Where the Demon Resides I: From the Snake's Pit

The platform at 9 and 3/4 was crowded to the extreme when Severus and Harry arrived there. Their appearance went unnoticed and they separated at once, Severus heading for the teacher's car, Harry dragging his trunk and Hedwig onto the train. After passing several full cars, he found what he was looking for.

Hermione had her back to him and was struggling to push her bag into the overhead carrier. Crookshanks noticed him at once and purred contentedly, hopping off the seat and weaving through his legs. Harry bent to pet the animal, which arched into his touch. He stood then, and wrapped his arms around Hermione from behind, causing her to squeak and drop her bag.

"Harry!" she cried, turning in his arms and hugging him tightly. "Oh, Harry, we were so worried about you!"

"So I gathered," Harry cracked, drawing away briefly. Hermione had added a few inches to her height since he last saw her and she tanned a dark gold colour from her summer in Nice. Her hair was shorter than he'd ever seen it, hanging to her shoulders and it was nearly bleached blonde from the sun. She looked a lot older, too, her body thinner and curvier than ever, her face softer and rounder. "You look amazing."

Harry was endeared when she blushed prettily and waved away his comment. She was drinking him in with her eyes, searching for clues as to his summer whereabouts. "You look really pale," Hermione hinted.

"I didn't spend much time outside," Harry admitted. "And that's all you're getting out of me."

Hermione seemed to accept this and smiled brilliantly, pulling him into another hug. Over her shoulder, she saw Ron and Ginny approach and then suddenly they were all involved in a group hug. "Harry!" Ginny squealed, squeezing almost to tight for comfort and pecked him on the cheek.

"Ginny, thanks," Harry said cheerfully, kissing her on the cheek as well. "How was the Burrow?" Harry asked quickly, hoping to divert their attention away from his summer whereabouts. Hermione eyed him suspiciously, but let it pass.

"Not the same without you," Ginny said glumly. Harry noticed that she had gained some weight over the summer, hinting that the food had been as good as ever. Not that the food at Snape Manor wasn't good. Severus had a very fine staff of cooks. But there was something about Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

"Fred and George came by for a visit the last two weeks and brought all their new products with them," Ron said with a grin. "Mom threw a fit! There were exploding soaps, that went off whenever they got wet, and mini-portkey candies that transport you five feet in the air and let you drop when you swallow them."

"It was hilarious!" Ginny seconded.

"It was not funny. Someone could have been hurt," Hermione insisted over the laughter. But Harry knew she had found it amusing. He felt a pang of sorrow, knowing that he had missed out on all the special memories that Ron and Hermione had created over the summer. He wondered what other jokes he hadn't heard and what emotions he hadn't experience with them and he suddenly didn't want to know.

It wasn't that he regretted the way his summer had been spent. He had enjoyed nearly every moment spent with Severus, Meredith and Lily. And meeting Serenity had been so wonderful and her touch so catharticÂ…but he had to wonder what was more important--the people who had accepted him from the beginning, or the man who he had grown to care for over the summer. And this school year, when he would have to choose between spending time with Ron and Hermione, or lying to them so he could sneak off to see Severus, what would he do?

"Must have been great. I'm sorry I had to miss it," Harry told them.

"S'okay, Harry," Ron said amicably, "After all, your safety is more important than Fred 'n George."

Harry gave him a lopsided grin, "Glad to know you think so." The train had begun to move now, and they were starting along the familiar path of green countryside. The food cart passed by and Harry bought everyone lots of candy that would last them well into the first weeks of school. Lavender, Parvati and Padma came by for a short while, all casting covert glances in Ron's direction and giggling madly. Harry could understand why. He wasn't sure whether he was gay or not, considering he still found the female form pleasing to look at. Yet, he could appreciate Ron's looks. He had grown even taller over the summer--something Harry hadn't thought possible. His eyes were a stunning blue colour that contrasted nicely to his red hair and freckles. And then there was his body. It was obvious that he had been working out over the summer in hopes of getting a spot on the Quidditch team. His arms had nicely defined muscles and his tight shirt gave a hit at the washboard stomach that lay beneath.

After the girl patrol had left, Neville stopped in. "Hey, guys!" he said cheerfully. "I had an awesome summer. My Grandmum let me stay with my cousin, in America!" He rambled on for nearly ten minutes about all the strange American customs; both Muggle and Wizard, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry listening patiently and trying to seem interested.

Neville was in the middle of telling them about American curse words when the car door slid open to reveal Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy spotted Neville and pasted a sneer across his features. "Lost your dear froggy again, Longbottom? Better be more carefulÂ…those animals are so fragile. One little misstep and splat! No more Trevor."

"He's a toad," Neville protested weakly, cradling Trevor in his hands, "And if you so much as think of--"

"You'll what? Bore me to death? Let's face it, Neville, you're more Muggle than Granger is. And that's saying something." Draco's eyes lit up a bit when he saw the blush creep into Neville's face.

"Go away, Malfoy. You don't want to face all five of us," Harry warned. Draco pinned him with an intense gaze that reminded Harry of Severus. They stared each other down for a long, tense moment and Harry's hand drifted towards his wand in preparation. Still, something in Malfoy's eyes told him he had nothing to worry about. There was no malice, no threat in the silvery depthsÂ…in fact, there was something close to fear and desperation, if one could look past the cool, calculating shimmer.

"Goyle, Crabbe, wait for me in our car," Malfoy instructed, not taking his eyes off Harry. "I'll be along shortly." Neither boy argued, they simply backed out, shutting the door behind them.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron demanded suddenly. "Cause if you're looking for a fight, it wasn't smart to send off your bodyguards."

"I know something you don't know," Malfoy said plainly, addressing Harry.

Harry couldn't help letting out a short burst of laughter. It just sounded so juvenile. "Okay, what do you know, then?"

Malfoy smiled and Harry suddenly realised just how beautiful the other boy was, how enticing he could be. "I know where you were this summer and that isn't a good thing."

Harry stiffened because Malfoy was right, if he knew where Harry had been, that was a very bad thing. That meant that Voldemort knew that Severus had been hiding Harry and knew that Severus was a double agent. But there was no possible way that Malfoy could know. "I don't believe you," he said.

"Really," Draco smiled again, the teasing quality in his tone matching his eyes, still there lingered fear. He crossed the distance between them and placed a slender hand on each of Harry's arms, drawing them close to one another. Ron tensed, ready to curse Draco, were he to do Harry any harm, but Harry still him with a jerk of his head.

Draco leaned forward and placed his lips to Harry's ear, tickling the skin lightly and Harry shivered, wondering what in the hell was going on, but forcing himself to remain still and calm. "He's no longer safe," Draco purred, barely loud enough for Harry to hear, so he knew that there was no risk that the others had overheard.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said stiffly, pushing away.

"Suit yourself," Draco said, arching one silver eyebrow. "But I'm telling you this only to help you. They know, the Death Eaters, where you were over the summer. If you had any brains at all, you would figure out how they knewÂ…but I forgot, you're a Gryffindor. Of course you haven't any brains." At that, Draco spun on his heel and left the room.

"How could Malfoy know, Harry," Hermione asked softly a worried frown marring her pretty face. "You have to tell Dumbledore."

"Don't worry, I will. Besides, I have the feeling that Malfoy's all talk," Harry told her, hoping she wouldn't disagree.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, in the silence that followed. "Dumbledore wouldn't tell us. He just kept saying that you were safe and we had nothing to worry aboutÂ…blah, blah, blahÂ…"

Harry laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry assured them.

"Oh, now you have us intrigued! No fair," Hermione protested, "Now you have to tell us!"

"Not here and not now. It isn't safe. I might have to go back next summer," Harry said. "I promise you'll be the first to know as soon as I can say."

The thought of going back next summer brought the thought of Christmas break, as well. And with that thought, brought the question of whether or not he was still welcome at Snape Manor. His face fell, as he contemplated his actions.

It had been so damn foolish of him to refuse Severus' apology. At the time, it had felt good, he had felt powerful--he, Harry Potter, had held control over something Severus Snape wanted. He had the ability to grant or deny Snape what he asked for. And after all the trouble Severus had given him, and since Severus had been behaving so moronically, Harry had enjoyed denying it a great deal.

Now, though, he could smack himself. Because honestly, what had Severus done? A few harsh words said--said why? Harry was still puzzling over that. Why had Severus been so angry? At first Harry had thought it jealousy that had brought about the sudden change in Severus' attitude, but his cool dismissal was entirely unexpected. The reappearance of the old, familiar Snape was not too big of a surpriseÂ…Harry had been waiting for that all summer long. But his behaviour the next morningÂ…Severus never apologised. Never had the words "sorry" or "please" crossed his lips. Until the morning before. What had it all meant?

It was a simple kissÂ…just a kissÂ…

Yet even as Harry thought that, he was forced to wonder; was it just a kiss? He remembered Serenity's touch--the softness of her lips against his and her mouth, hot and demanding--it was a good kiss. And when she had comforted him, she had been so gentle. Her fingers in his hair felt so nice. And her body had been so utterly feminine--all curves and soft flesh and it felt so right being held in her embrace. Why and how had things become so complicated?

