, Dumbledore couldn't hide the twinkle in his eyes when he glanced at the man. "Really, Severus; do you ever think about anything besides sex?"

Severus gaped like a fish for a moment before drawing himself up and pulling himself together. "What do you require of me?" he put forth in an offended voice.

Good. He'd concentrate better offended than randy or regretful. He took a deep, deep breath. "They've called Lupin up."

"Bloody, buggering BLAST them," the Potions Master growled. The Headmaster sighed, but knew he could not force the other man to approve. "I don't like it, Albus. I don't like it one bit. I did tell you I had reservations--"

"Please don't question my decision," Albus responded gently, and Snape swallowed his protestations. "I understand your concerns. I have concerns of my own, and 'I' trust myself."

"I trust you, as well," Severus murmured immediately. "It is just...rare that I cannot anticipate what a certain action's consequences will be--no; it is rare that I must assent to taking actions whose consequences I am convinced will not be good. There is a plot afoot--you know this. My misgivings grow minute by minute."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Luckily for us all, I do not require your wholehearted blessing, but merely your cooperation." He winked at the man.

Severus groaned. "And what is necessary of me?" he inquired.

"As Lupin will be otherwise occupied, I shall need to divide his other duties between yourself and Kingsley. And, of course, since he cannot contact us in his current position, I would ask that you make an effort to keep an eye on him." The Headmaster took an extreme risk by patting the Potions Master on the shoulder, after having seen the downcast look on the man's face. "It does you credit that you worry about him. That you worry about either of them," he added quickly, heading the half-truth off at the pass.

Severus grunted. He had intended to tell the man he was worried about Harry, not Lupin, but as always the man got there ahead of him. "I did not like him..." he admitted, echoing Harry's earlier words, "when we were at school. But, however little I like a man, I should not choose to see him sell his soul."

"I know, Severus," Albus whispered comfortingly. "This is because you are a good man, albeit one who hides behind a rancorous mask. I'm afraid Remus's soul is his own to sell, and I admit that the thought sickens me, as well. All we can do is trust, Severus. In ourselves, in the greater good, and in one another."

Severus sighed deeply. "You make it sound like thoughts and emotions are important," he complained. "As though they are worth the same as an action taken, when we both know they are not."

Dumbledore smiled. "But they are, Severus. They are far more important, in fact, for without thought, and especially emotion, what use would action be? Action would have no worth; not even to ourselves." He smiled more widely at Severus's irritated scowl. "Take your boy, for instance. You say you took no 'action' regarding him last night, and yet you are sated in a way that I have never seen you."

Severus felt his face begin to go red again, and thought resentfully of Harry. Blushing was supposed to be his mannerism, not the spy's. A spy certainly could not afford to glow maroon whenever the subject of his affections arose. "I really would appreciate a change of topic."

The Headmaster shook his head. "With as much on your mind as the boy is, I should think the opportunity to discuss your feelings would be welcome."

"The notion of being desirous of 'discussing my feelings,' on this particular is ludicrous. I should be happier not to have any to discuss."

Dumbledore tisked. "I understand how long and hard you have clung to the notion that you are not worthy of love. If you cannot alter your opinion of the matter, then fine--but if this is the case, I beg you to ask who is really worthy of love. Sirius Black? You hated the man, and claimed once you would have been happy to watch him slowly devoured by ravenous, flesh-eating butterflies. But he was loved, was he not? By Harry, by Remus, by James?"

"I did NOT say flesh-eating butterflies, I did NOT! I said cockroaches, damn you. You always misquote me when you're trying to make a point. It isn't funny. And I don't want to talk about love, nor have anything to do with it, is that understood?" The man had his arms crossed and his teeth clenched, and looked downright infuriated.

"Insects, then," Albus granted with a wave of his hand. "The point I was trying to make is that you really ought to lower your guard a little, as far as Harry is concerned. I worry, that as he has been deprived of affection for so long, you will find it difficult to content him, unless you wholly give yourself over to the task. Loving is not so very complex, Severus. All you need do is yield to it."

"I refuse to go gentle into that good night," the Potions Master replied tersely.

Dumbledore sighed. "It is sad that you are more afraid of love than death," he remarked. "No, no; rage against it if you must. I only ask that you keep in mind that you will break the boy's heart by doing so."

Severus glared. "I do wish you would stop acting as though there is nothing wrong with my having an intimate relationship with Harry Potter. You are supposed to protect and discipline those under you. You are supposed to be the Headmaster of this school. For God's sake, why don't you act like it?"

"I am, I assure you," the man responded tranquilly.

"Albus. I am in grave danger already. You do not seem to realize that by encouraging this--this--whatever it is, you are raising the stakes so much higher."

Albus gave him a bland smile, looking out from behind those half-moon spectacles. "You need each other, Severus. And stop trying to convince me that you're primary objection to this is because of the danger to yourself."