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked, noting the shadow that had fallen over his face.

Harry blinked up at her in surprise, then looked hastily at his trunk, opening the lid and pulling out his school robes. "Nothing, Gin," he assured, pasting a smile over his face. "Guys, I think I'm going to go change," he added, holding up his robe. A letter fell to the floor and he picked up with a frown.

Unfolding it, recognition spread over his features and he read it with a small smile, letting out a little laugh when it was finished. Then he refolded it, set it inside his trunk and stepped out of the cart. "What was that all about?" Ron demanded. "Honestly, he's acting like an entirely different person!"

"Guys," Ginny caught their attention, lifted the lid of his trunk and took the letter, her curiosity getting the better of her. She snatched it up and saw the unfamiliar handwriting across the top.

"Ginny, maybe we shouldn't," Hermione said softly, chewing on her bottom lip, but hoping deep down that Ginny would anyway.

And her wish was granted. Ginny opened the letter and read out loud for the others to hear. "Dearest Harry, I know our time together this summer was brief. I feel so foolish now, for putting our meeting off. I know you have so many questions that you would like answered and I know you wish I could solve our problem. I promise you that I am doing everything I can think of--eventually we'll work it out. Soon we will have a chance to further explore our relationship. In the meantime, do search out my dear brother and forgive him. He can't help being a prickÂ…its his nature. And if he gives you any trouble, tickle him--he hates that! I'll be seeing you. Love always, SS."

"SS?" Hermione puzzled.

"Love?" Ginny bit out.

"This is wrong, Gin, put it away," Ron protested, snatching the letter away at her inaction and putting it back where Harry had. "He's our friend, we shouldnÂ’t betray his trust like that."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Aren't you at all curious as to where he's been all summer. Why can't we know? We're supposed to be his friends."

"Which is why we'll give him all the time he needs," Ron reasoned. "Its what he deserves."

---

Harry found Severus in the teacher's cars, towards the front of the trains. There weren't many professors on, considering most of them were already at Hogwarts, so Severus had an entire car to himself. He was still dressed casually in a loose blouse and trousers, his uniform robe slung over his shoulders and left undone. He was sprawled over the seat, his legs stretched out over the length and reclining slightly, reading The Daily Prophet. He looked up at Harry's intrusion, but said nothing, even when Harry sat down on the opposite bench.

Suddenly, Harry didn't know if this were such a good idea. While he may have had a chance to repair things at the Manor, he had no idea if the same could be said now that they were on their way back to Hogwarts. He swallowed hard at the sudden dryness he felt in his throat. Why was it so damn confusing? Why couldn't all the answers be written out somewhere? As if he didn't have enough trouble in his life with Voldemort and Draco Malfoy, now he had to worry about love.

Severus was eyeing him coolly over the paper, his gaze steady. But he still didn't speak, waiting for Harry to make the first move. And boy, did Harry want to make a move. Severus looked entirely delicious there, reserved and detached, like a work of art, the most unattainable thing on the earth. And that made Harry want to attain it, want to turn that indifference into passion, perfection into sexily rumpled.

Without warning, Harry was swept with a rush of anger. Anger at himself for ignoring Snape's apology. Anger at Serenity for not only putting him in this situation, but for making him feel things towards her that he didn’t want to feel. And anger at Severus for being so damned desirable and loving and wonderful one minute and mean and hateful the next. Angry that they had to pretend to be something they weren't now that they were returning to school. Harry wanted to get up in front of the Great Hall and shout that he had seen beneath Severus' cool façade…that he knew the man like no one else.

Still eyeing him speculatively, Severus lowered his paper, setting it aside and straightening out. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, imitating Harry's own position so that their faces were mere inches apart in the narrow car. There was something in Severus' eyes; some intense emotion that Harry was sure matched the one in his own eyes.

It was hard for Harry to breathe, but that was all right, because Severus was doing it for him. He could feel the warm breath over his face, stirring his hair. He let his eyes fall close, trying to block out what he saw from Severus. Because he couldnÂ’t believe it was real--couldn't believe that Severus could love him just as much as he loved Severus. Couldn't believe that the feelings were so intense for Severus that it hurt, just as it did for Harry. Couldn't believe that what he saw in Severus' eyes were truly Severus' feelings, and not something that Harry had projected upon the older man, in desperation.

And he blocked it out, because he was afraid it was real. Afraid that Severus really did feel those things. Because what then? Could they really have a romantic relationship? They were too different, as he had told Serenity. Teacher and student, a massive age difference. Difference in taste and opinion, in likes and dislikes. Hell, Severus wasn't even nice 95% of the time!

He wanted to scream until his throat was raw. He wanted to cry until his eyes were redder than Voldemort's. He wanted to close that last bit of distance between Severus and himself, both physical and mental and press their lips together and merge their souls. He could feel his fingers digging into the back of his neck in their effort not to grab Severus. He could feel two lone tears seep from the corners of his eyes.

"What is it, Harry?" What once Severus would have snapped came out so soft, and confused and desperate. His voice conveyed all that he felt at that moment, his need to discover what it was that was causing Harry this pain and take it away. There was a gentleness that he had never before felt in his entire life, much less expressed. His hands reached out for Harry, ready to wipe away the tears, but stilled and he drew them back to himself. He had no idea what was acceptable and what boundaries he must not overstep.

His tone tore a sob from Harry, who wanted nothing more than to lunge forward, to be comforted by Severus as he had been by Serenity. At last, his desire won out and he couldn't control his body. The next thing either of them knew was the closest thing to perfection they had ever before felt. Severus was pushed back into the seat from the force of Harry's body, which had wound its way around Severus. Harry was clinging to the other man, arms around his neck, face buried in Severus' chest. He wasn't crying anymore, just shaking intensely. His hands slid from their perch to grip Severus' shirt tightly, twisting it mercilessly as he convulsed.

Severus stiffened awkwardly, having never held someone like this before and not quite sure how to go about it. Slowly, his arms came to rest around Harry and he let his hand run in soothing lines up and down Harry's spine. The shaking stilled somewhat and Severus noticed just how nice Harry's body felt pressed against his own. He hesitantly lowered his head to rest on top of Harry's and marvelled at the softness of the hair against his skin, unconsciously drawing Harry closer to him.

It was so wrong; Severus knew, to be enjoying this, hell, to even be doing this. Still, he would take what little pleasure he could have, what little solace he could find. What little relief from the constant pain that was caring for Harry Potter. "I'm sorry," Harry bit out, his voice muffled against Severus' chest.

"So am I," Severus replied, placing his lips against Harry's hair, knowing that Harry wouldn't realise what he was doing, but taking pleasure in the gesture no less. It was still light outside, which meant they had several more hours until they reached their destination. He shifted, reclining further and Harry followed his movement. Severus drew him closer still and let his eyes drift shut. You shouldn't be doing this, said an insistent little voice in Severus' head. But for once, he ignored it.

Could have been minutes, could have been hours later that Severus was stirred from sleep by a strange feeling on his sides. Fingers were dancing over his ribs and stomach and brushing his sides, causing the muscles to quiver helplessly. Someone was tickling him. He caught Harry's hands with his own and Harry looked up at him with a playful smile. Severus scowled in response, hoping that Harry realised it was not okay to do that. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Tickling you. Serenity said I could," Harry stated matter-of-factly. Severus sat up, forcing Harry off him and onto the seat beside.

"Yes, well despite her opinion to the contrary, Serenity is not really in the position to give you such permission," Severus said sharply. Harry's face fell and Severus suppressed the urge to sigh. Must the boy really be reassured every goddamn minute? He had just let Harry sleep on top of him! Maybe a little humour would help. "Try it again and I'll break your arms," he warned, trying to sound playful.

Obviously it worked, because Harry cracked a small smile in response. "Won't your friends be missing you?"

"Trying to get rid of me?" Harry asked, though he was only half-kidding.

"Oh, never," Severus assured him, dryly, "I simply know how annoyingly curious your friends can be. We're lucky they didn't find us as we were only moments ago." Severus pinned a reluctant Harry with a glare. "I don't think it would be wise for them to find you here."

"You just have to be reasonable, don't you?" Harry scowled.

Severus cracked his first smile sinceÂ…well, a long time and said, "You say that like itÂ’s a bad thing. Why don't you come to my quarters tomorrow night after dinner? I'm sure you could sneak away from Miss Granger and Mister Weasley for a few moments."

Harry shook his head. "No, I have to speak with you this evening. It's important. I have to talk to you and then we have to speak with Dumbledore," Harry told him.

"What's this about?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowing.

"MalfoyÂ…I don'tÂ…I know he isn't trustworthyÂ…but he said that the Death Eaters knew where I had been hiding. He said if I was smart, I'd figure out how they knew. But I can't. The only ones who knew were your mother and sister, and Dumbledore."

"We can discuss it with the Headmaster in the morning. Mister Malfoy is most untrustworthy, but if there is even a slight change he knows that you stayed at Snape Manor, then so does Voldemort." Severus looked very serious; his posture so perfect it hurt Harry to look at. "Go on back to your friends, Harry, before they get too worried. We'll talk after dinner."

Harry nodded and headed for the door, but turned back to face Severus. "You won'tÂ…I mean. You're not going toÂ…" He didn't know how to phrase his question without sounding like a complete moron, but he imagined he had completed that task already.

"Nothing's changed," Severus said plainly, and that was all Harry needed to hear.

---

"Harry James Potter, where have you been?" Hermione demanded, when he returned to their car. Her hands were on her hips and she was tapping her foot. She and the others had changed into their robes and Hermione looked very formidable with her shining Prefect badge. "We have been up and down the hall forever looking in every car for you! We were afraid that Malfoy had done something awful!"

"Besides simply exist," Ron clarified and shrank back when Hermione glared at him.

"This is not funny! Honestly. You had me terribly worried."

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said, "There was something I had to take care of. I didn't realise it would take so long." He realised now how foolish he had been. After all, he had left only to change his robe as far as they were concerned. And returned several hours later, after dark, as the train was approaching the final destination. "I'm sorry."

Something like guilt flashed through Hermione's eyes and she averted her gaze, as did Ron and Ginny. Puzzled, wondering what they had to be guilty about when he had been the one to lie, Harry shrugged and tossed his set of Muggle clothes in his trunk, not noticing the new placement of Serenity's letter.

---

There was whispering when they entered the great hall, a disturbance of some sort and Harry saw the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and figured that was what was causing the commotion. He was good-looking--not Gilderoy Lockhart, but still handsome and very young. The girls were terribly excited.

Harry looked at the opposite end of teacher's table to gauge Severus' reaction. But Severus wasn't looking at the new DADA teacher. In fact, he was staring, startled, in the opposite direction. Harry followed his gaze past Vector, Flitwick and Hooch to where Professor Trelawney would normally sit. Only Serenity sat there instead, beaming in her brother's direction. Harry gasped and Ron and Hermione finally saw what he did.

"It's about time they finally replaced Trelawney," Hermione said.

Serenity suddenly looked their way and fixed Harry with a huge grin. "Wow!" Ron said, "She's really hot! Not that I'd notice such things," he added hastily at Hermione and Ginny.

Dumbledore shushed them all and Professor McGonagall led in the first years, all anxious faced and whispering nervously. After the sorting, during which Gryffindor gained eighteen new students and Severus was offered twenty-two Slytherin brats, Dumbledore stood again.

"Now, before we eat, there are a few introductions to be made. Firstly, I'd like you all to meet Professor Scott Welling. He comes from teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at the New Hampshire School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He has taught there several years and is here in an exchange program, since we were in need of an instructor."

Harry could mentally hear Severus tack on "Again." There was a brief applause before Dumbledore continued, "And Madame Serenity Renardier, replacing Professor Trelawney this year. Madame Renardier comes to us from Beauxbatons, where she was the Master of Divination. Let's welcome her!" More applause, though Harry noticed Severus pointedly refrained. There were a few catcalls, causing McGonagall to frown at the behaviour. Serenity merely smiled at the Slytherin boys who had done it and blew them a kiss.

"Hmmph," Hermione snorted, "She's probably no better than Trelawney"

"No," Harry said firmly, "She's a Master of Divination, that takes real talent. Very few people have ever earned that title."

Ron groaned. "Please don't tell me you're turning into a book worm, too. I swear to god, if you quote 'Hogwarts, a History,' I'll kick your ass!"

Harry smiled and Hermione gave Ron a narrow look. "Of course," Harry said, for Hermione's benefit, "I'll have to wait til I have her class before passing judgement."

"Well, I may give it a try. I guess it couldn't possibly be worse than Trelawney But I doubt that I'll stay past the first class."

"Wow Hermione, that's so good of you," Ron said sarcastically. "I for one can't wait for her class."

"Yeah, so you can drool all over the place," Hermione muttered. Harry hid his smile behind his hand and looked back up at the Head Table. The food had arrived and everyone was eating and chatting, including Serenity, who was charming those around her. Severus was not touching his food, but was staring at his sister, not really furious, but close.

Despite himself, Harry felt his grin grow wider. He couldn't wait until after dinner. The ensuing battle between siblings was sure to be entertainingÂ…and this time he couldn't be blamed for anything. Serenity caught her brother staring again and waved saucily. Harry could see Severus' lips twitch, as if he were having difficulty restraining himself.

Dinner was enjoyable for Harry, using the time to catch up with all the Gryffindors. Seamus entertained everyone dirty jokes. Neville regaled them with tales of the beautiful American women. Ron and Hermione were a nice source of entertainment, bickering constantly and oblivious to their feelings.

"Harry, when are you going to have tryouts for the Quidditch team?" Dean asked excitedly.

Harry sighed, not certain himself. The year before they had added a new keeper, Sarah Daily. But at the end of the year, they lost Fred, George, Katie and Angelina. Therefore, Harry had less than two months to ready a new team for competition. "As soon as I talk to Madame Hooch. Probably at the beginning of next week."

Several people from the second year up perked up at the mention of tryouts and there was a sudden rush of chatter. "Yeah, but don't bother to tryout unless you have the time to devote to practice and some experience in the sport. It's going to be pretty intense the first few weeks."

"Yeah, yeah. We're going to kick some Slytherin ass this year!" Ron said, just loud enough for the other house to hear earning cheers from his housemates and sneers from the Slytherins.

The first years had already been led back to the dormitory and some of the older students were starting to head back too, while others were staying in the great hall to talk with their friends from other houses. Severus had left shortly after dinner had begun and Serenity had left only a few minutes ago, no doubt following her brother. "Want to go back to the common room, Harry?" Ron suggested.

Now for the lies, what Harry had been dreading for some time now. He bit his lip and hoped that when his friends learned the truth they would forgive him. "You two go ahead. I have to stay behind and speak with Dumbledore. I'll be up in a while. Don't wait on me."

Hermione looked hesitant to leave him, but Ron took to the idea well enough and urged her towards the Gryffindor tower. Harry gave them one last fleeting glance and saw them round a corner before going in the opposite direction. A few Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were going in the same direction as him and giving him odd looks, but he tried his best to remain inconspicuous. Eventually, the Slytherins trickled off down a set of damp stairs and the Hufflepuffs down a long, narrow hallway.

Severus' quarters were near his office and classroom, Harry knew, but no more than that. Not that it mattered, for as he drew near to the Potions classroom, he heard slightly raised voices that he followed til he reached an unmarked wooden door. With a mirthful smile, Harry knocked loudly three times upon the door and it opened right away.

"Harry, come in," Serenity cooed, wearing a smile similar to his own.

"Yes, Harry," Severus said dryly, gesturing for Harry to enter. "Come on in."

"Have I interrupted something?" Harry asked.

Severus slammed the door shut behind him and said, "You're a brat, Potter."

Serenity ignored her brother and said, "No, you've interrupted nothingÂ…nothing important, anyway. Severus has just been going on about useless brabble for several minutes." Severus pursed his lips angrily but said nothing.

"Are you two always like this?" Harry asked, incredulous. "I got the impression from your mother that you two got along rather well. But all I've seen is you fencing and screamingÂ…and glaring."

"Well, Harry, you just have to realise that Severus is the most difficult person to get along with in. This. World."

"Yes, and Serenity is the most ridiculous, unreliable woman in this world and she delights in toying with others," Severus explained. Serenity nodded her agreement to his assessment.

"And I love him dearly," Serenity said gently, winding her arms around her brother's waist and resting her cheek against his.

"If you think that sucking up to me is going to make me forget--" Severus was cut off when Serenity briefly pressed her lips to his.

It was nothing more than a sisterly peck, but the touch got to Harry more than he had expected. He didn't know what he felt towards Serenity, but he did know how he felt about Severus and he didn't like them kissing the slightest bit. He took an involuntary step forward before he could restrain himself, but it was enough to draw the attention of the Snapes. They both looked at him, cheeks still touching, identical expressions of indulgent humour on their faces. Their eyes were the only things different. Serenity's were nothing more than playfully challenging, "If you want him, come and get him." Severus' were the mysterious ones, the only clear emotion confusion.

"Speaking of forgetfulness," Harry began. "Did you forget to mention you had a position on the staff, here?"

Serenity merely shrugged and Severus used his arm around her back to guide her to the couch. He gestured for Harry to sit as well. "And what's up with Madame Renardier? I was under the impression that your last name was Snape."

"Oh, about that," Serenity murmured. "I generally go by Snape, but Professor Dumbledore thought it best that the children not know Severus and I were related, for the sake of keeping up Severus' charade as a Death Eater. So I am using my married name."

"Married? You're married?" Harry demanded. He certainly didn't think of Serenity as wife material. And there was the question, "Where's your husband?"

"Good questions, Harry. Excellent questions," Severus said, a playful lilt to his tone. He drew Serenity closer with the arm he held around her shoulders and she melded into the curve of his side, resting her head on him. There was that shock of jealously again. It flared red-hot. Harry had made the move earlier and it had been clear that Severus was not quite comfortable with the embrace. Yet he was the one initiating it with Serenity and their bodies seemed to meld together beautifully.

Severus continued speaking, unaware of Harry's line of thoughts. His words shook Harry out of his daze. They were brother and sister, it was silly of him to feel jealous. "I'm shocked and dismayed that you've yet to tell Harry about that little part of your past, Serenity."