"You're absolutely right!" Snape burst out. "I don't give a damn what happens to me! But if you think that for one moment I am going to allow my own libido to endanger that boy--"

"Severus, Severus, Severus, calm down," the Headmaster ordered, waving his hands placatingly. "See here; I cannot begin to explain to you why this is what is best for you, since you have absolutely no interest in whether or not it actually is what's best for you, but I might just be able to outline why this is what is best for Harry." He settled himself more comfortably in his chair and looked pensive for a few moments.

"All right," Dumbledore assented. "Just a few points to keep in mind before you go. Harry is an adolescent boy with raging hormones, a world to save and what amounts to a great, glaring bulls-eye painted on his chest.

"To address your concerns: you are, indeed, somewhat older than Mister Potter. You are not a child--unlike Harry's classmates and other potential beaus. Even the shrewdest of them would not fully understand what they might be getting themselves into by dating Harry Potter.

"You are a Death Eater and a spy, and one of only two that I have sanctioned. We know what side you are on. Can you say the same for Zabini? Can you say any of the other boys Harry's age might not, in their youthful ambition and naïveté, be seduced to join Voldemort's ranks? Harry is gullible, Severus. Boys his age often are. How is he to know a potential Death Eater from a potential ally?

"Additionally, being a Death Eater and a spy certainly gives you an inside perspective as to how much danger the boy is in, at any given time. You would be in the unique position of having advance knowledge of plots against Mister Potter's person, and also of being able to persuade the often stubborn boy of the correct course of action in response. It is far easier to acquiesce with a lover's wishes than an enemy's. But even were you no longer a Death Eater, and no longer a spy, surely your service as such would have given you the opportunity to use the skills needed to keep yourself and your loved ones alive in such dark and troubled times as we are now experiencing. Can it be that you'd forgotten that is what drew Harry to you in the first place? You have said yourself that nothing could induce you to betray him. You are not at all his weakness, but his strength. It is a strength he will need desperately as the situation intensifies.

"And last, but to Mister Potter's poor heart, doubtlessly not least, you are already a target of Voldemort. There is nothing Harry can do to make you more so, if Voldemort ever becomes aware of what you have already done. Harry would not survive the guilt, should some complete innocent he involved himself with become a casualty of the crossfire. He has enough guilt, Severus. You are the only one in a position to alleviate it. You are the only one who understands. Do you understand?"

Severus understood that he was asking more than whether he was on familiar terms with guilt. "I don't know, Albus, I really don't," he sighed. "It is very easy for you to hand me honeyed arguments, but I have in my heart my own judgment of right and wrong. I still believe that Harry would be better off...well, perhaps not without me completely; I do like to think I perform some small amount of service, but...waiting until he is older, at least. He has so little innocence left, Albus. I cannot accept taking the rest myself." He hung his head. "I...am not capable of pushing the boy away. He is too much within my walls of resistance already. But I will not feed him sugared lies. I will not promise him happiness, only to see it torn from him. And I refuse to open his soul by bearing my own, and letting Voldemort's filth taint his, as well."

Albus shook his head sadly. "Your soul is not corrupted, Severus. You have sacrificed so much, given and striven so readily. You have done everything in your power to redeem yourself, to relinquish more than you have taken. You are clean, my dear boy. Forgive yourself, so you may give Harry what he needs."

Snape looked away. "What will we do on Thursday?" he asked, changing the subject.

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When Snape retired to his chambers that night, he found Harry waiting there. He had a difficult time vacillating between gratification and annoyance. "I told you to leave," he growled.

"But I DID leave," Harry protested. "I just came back, is all, after classes were over. Anyway, I thought you might have something you wanted to tell me."

"I do NOT have anything whatever to say to you. And I recall specifically telling you what would happen if you were not gone when I returned." He gave the boy his patented glare-of-carnage.

"Actually, you didn't go into specifics. Erm. You did decide against a spanking, didn't you? Only I kind of fell of my broom at Quidditch practice, and had a harder landing than I would have liked so...please don't spank me." He tried not to look too hopeful. And prayed reverse psychology had even a slim chance on Severus Snape. "Because that would be really awful, if you spanked me now. So, please don't do that. Anything but that."

Snape rolled his eyes. "In other words, 'Please don't throw me in the briar patch, Brer Fox, anything but the briar patch.' Very clever, Mister Potter. You do realize that I have more important issues on my mind than your rampant teenage hormones?"

"That's why I'm here, then; to take your mind off them." Severus was surprised when Harry handed him a glass of scotch that had been ready and waiting, and gestured for him to sit down. He did, and was further taken aback when Harry went round behind him and clever young hands were applied to releasing the tension in his neck and shoulders. "You're awfully uptight, Sev," the boy commented, making him grit his teeth.

"Do NOT call me that, you presumptuous wretch," he growled, though the edge was taken off by the warming scotch and dexterous fingers.

"We DID sleep together, you know. Do you still want to retain that level of distance? What would you prefer me to call you? Professor? Sir? Master?" His voice dropped lower and huskier, word by word, and he breathed the last one in the man's ear. "You are, after all, the Potions Master." Harry went around the chair again and with a slinky move, crawled into the man's lap. "Do you want the respect you've earned?" he asked, still using what Severus could only call a bedroom voice.