"Oh, shove off," Serenity said, punching him lightly in the arm, then turning her gaze to Harry. "Yes, I've been married, though I'm not any longer. And to explain why I am no longer married would answer your question about where my husband is. Henry Renardier was killed by Lord Voldemort right before you got rid of him."

Harry looked immediately contrite, dipping his head. "I'm sorry to have brought it up."

Serenity waved his apology off. "It happened several years ago. We married young. And while I cared for him, we were foolish to marry in the first place. Anyway, he was how I became to be in France.

"I moved to Paris with him before we were married and grew to love the city. His family's ancestral home was right outside the city and I inherited it until my children become adults. Since they had born there, I kept them there. I would have much preferred to teach here, alongside Severus, but I know Henry would have wanted them raised in France."

"Children?" Harry asked, baffled. Honestly, Serenity didn't strike him as mother material. Well, perhaps to himself, but she had also kissed him and he didn't feel that that was appropriate behaviour for a mother. Of course, this new information but things into better perspective for him. Whatever he felt for Serenity, their relationship would never go beyond friendship. He couldn't very well be in a romantic relationship with someone who had children his age. The idea was absurd.

"Are you ever going to cease to amaze me?" he asked.

"Probably not," Serenity said plainly. "I'm a terribly amazing person."

Severus rolled his eyes heaven ward and Harry couldn't help but laugh. "So why didn't you bring your children with you?"

"Well, my middle two would kill me if I ever took them away from their friends in school. I have brought my younger ones along, though, and my eldest. We're staying in a cottage a few miles away. Not quite in Hogsmeade, rather closer to the castle. You're welcome to visit whenever you like. I'm sure the little ones would love you."

"How old are they?" Harry asked, absolutely floored still by the fact that Serenity was a mother. Because that would make Severus anÂ…Uncle. He couldn't help the sudden burst of laughter at the thought and Severus frowned at him, giving Harry the impression that Severus knew just what was going on in his head.

"If you start referring to me as Uncle Sev, I'll have you hung, drawn and quartered," Severus told him sternly. Of course, this only sent Harry further into hysterics and Serenity joined him. "I'm surrounded my simple minded morons."

"Are there any other sort?" Serenity challenged and Harry continued to giggle.

"Oh, I'm certain there are," Harry went along with her, "I've met several very intelligent morons."

"I see," Serenity said slowly. "Like our Severus here." Harry was now shaking with silent laughter and Serenity was wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

Severus stood abruptly. "Serenity," Once he had her attention, he said, "Get out of my room."

"Right. See you tomorrow in class, Harry. I'll be over to piss you off tomorrow after class, Sev," Serenity gave as a parting and then stumbled from the room still laughing.

"She's kinda insane," Harry assessed. Severus nodded. "I gather itÂ’s a family trait." Severus' eyes narrowed.

"I let you stay because I thought that you were only behaving like an idiot because of my sister's influence. If I were wrong," He gestured towards the door.

"Oh, quit acting like a prick," Harry said, waving for Severus to sit down again. "Honestly, these past few days you've been downright prudish. I realise we're going to have to put on quite a show in front of the others, but you have nothing to worry about right now."

Severus shook his head. "It isn't that simple, Potter. You can't sneak down here every night, people would become suspicious. And I've only allowed you to come this evening because we need to discuss what Mister Malfoy said to you."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I want to get something perfectly clear right now, because it will help me out a great deal. I need to know now what our roles are, Severus. Because I understand perfectly that in class you are still my superior and during the school-day as well. But what I don't know is whether you see me as a friend now--an equal. Or if I'm still a child as far as you are concerned."

Severus was silent for a long moment and refused to meet Harry's eyes. Again, Harry felt that he had overdone it, gone one step too far, but he was never certain where he stood with Severus. Right now the older man seemed to be picking his words very carefully. "It is late, perhaps you had better go."

"But what about Malfoy?" Harry demanded angry and sad and incredulous all at once. He never thought that his words would get him dismissed. At least now he knew where he stoodÂ…that had been what he wanted.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow. I'll ask you to stay after class for punishment," Severus said simply. "I doubt Mister Malfoy will do anything in the interim. You're safe at Hogwarts."

"Fine," Harry said shortly and stood to leave, refusing to look in Severus' direction. It was as if they had accomplished nothing earlier, while on the train. Severus had been wrong, everything had changed.

"Harry, wait," Severus called, before he could reach the door. There was a painful, interminable silence, during which Harry stood, frozen, not daring to look back. He tried to remain hopeful, focusing on the use of his first name. "I don't know how to do this." Do what? Harry wondered, his heart beating erratically. Certainly he didn't mean that. Friendship, only friendship. "I've never hadÂ…"

Was it possible that Severus Snape was at a loss for words? "There's no right way to do it, Sev," Harry said, turning back to gaze softly at the man he loved. "JustÂ…we're friends, okay? It's as simple as that." No matter how much I wish it could be more. "You're the one person who understands what it's like to be me. And I feel that I could tell you just about anything. And I don't want to lose that now."

When Severus face grew cold and distant again, Harry took a hesitant step back, wondering what he'd said wrong this time. Severus' eyes were no longer accessible, but there seemed to be some sort of internal struggle going on inside him. "So tell me anything, Harry."

That gave Harry a moment's pause and his eyes widened. Was that what this was about? It made perfect sense now. Severus had told him nearly every secret, all about his youth and his painÂ…his memories of Harry's parents--and Harry had told him nothing in return. "Anything?" Why did his voice have to sound so damn pathetic? Severus nodded.

"IÂ…" Oh God, why was this so hard? He trusted Severus, but perhaps it was because he loved the older man that he felt the need to keep some things secret. Especially when Severus didn't know of Harry's love. "I really wish I had my mother, more than anything else in the world."

Severus' eyes softened, his entire face fell for a brief moment before he regained composure. "When I was little, my aunt would let me sleep in on weekends. My bed was in a cupboard under the stairs, so it was very warm and dark. And sometimes I'd wake up very slowly, wrapped in my blankets and it was so cosyÂ…and I thought that maybe it was my mother holding me.

"And I didn't know what she looked like. My aunt wouldn't let me see any pictures. I didn't want my mom to look like Petunia. That would have been the worst thing in the world. My first year, Dumbledore kept the Mirror of Erised in an unused classroom and I accidentally came upon it." He looked up at Severus and smiled sheepishly. "I was hiding from you, actually.

"I saw my mom and dad in the mirror and I knew it was them right away. I brought Ron to see it andÂ…and he didn't," Harry stopped, feeling suddenly choked up and so embarrassed, because there was no doubt in his mind that Severus was having a laugh over this all. "He didn't see them."

Harry shook his head, furiously squinting his eyes in an attempt to keep from crying. "He saw himself as captain of the Quidditch team and Head Boy and really popular andÂ…"

Severus remained still on the couch, watching Harry very intensely, hanging on his every word. When it was quite obvious that Harry was stuck, Severus asked, "And?"

"And I love Ron, really. But I realised that he would never understand me. I knew he would be the best friend that he knew how to be and I treasured him for that. But I had a feeling that my best friend would have seen my parents. Because if they loved me enough, then all they would have desired at that moment would have been what would make me happy at such an emotional moment in my life," Harry explained, hoping his jumbled words made sense.

"Is that selfish? To have wanted that? To have expected that?" Severus shook his head "no." "See, I knew you'd think so," Harry said. "Because I think that if you and I were there, now, you'd see my parents."

"I would," Severus agreed.

---

Severus shuddered with fury. The thought of Harry Potter--of any child--sleeping in a cupboard was ludicrous. Yet Harry had mentioned it so casually, as if he felt there was nothing particularly wrong with the idea. Severus found himself wondering how long he had been kept there. How long had Lily's sister waited before she found the sight of him repulsive? How had he been treated as an infant? Babies demanded so much attention with constant feeding and changing and so onÂ…and with two children the same age to look afterÂ…

Suddenly, he was hit with the image of Harry as a baby, hungry and in need of changing, crying pitifully in a cradle while Petunia and Vernon spoiled their own child. It made him feel distinctly sick. And to think that the poor boy had been left with his nightmares, in a cupboard full of spiders, probably since he was able to walk.

The fact that Harry had never played up his fame, coupled with the fact that he played down his abuse caused Severus to feel shame over his previous treatment of the boy. He had always thought he was doing Harry a favour, toughing him up, preparing him for the harsh realities of life. What he hadn't realised was that Harry had dealt with those his entire life, and that perhaps what he had needed wasn't someone to be hard on him, but someone to understand him.

For the mistakes he had made in the past, Severus was determined to make things up to Harry. He didn't know how to go about it, but he was sure the path would present itself as their relationship progressed. Tonight had been a good first step, Harry having finally shared some of his feelings with Severus. He only hoped they could keep that sort of open communication going along between them. They were both strong willed and his worst fear was that sooner or later, one of them was going to clam up, and that would bring an end to their relationship for good. After all, if Harry hadn't given in, Severus was quite sure they would still be glaring at each other from afar.

It would take a lot of strength and devotion on both their parts to keep their friendship together. Severus wasn't sure if Serenity would be a help or a hindrance to the whole thing, having already made out with Harry. He didn't know where that was going, and he certainly didn't want to dwell on it.

The most difficult part would be the line that Severus had to lay down and follow carefully. After all, he had to share enough of himself to keep Harry's trust and friendship, but not so much that he revealed how he truly felt for the boy. That would complicate things far too much.

---

Divination came right before Potions, and for that Harry was eternally grateful. He knew the strength he drew from Serenity would be helpful in facing the Slytherins and a once again mean Snape. Ron and Hermione were both excited about the class, as were most of the Gryffindors. With the exception of Lavender and Parvati who thought it had been a great injustice to get rid of Professor Trelawney

When they reached the Divination tower, they were amazed by the changes that had been made. There were no longer pillows or many tables. There was one large table surrounded by strange round seats made of wood and covered in cushions. The air was not sickeningly sweet and it was much cooler. Harry noted that Serenity had hung several crystals like the ones in her bedroom and there were many lit candles all around.

Serenity waited for them to sit and settle in before she began the class. "Good afternoon, children. As you heard from the Headmaster last evening, I am Madame Renardier, but I would prefer it if you would all address me as Serenity. If you are not comfortable with that, you may simply address me as Renardier."

"We will cover many topics in this class, some of which you may have already touched on with Professor Trelawney One thing that you have been told, which is true, is that very few people are gifted with the sight. That does not mean that the rest of you are hopeless as far as Divination goes, however. There are many aspects of Divination that are easily done by all witches and wizards.

"Today I would like to meet with each of you individually and spend a few minutes discussing your magical background. While your classmates speak with me, I would like you to get into pairs and take turns reading each other's tarot. You'll find the pertinent information on page 26.

"Now," she smiled softly and said, "Lavender Brown, please come here."

Lavender and Parvati exchanged sceptical looks, clearly not pleased with the fact that their dear Trelawney had been replaced. "Please, give me a chance, dear," Serenity urged and Lavender reluctantly made her way to the head of the class.

By the end of the class, even the two Trelawney lovers and Hermione were convinced. They had all spoken with Serenity, and she had obviously had something rather amazing to tell them each. Hermione was looking particularly pleased with herself, though she wouldn't say why. Dean was going on about how Serenity said he had potential.

In fact, everyone was in such a good mood, that Advanced Potions with the Slytherins didn't even register until they reached the dungeons. There, they were met with the sneering faces of their contemporaries as Snape gave out the seating arrangements. They never usually lasted longer than a week, because the Slytherins refused to be seated with Gryffindors unless they had a chance to cause havoc. Harry didn't realise why Severus made the seating arrangements, only to have them ignored. That was the one area where he was slack.

Severus would usually put Harry with Draco, just so the Slytherin boy could torture Harry, but perhaps due to the incident on the train, Draco was seated with Lavender. There was a shortage of Slytherins, so Harry was seated with Neville. No one saw this as special treatment, though. Rather, being seated with Neville was viewed by many as a curse.

"Welcome back, Slytherins," Severus said with an almost pleasant smile. It shifted to a sneer as he addressed the other half of his class, "Gryffindors. This year we will be focusing on the more difficult and complex potions known to wizardry in preparation for your NEWTS. You will have one week to prove to me that you are capable of passing this class. If you are not, you will be placed in the applied potions class, where you will learn to master the potions that your classmates learned in their second year."

Neville shifted uncomfortably in his chair when Snape pinned him with a glare and it was quite obvious that the last bit had been addressed solely at Neville. Harry resisted the strong urge to say something in defence of his friend, as he wasn't sure how Severus would react. Of course, Severus was a far better actor than he was. He'd probably just give Harry a detention and laugh hysterically when he forced Harry to disembowel some creature for potion ingredients.

Severus noted Harry's internal battle to stay quiet and could most probably hear what was going on in Harry's head. He arched his brow and the sparkle in his eye, which Harry could identify as playful, was seen as menacing by his classmates. There was challenge there as well, and Harry suppressed the urge to groan as he wondered what Severus was planning.

"Today, you and your partner will try your hand at the Braheams Invisibility potion. There are several different potions to make yourself invisible, but this is one of the simpler ones. This one is applied to the skin, rather than ingested. The upside is that it has no time limit. The downside is that it can be easily wiped away.

"Now, I will expect you each to test a small amount on yourselves at the end of the class, so I suggest that you don't mess this up," Severus added, as if the consequences weren't likely to be ugly when, in fact, they really might be. "The list of ingredients and mixing instructions begin on page 378. Good luck."

Harry sought out Severus' gaze so that he could convey through body language just how pissed he was. He placed his cauldron on the table and drew out his case of potion ingredients and scales. "Wow, that's a really nice set of scales," Hermione cooed from her place behind Harry. He looked over his shoulder to where his best friend was nearly drooling over his equipment. "Where'd you get it?"

For a moment, Harry was frozen with indecision, wondering how to respond. He took a careful route and said, "It was a gift."

"Why would anyone buy you scales?" Ron asked, trying anything to distract him from his own partner, Millicent.

"Well," Hermione reasoned. "His other set was ratherÂ…wellÂ…shoddy."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry muttered. He turned back to his partner. "Now, Neville, why don't you just measure the ingredients and let me do all the mixing, alright?"

Neville nodded his fervent agreement and began scouring the list and drawing out the needed items. Harry hadn't made this particular potion before, but he recognised the principal behind it and the ingredients. The basic idea was to refract light off the object to be made invisible. The potion was fallible, though, because there was a rippling visible to the eye whenever the invisible object moved.

The main ingredient was water, which was always key in displacing light. And sand, which refracted nicely when it reached a certain heat. Followed by a sliver of a unicorn horn. Of course, the sliver had to be removed without harming a unicorn, so the slivers were small and rare. Harry decided that he should be the one to take care of that particular ingredient. There was also needed the dried petal of a Prussian rose and rose oil and the catalyst, powdered diamonds. Severus had provided the sand and powered diamonds, as they were not part of the ingredient list required of students.

Once the water was boiling, Harry added the measurement of sand and watched it become a thick, sludgy consistency. That was the easy part. The sliver of unicorn horn was added and then the potion was allowed to dry. Harry looked around and noted with small satisfaction that he and Neville had got to that point first.

Once the sand started to crumble, he added still more water to bring it back to a boil and vigorously stirred in the rose petal and oil as they lost their effectiveness if they are not mixed quickly.

"We have to rub that on our skin?" Neville asked, peering uncertainly into Harry's cauldron. "It just looks like wet sand. If that's all we need, why didn't we just go to the beach." Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Yeah, well ours looks like that disgusting mud that my mother washes her face with," Malfoy sneered. He was paired with Hermione and Harry turned around to look at their potion. It was no surprise that theirs was actually doing well.

There were mutinous mutterings from the rest of the tables, though, as Slytherins and Gryffindors banded together and decided they didn't want to put that stuff on their skin. "Wow, it's really sparkly," the team of Pansy and Parvati were cooing over the diamond dust and Harry could see disaster waiting to happen.

Gently, holding the spoon in one hand the dust in the other, he sprinkled the powder over the potion and stirred slowly. The reaction was immediate. The was a little pouf of blue air and the potion shimmered, then became clear. A few seconds later, Hermione and Draco's potion did the same.

Severus was making his rounds, forcing table after table to apply the potion to their hands. Most were simply covered in sticky goo. Many less took on a slightly transparent quality. Harry and Neville's hands became completely invisible. Severus said nothing, but his eyes showed his approval for Harry. He of course found flaws for theirs to comment on, while giving Slytherin twenty points for Malfoy and Gryffindor none, despite the fact that Hermione had done all the work.

Harry wouldn't have bothered to complain, were it not for the fact that he needed to be held after class for some reason. "That's not fair. Our potion is ten times better than the crap Malfoy made."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your attitude. And if you truly feel that way, I suggest you remain after class to discuss it with me," Severus said coolly and smoothly.

The bell rang a short time later and the students filter out. Hermione and Ron gave Harry a sympathetic look. "He better not give you a detention," Ron said. "I'll turn him into a ferret, just like Crouch did Malfoy. It'd be a fitting end."

Hermione scowled at Ron's suggestion then turned back to Harry. "He's just sour that you did a better job than Malfoy. Don't say anything stupid, though, Harry. You don't want to get into any more trouble."

"I'll be fine," Harry assured and the last two loitering students left.

Severus waved his wand at the door, shutting and locking it. "Last class of the day," he explained. "Come to my quarters, I've made certain that no one can over hear us there."

The night before, Harry had been rather tired from the trip and not thinking clearly thanks to Serenity's sudden appearance. Today, however, he was able to take in Severus' quarters and be amazed by what he saw.

Harry hadn't been in Severus' room at Snape Manor, but he'd seen the laboratory and he'd always imagined that the bedroom would be similar. That was not at all so, but he shouldn't have been surprised. The room was cosy and relatively small. A dormant fireplace on one wall with a mantel above. There were a three portraits; one of Serenity and Severus, one of Meredith and Peter, and one of Serenity and a man who was presumably her husband, surrounded by several children. Two other walls were covered in books, and his bed took up most of the third wall.