"Stop that," he ordered. He wasn't sure whether to be appalled or entertained. "You must be spoiled beyond repair, to think you can get away with that sort of talk."

Harry unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on the man's robes. "I'm not going to get away with it, huh? And just how do you propose to stop me?"

Severus could think of quite a few ways of doing so, in actuality, from tossing him out on his arse to simply saying he didn't find the boy attractive enough, to any number of spells and incantations. But he felt it would be better for Harry to change his own mind, rather than having to hurt the boy or his feelings. "Perhaps I won't stop you," he told Harry in a voice so low as to reach beyond human sound and touch qualities of vibration. He was pleased to see the boy shudder. "Perhaps I'll merely punish you. Perhaps I'll tie you to my bed and whip you raw and then, when you're exhausted and bleeding, I'll take you and pound you into the mattress, and then--" he thought he was really doing well when Harry shuddered again, harder this time, and assumed the boy had to be frightened, overwhelmed, but; this was Potter, the brave little brat.

"Wow," he breathed, looking up at Severus through slightly steamed-up glasses. Then he smiled brilliantly. "Would you really tie me to your bed?"

"Did you hear a word I said after that?"

"I think I got stuck on the tied-to-the-bed bit, but I did perk back up when you mentioned pounding me through the mattress," Harry offered unabashedly.

Severus shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are utterly hopeless," he remarked in a defeated voice.

"And I'm not going anywhere," Harry added happily.

Severus managed a smile and kissed the boy gently on the lips. Several kisses later he asked, "How was your day?" It was odd, that. It seemed so cliché, but it happened so naturally--he really was curious about Harry's activities.

The boy looked sad. "Everyone knows about Draco, now. Half the Slytherins believe I had something to do with it, but Blaise and Jack told them off. I mean; REALLY told them off. I think Draco was something of a leader in the house, a trendsetter and all that. People looked up to him, listened to him. They seem to be kind of lost without him." Severus felt a pang of guilt. His house. They would need him, now. Especially the innocent ones, however few there were. "And it seems like Blaise, of all people, is stepping in to fill his shoes--with Jack's support," Harry went on. "Pansy resisted pretty well for a while; think she wanted the post for herself, but the rest of them are listening to Blaise, so even she caved eventually. I think they see him as 'The Boy Who Conquered The Boy Who Lived,' and they really admire that. I don't get why he stood up for me, though. Why are all Slytherins so fucking complicated? He tells me off in front of the whole school one day, and then he stands up for me in front of the whole school the next. I just don't understand him. And what did he say to you yesterday?"

"Nothing," Severus responded immediately. He had never told Harry about Blaise's earlier betrayal, and didn't think he ever would. It would only hurt Harry. And as for Blaise...it was very odd, when the boy had approached him, tears glistening in his eyes, and muttered, 'I guess the best men won.' He didn't need the boy hanging some noble sacrifice over his head. "I am entirely sick of hearing about Blaise Zabini," he announced suddenly. "And if you plan on sharing my bed, you will oblige me by not discussing ex-partners. Is that understood?" He gripped Harry's chin roughly, and stared piercingly into those green pools of light.

"Er. Absolutely," Harry said. He was mesmerized, and not a little turned on. Firm Severus, jealous Severus, demanding Severus--all nearly too sexy to deal with. "I'm sorry. If I'd known you were jealous--"

"I am most certainly NOT!"

"Oh, yes you are. It's very cute."

"It is NOT!"

"Oh, do shut up, Sev."

Severus actually looked like he might smile for a moment, before leaning over and kissing the boy again. Harry kissed back warmly, wrapping his arms around the man. "Let's go to bed," the Potions Master said. "But once again, I must reiterate my refusal to participate in sexual activities this early in the relationship."

"All right," Harry agreed unexpectedly. He got up from the man's lap, but then immediately demanded to be carried to the bedroom.

"Sick, child, very sick," Severus chided, although he did as asked, lifting the boy gently, and trying to ignore his body's response to Harry wrapping his legs around the man's waist. "Not to mention you've probably tripled the chances of throwing my back out."

"Madam Pomfrey can fix that," Harry responded dismissively. He leaned his head on the man's shoulder. "And it makes me feel safe. I love knowing you're strong enough to carry me. To protect me. I love you, Severus."

"I do wish you'd stop saying that," Snape responded plaintively.

"It's only natural," Harry protested.

"It's only completely terrifying," Severus shot back.

Harry chuckled a little. "Someday you'll say it back."

"I shouldn't hold my breath, Mister Potter."

"I could live without air, Severus. I could live without food or drink if I had to. The only thing I could never live without is you."

Severus was silent a long time, setting the boy on the bed, changing, crawling in beside him, wrapping him in his arms. "Overly sentimental prat," he whispered. Harry just grinned and hummed in agreement, and for the second night in a row they fell asleep in one another's arms.