There was a couch and two cushioned chairs off to one side of the room, with a table in the centre. The floor was stone, like the rest of the dungeon, but only bits and pieces could be seen, because it had been covered with several rugs and the walls hung in tapestries, making the room warm, unlike the rest of the dungeons, which were cool even on the hottest day.

A kitchen was in a much smaller room off to the side and was complete with a sink, stove and oven and two of all plates, cups and silverware as well as a table and chairs. There were two doors along the wall with the fireplace, one on either side. One, Harry knew led to the hall outside and he assumed the other lead to the bathroom.

The colours, too, were surprising. There was Slytherin silver and green present, woven into several braided rugs and the curtains around the bed. But the curtains that covered the lone window (which incidentally didn't open to the outside, but rather to a small shut that led up to the ground level and allowed sunlight in) and the sheets of his bed were Ravenclaw colours. Harry knew it made sense for Severus to sport Ravenclaw colours in his private chamber, since Harry figured that was which house the man truly belonged to. The thing that surprised him was the Slytherin presence, which Harry figured Severus wouldn't want to show off.

Severus had cast off his robes, leaving him in his complex suit that always reminded Harry of the Jane Austin movies that his Aunt Petunia had so adored. Of course, Harry would never tell Severus that he reminded Harry of a muggle movie. Harry really didn't understand why Severus wore the clothes here and wore a much more relaxed manner of dress at his home. It wasn't as if anyone was paying attention to what was beneath the robes.

But Harry had to admit that he really, really liked to look at Severus dressed like that. The pants were tight and the high necked, many-buttoned jacket showed of Severus' slender upper body. The sleeves he liked too-a bit of puffy white peeking out at the wrist from beneath the black, hinting at what lay beneath. Harry noticed that Severus had yet to cut his hair, too. During the summer when it had grown long, it had been pulled back in a ponytail. Now it was free to fall longer than ever, down to mid chest. And Harry wondered how he'd ever thought of it as greasy. It was just shiny, like glass and Harry was sure it would be very soft and smooth to the touch.

Severus caught him watching but chose not to dwell on the reason. Because that was a dangerous thing. It was better not to think of your students at all. But then, Severus was supposed to be pushing away the student-teacher aspect, at least when they were in private. Harry didn't seem to realise how dangerous it was to put aside their labels. When that happened, Severus found his gaze drawn irresistibly to Harry's full bottom lip and thought about how nice it would be to suck o--Stop it right now, Severus!

Drawing strength from the thought of what Sirius would do, were he to discover Severus' train of thought, Severus pushed all fantasies from his mind and gestured for Harry to sit. Then he moved to the kitchen area and began to make tea. Up until this point, Harry had doubted that Severus ever did anything so domestic himself. After all, he had a full staff of human and house-elf servants who seemed to do everything. Harry remembered the embarrassing incident where one enthusiastic manservant had attempted to help Harry dress.

Now that he thought about it, Harry wondered if someone dressed Severus and he realised he really shouldn't dwell on that thought. Instead, he took the safe route and brought up a different subject. Out loud. "And how was the first day? Any great mishaps?"

"Why do you think I sat Longbottom with you? I'd like to avoid turning my classroom into a war zone. The damn fourth year Hufflepuffs are more inept than you sixth year Gryffindors and I have them right before you," Severus said. Harry really tried to cover his snort of laughterÂ…really. But Severus glared at him none the less and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if a growl accompanied that particular expression.

"I'm glad that the ineptitude of your peers amuses you."

"Oh, it's not that," Harry said plainly, "I was laughing at you."

Severus chose wisely to ignore that statement. "How was your first day?" The water was steaming now and he poured it through the strainers into the cups and carried the tray to where Harry sat. Harry noted a few pastries and wondered if Severus had made them as well. Somehow the idea of eating something created by a Potions Master didnÂ’t seem like the greatest idea, so he avoided the food and just sipped his tea.

"Transfiguration this morning was hilarious. Seamus somehow managed to turn his table into a Komodo dragon. McGonagall nearly died and all the girls were frightened. But then they've never faced a Hungarian HorntailÂ…so I guess my perspective was coloured. And then we had History of Magic, which was as dull as ever. And Divination comes right before your class, and Serenity managed to win everyone over, not surprisingly." Harry wondered how she had turned out so charismatic and likeable and Severus and turned outÂ…well, likeÂ…Severus.

"Yes, when you don't have to put up with her consistently, I'm sure she can be quite pleasant," Severus remarked, dryly. There was a light knock and then the door opened before Severus could answer, and Serenity entered.

"Are you talking about me behind my back again?" Serenity asked, eyes sparkling.

"Wow, Serenity, did you divine that? You're amazing," Severus said, rolling his eyes. Serenity pursed her lips, and chose to ignore her brother, instead focusing her attention on Harry.

"Harry, darling, I've come to save you from this dreadful hole in the ground. I want you to come to my home and meet my children," Serenity told him. "And Severus is welcome to join us if he promises to be nice."

"I'm always nice," Severus growled. "Besides, Harry and I have to speak with Dumbledore."

Serenity shrugged. "So speak with him. And then come see me. He's allowed outside just like everyone else and my home isn't off the school grounds," she said. "I'll see you down there in a while."

Dumbledore waved them into his office and they sat in the two soft chairs in front of his desk. Fawkes immediately fluttered down from his perch to Harry's knee. He wasn't in his prime, but he wasn't as pitiful as when Harry had first seen him. Harry petted him a few times and turned his attention back to the Headmaster.

Harry hadn't spoke with Dumbledore the entire summer and it was nice to see the familiar smile and twinkling eyes. "Severus, Harry, I've been waiting for you to join me." He was visually scanning them, looking for a sign of where they stood relationship wise. After all, he had rather hoped they could overcome their mutual dislike and at least be civil to one another. "What can I help you with today?"

Severus and Harry shared a look, as neither was clear who would speak first. Harry realised that it took some measure of control for Severus not to take over the conversation, so Harry nodded for him to go ahead.

"Mister Potter has had some trouble with Mister Malfoy on the train," Severus explained.

"Is that so? What did Draco have to say, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, looking not at all troubled by the information.

"Only that the Death Eaters knew where I stayed this summer. Of course, he didn't mention Snape Manor, or Professor Snape at all, so I have no idea whether he was being truthful or not," Harry explained. "But he said that I should figure out how the Death Eaters knew."

"Well, I don't think we should get too worried yet. The only ones who knew of your location were those inside the house and myself. The servants and their mail were monitored in the even that any of them were passing along information." Dumbledore paused. "I imagine that Mister Malfoy was simply attempting to start an altercation. Until we learn otherwise, I think it is safe to assume that he was telling an untruth.

"But the talk of the Death Eaters brings up another subject. Perhaps Harry you will excuse us while Severus and I speak on this matter?"

"He can stay," Severus said. His voice was expressionless, and his face blank. Only his words betrayed the development of his relationship with Harry.

Dumbledore half-smiled, but didn't comment. "Very well. I was hoping that you could go into further detail on your last meeting with the Death Eaters. Your letters were vague at best and you know how I like to hear things in person."

"Of course," Severus said slowly, collecting his thoughts on the last meeting. He had stored that all away the past few days, having met with them the evening before Serenity showed up at Snape Manor. Now he drew them out and organised them before speaking. "Lucius has been serving as a go between from Voldemort to the Death Eaters. For the past four meetings, Voldemort has not made an appearance. Lucius says that he is seeking help from outside sources.

"We have been warned that we must be ready to appear before our lord at any time. Voldemort plans to meet with us all individually before Halloween in order to confirm our allegiance. I have no doubt that he will expect me to create several deadly potions for his use in the coming war. I will of course notify you as soon as I receive my summons."

"Yes, that would be best," Dumbledore agreed, "Especially since the incident with Mister Malfoy. We cannot be too careful where your safety is concerned, Severus. For now, though, you are both free to go. I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."

"Something like that," Severus muttered, too low for Dumbledore to hear, but well within Harry's hearing distance.

Harry scowled in the older man's direction and turned to Dumbledore. "Actually, Serenity wanted to introduce me to her children."

"Ah, and what a lovely group they are, eh, Severus?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Wonderful. After all, they are Serenity's," Severus said with a fake half-smile.

Dumbledore and Harry chose to greet his sarcasm with a smile. "Well then, enjoy your evening. I'll trust that either of you will come to me if you have any more trouble in the future." They both agreed and left the office, heading in separate directions as not to arouse suspicion.

Serenity was waiting near the Great Hall, at the doors that led to the outside world. "Come on, Little Brother will catch up as soon as he gets his head out of his ass."

Harry laughed and followed her from the room. It was a pleasant day out and many students were wondering around the grounds, enjoying their free time. Several students called out to them, waving and wishing them a good evening. It was amazing how quickly Serenity had won her way into the hearts of the students, and Harry could only be amused by the glaringly obvious differences between brother and sister.

They walked for sometime along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, til Harry could no longer hear the sounds of his classmates and could no longer see Hagrid's hut. The castle still loomed in the distance, but Harry knew he had never been this far. Here there were three houses, looking as different from one another as possible. Harry wondered who would possibly be living in the other two, since he assumed all the teacher lived at Hogwarts.

An older man, who looked to be in his late forties, was on one porch in a rocking chair, reading a book and lazily rocking and smoking his pipe. He waved to Serenity and Harry, not really paying them much attention. His house was one story, quaint and pale blue, with a screened wrap around porch and a few flowers scattered here and there in the lawn.

The next house was a bit larger, a two story. In its lawn there were four children, and Harry couldn't guess their age. A pretty woman with long red hair, tied away from her face, was on her knees, weeding the extensive, very beautiful garden and occasionally one or both of the children would run over to hug her. Their lawn was scattered in toys and children's broomsticks, which hovered just above the ground.

Finally, an incredibly large two Victorian style house sat on the end of the row, with no garden, toys or people outside. It was oddly foreboding next to the other two, cheerful houses. It seemed quite out of place. Of course, none of the houses really fit in on the Hogwarts ground.

Serenity strode in the front door and Harry was reminded of Snape Manor at once, similar in décor and structure, though not nearly as big. In one of the front rooms, someone was playing piano. Serenity led him into the music room and the playing stopped at once.

Two girls sat at the piano, one who looked right around Harry's age, with blonde hair and black eyes. The other, much younger, the opposite colouring with shiny black-blue hair and blue eyes.

"Maman," the youngest girl greeted, in a detached tone of voice, staying put. The other two stood to hug their mother.

A guest, mere?" the eldest one asked, offering her hand to Harry. "I am Nathalie."

"Harry Potter," he said, shaking her hand then moving to where the younger girl sat. He offered her a hand, which she glared at in distaste.

"Ouais, Oncle Severus has told me about you," she said. "He doesn't think too highly of you, unlike the mindless millions of wizards who worship you for something you didn't even do."

"Brigitte-Marie," Severus' scolding tone stopped Harry's response. The little girl's composure crumbled and she squealed in delight, running for Severus. He scooped her up in his arms and placed her on his hip while she covered him in kisses. "Brigitte-Marie," he repeated, sternly, craning his neck out of her reach. "Be polite to Harry."

"Mais," Brigitte-Marie's face showed confusion. "Mais, Oncle, I thought you didn't like him."

Severus found Harry's gaze and gave him a slight smirk. "Well, I donÂ’t, but that's no reason to be uncivil. Your class doesn't allow it."

Brigitte-Marie nodded, and stuck her tongue out at Harry over Severus' shoulder. "Cherie, behave yourself."

"Arry Potter," Nathalie purred, "Quel honneur! Fleur Delacour told me so much about you. You really made an impression by saving her sister."

Harry flinched, the thought of the Triwizard tournament bringing back memories of Cedric's death. Both Severus and Serenity realised this, though neither knew if they should approach the subject. "Nathalie," Severus cleared his throat. "I've heard you've been practising some of the more difficult Chopin?"

Nathalie raised her chin a bit, and looked at her mother, Uncle and Harry in turn, appraisingly. Her intelligent eyes sparkled just like her uncle's and she knew something was up, but chose discretion. "Ouais, but I have yet to master all the nuances. My talent is no where near as great as yours is. Would you like to play for me, Severus?"

Severus' eyes darted towards Harry, who was looking curious at the idea. Finally, he nodded his assent and moved to take the bench while his niece moved to stand alongside.

"You're going to play?" Brigitte-Marie asked. "Don't let us stop you."

"I--" Harry hesitated, "I want you to sing something."

Severus looked up quickly, narrowing his eyes. "I don't sing," he said low and plainÂ…with finality. Harry nodded his understanding. Severus stared at him a moment longer before turning his attention back to the piano. His fingers spread over the keys, and after a brief hesitation, he began to play.

The composition was like nothing Harry had ever heard before. The sound was rich and thick and so incredibly filled with emotion. It built, swelling to awesome heights and nearly tangible, as if it were weaving around the room, creeping into Harry's skin, invading his senses. He focused on Severus, watched his face, unreadable, nearly expressionlessÂ…but his eyes were a different story entirely, reminding Harry of that moment in the woods, when his soul had been bared.

Once the music had ended, it took Harry a moment to regain his composure enough to speak. "I've never heardÂ…who composed that?"

"Della Moonrock. She's a wizard, that's why you've never heard it," Severus explained. Muggles don't usually cope well with wizard compositions. For example, under the Muggle name Schonburg, Gunter Blutaufbau and they simply couldn't appreciate it, couldn't understand the magic of it. Since his failure, no wizards have attempted to cross over."

Harry would have never thought it possible to actually infuse magic into music, but here was his proof, right away, he wanted more. "I've never heard Schon--Blutaufbau. Would you play some of his work?"

Severus looked towards Brigitte Marie, "Tu saves la chanson en anglais?"

"Mais oui," she responded. "The music." She selected an aged music book from the shelf and handed it to Severus.

At first, the song meant nothing to Harry, and he could see why the Muggles didn't like it. It seemed as though Severus were doing no more than playing random, unrelated chords and that the music had no purpose whatsoeverÂ…but thenÂ…Brigitte Marie began to sing and the words, coupled with the otherworldly sound began to affect him. It was as if his eyes had been opened to a whole new universe of understanding. And it was utterly amazing.

---

The following weeks seemed to fly by as the students became accustomed to school life. To Harry, splitting his time between Ron and Hermione, the Snapes, and school, everything seemed a blur. Luckily, his grades weren't suffering. He was doing a wonderful job in Potions and without having to constantly worry about what Snape would do to him next, he could focus on his other classes as well. Though he didn't possess the sight, he was learning everything there was to know about Divination. Charms was simple, second nature to him--Flitwick said he must have got that from his mother, which had pleased Harry immensely. He was still struggling a bit in McGonagall's class, but he was studying diligently. The thing that surprised everyone was how pleasant DADA classes were, and informative. Over all, it was starting out to be quite a nice year at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Ron were bickering as usual, and patently clueless as to the attraction between them that everyone else saw. Sometimes Harry considered taking their wands, locking them in the astronomy tower together and forcing them to figure it out. And he was sure, by the looks the other sixth year Gryffindors often threw their way that he wasn't the only one planning something like that.

Since the incident with Malfoy on the train, Harry had tried his best to avoid the other boy, and they had yet to have a single confrontation outside of classes, much to Harry's great relief. Still, he could feel Malfoy's eyes on him at all times, during classes, meals, in the hallway. It was disconcerting to say the very least, to turn and catch those silver eyes. Malfoy never flinched, never turned away, just kept staring, drilling into Harry's soul, it seemed. Harry was always the one to turn away.

Quidditch tryouts had been held and several new members and alternatives had been added. Third year Denise Leiland, Dean and Lavender were added as the Chasers, Ron and seventh year Rian Mellon were the new Beaters. Much to everyone's surprise, Neville proved quite adept at beating a Bludger and although he wasn't yet good enough to be a regular, he was added as an alternative to the team, as had a third year, Julie Global. Hermione had shocked everyone by trying out (she said it was for Ron, for moral support) but it turned out that she could play amazingly well. While there was no need for a keeper, as Sarah had been added only the year before, Harry placed Hermione as the alternate, with ever intention of using her in play at least once that year.

In practice, everyone had a chance to play, even alternates, as the teammates were pitted against one another. The first game of the year would be between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaws had the upper hand because only one of their players had been lost the year before, a chaser, and the new player had been an alternative. Therefore, Harry was driving his team harder and harder every night, trying to get them in peak physical condition.

Harry and Lilah hovered far above the rest of the players, watching the action and searching for a spark of gold below. Lilah was really no competition for Harry, but he wanted her trained and ready for when he graduated, so he kept her on as alternate Seeker. From his high position, he was afforded the perfect view of his players. Rian was tailing Dean, who for some reason was being stalked by an angry Bludger. Neville was vicious with his club, sending the other Bludger towards both Aaron and Micheal, whoever was closer. Ron was busy protecting the same two from Neville's blows and Julie flew around aimlessly, waiting for her chance to prove herself.

Lavender ducked a Bludger sent by Julie, who had finally intercepted and scored a point against Sarah, sending the Quaffle flying through the centre post. Michael took possession and soared at high speed to the other end of the pitch, aiming for the end post, as Hermione was guarding the centre hoop. He threw with perfect precision, but Hermione intercepted, catching the ball by hand and tossing it in a perfect arch over Rian's head to Dean, who scored against Sarah, again. Furious, Harry called a time out, bringing his team to the ground.

"What the hell is going on, Sarah? That's forty points you've thrown away. You're our key defence and you're losing to the alternate!" Harry shouted, stalking towards his Keeper.

Sarah bowed her head meekly, avoiding Harry's gaze. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what's the matter. I guess I haven't got back into the swing of things, yet."

Harry said, softer now, "Hermione's going to play on Saturday and I hope that you'll be able to go in our next game. I don't want to lose you, but you're going to have to shape up." He turned to Rian and Ron. "You two are doing great, but Rian, next time I need you to get that Bludger off your team mate and on the other team, understood. Neville, very nice."

"Denise, Lavender, Dean, I don't want you two getting cocky. I expect you to stay after, and Hermione as well, two on one. I think a half-hour will be plenty. Hermione needs the practice anyway."

Harry turned to the rest of his team, "Everyone else, get some rest and take tomorrow off. Remember we're in the same dorm, I'll know if you don't get to sleep early. I expect you all at the pitch immediately after breakfast on Saturday, and I want you all to have eaten. You all can go. I'm going to stay behind to supervise these guys." He gestured to his chasers and Hermione.

The rest of the team trudged to the locker rooms to get cleaned up in a daze and Harry turned back to the others. He gave Hermione a sympathetic smile, but she only smiled eagerly in return. It seemed she liked to study extra hard at everything she did, not only schoolwork.

A half hour later, the four remaining members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team left the pitch as well, thoroughly exhausted, but much more confidant for their game that weekend.

"Are you coming back to the dorms?" Hermione asked, as she and Harry trailed behind the other two. She had of course noted that Harry hadn't been spending all of his extra time with Ron and her and while she wasn't angry, she wished she could be let in on his secret. She had a very strong suspicion that his frequent disappearances had to do with where he had stayed over the summer, so she knew his safety was at risk.

Harry could see everything that was going on in Hermione's head, and he appreciated her understanding. It was times like this when he thought that she was far too good for Ron, and then he felt like a betrayer. "Out of everyone, you're the one I wish I could tell the most," he whispered.

Hermione smiled, bit her bottom lip, and in a moment of rare physical affection, she reached out and took Harry's hand with her own, lacing their fingers together. "I wish you could tell me too," she said softly. "But I know that you can't and I'm not angry. Just a little frustrated." Her smile grew. "You know how I get when I can't figure something out."

Harry stopped walking for a moment, and just looked at Hermione. To say that she was beautiful would have been an understatement. In fact, she was quite likely one of the prettiest girls in the school. The tan still lingered, and the recent workouts from practice had added to her muscle definition, but had not taken from her feminine curves. Her hair had faded back to its original dirty blonde, which suited her far better than the nearly white colour she'd had at the beginning of school. Her two rows of tiny white teeth stood out in stark contrast to her full, pink lips, her dimples gave her an impish air.

Her bone structure was purely lovely, and her smile, which reached her brown eyes, lit up her entire face, made her seemingly glow. "What?" she asked, raising her free hand to brush her face and run through her hair. "What?"

For a long time, Harry couldn't speak, because he simply didn't know how to respond. He felt strongly for Hermione, of course, stronger than he felt for Serenity, despite their bond. What he felt for her wasn't physical at all, because while he appreciated her beauty, he did so as one appreciated fine art. His feelings for her were based upon years of understanding and knowledge and close friendship. Perhaps, if he allowed himself to, he could even learn to love her as he did Severus. And yet, like with Severus, he knew he wasn't at her level, and he didn't know how she had ever deigned to be his friend. He treasured her quiet empathy and her amazing intelligence and for being all the things that Ron just couldn't be.

In that moment as he stared at her, he realised just how similar to Severus she was, and it was in that same moment that he noted what an amazing team the two of them would make. Severus had to admire her intelligence, and if Hermione ever grew to know Severus as Harry did, there was no doubt in his mind that a strong friendship could be forged--perhaps even more. Unlike with Serenity, Harry didn't feeling any jealousy, only resignation. Hermione Snape had a much better ring to it than Harry Snape did. And besides, there was very little chance that Severus himself was gay. Who better for him than the female equivalent of himself?

Hermione had given up on trying to figure out what was going on in Harry's head. Rather, she met his eyes calmly, lovingly and waited him out, still clinging to his hand. She wanted to draw him to her in a hug, let his head rest against her chest and tell him that whatever was bothering him would turn out alright. She restrained from doing so, unsure of what was acceptable as far as touching went with friends of the opposite sex.

"Don't settle for less than you're worth," Harry said at last and reached out to run a hand down her cheek.

At once, Hermione knew to what he referred. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closer and gazed off towards the castle, to where the third point of their triangle was held. "I haven't yet, have I?" she asked, a sad note to her voice, as she realised that yes, she was above Ron and no, no matter how much she cared for him, she wouldn't settle.

Harry seemed content with that answer as well and as a unit, they turned away from one another and continued their journey back to the castle in silence. When they reached the great hall, it was completely deserted. The grandfather clock read a quarter til midnight. Harry reluctantly released Hermione's hand. He struggled with his words, wondering how he could apologise for leaving her, for keeping such a huge secret from her. He wanted to tell her where he was going, he wanted to tell her what he felt for Severus. He had the feeling that she would be able to tell him what to doÂ…she was smart like that.

Instead, he whispered, "I'll be up in a while. Don't wait on me."

Hermione's lashes fluttered softly and she nodded her head. Again, her lip was caught between her teeth and she looked torn, wanting just as desperately as Harry to say something to bridge the gap between them. Finally, she stepped close, brushing her fingers lightly over his scar. Harry flinched and fought the urge to step back. Hermione had never done anything so personal. She murmured, close to his face, longingly, for she saw things far differently than he did, in context as to who was worthy of who. "You can't settle for less, either. Can you?" She didn't wait for an answer, simply stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his cheek. "Good night Harry. Go be with the one you love."

Harry was left stunned, watching her retreating back until she was long gone, both her image and the noise her shoes made upon the stone floor. Yet another example of how intuitive the talented Miss Granger was. Now more than ever Harry wished he could reveal his secrets to her. And at the same time, he wished he could talk to someone about Hermione, as well. Ron would never understand. Worse, he'd be hurt, thinking Harry was trying to take something that wasn't either of theirs in the first place. Serenity would mock him. There was the option of telling Severus, but Harry didn't know how well that would go over, considering how the older man had reacted to Serenity kissing Harry.

With a disgruntled, annoyed sigh, Harry spun towards the opposite hall and began his long journey towards the dungeons. He was nearing the Slytherin dorms when he rounded a corner and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

Draco was leaning against the wall, on elbow propping him up, legs crossed at the ankle, defining cool elegance. And while he had adopted a stance of casual indifference, he had also effectively blocked the passage. It was clear his demeanour could change at any moment, become threatening or even violent. His eyes were turbulent, but the rest of his face calm. "Now, what would you be doing down here, Potter?" he asked, turning his face slowly to meet Harry's gaze.

Harry said nothing, frozen on the spot, staring blankly at Malfoy for he had not appropriate lie, no straws to grasp for. Malfoy knew this and pushed himself away from the wall, walking a short distance away from Harry and looking back down the hall that led to his common room. "I know you're going to visit him. They know too." Malfoy turned back to him and raised his brow in a manner that reminded Harry strongly of Severus. "And yet here you are, risking both your lives. I don't think you're taking my warnings seriously."

"I don't know what you're on about," Harry told him through gritted teeth.

Malfoy bent his head side to side an annoyed, "yeah, yeah, we've been through this lie before" look gracing his features. "Say what you will. I'm trying to help you out here. If you won't listen to me, it will be your fault when they find him dead."

Harry swallowed hard, the fear returning. Now more than ever he was convinced that Malfoy knew what was going on, and he still had no idea how the Slytherin knew it. If Dumbledore has assured that the servants didn't tell, then there was no way he could think of the information leaking. "Why are you helping me?" he asked at last, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A slow, cat like grin curled one side of Draco's narrow lips and he took slow, deliberate steps towards Harry. With every inch he gained, Harry grew even tenser, but would not do Draco the favour of backing away. Draco's fingers wrapped around Harry's biceps, his nails digging in lightly and he pulled their bodies together. They were the same height, exactly and their bodies lined up perfectly, their eyes meeting. Malfoy's long, pink tongue shot out and caught in the dip above Harry's lip, licking away the sweat. "Maybe I like you," he whispered silkily, before letting Harry go abruptly and stepping back several paces. "Take my advice or not, its up to you now." And with that, Malfoy was gone, back down the dungeon hall, to his dorm.

Shaken, Harry was torn between risking going to Severus room, with the chance that Malfoy might follow, or returning to the Gryffindor common room, with no one to share his fears with. Eventually, Severus' safety won out and Harry resignedly made his way back to his own end of the castle.

The journey seemed to take mere seconds, though Harry noted the grandfather clock read ten til one when he passed it the second time around. Then Harry was again safe in Gryffindor tower, where there was a fire still crackling merrily in the hearth and no dampness clung to the floor and walls. The common room was empty, save Hermione, who lay curled on the couch, fast asleep, but obviously waiting for Harry. A surge of tenderness took him and he went to her side, kneeling and taking her shoulder gently.

"Hermione." She stirred, stretching her arms above her head and opening her eyes groggily. She just watched him for a moment, still caught in a world between dreams and reality and smiled slowly at him, perhaps still thinking she was in a dream. "Come with me," he beckoned, his hand on her arm helping her to her feet. He led her across the room to the game closet and pulled the door closed behind him once they were inside. A whispered silencing spell and then he turned his full attention on her.

Hermione was now fully awake and watching him warily, knowing Harry Potter was capable of just about anything, but not sure at all what they were doing in a closet together. "I want toÂ…I need to tell you."

She took a step forward and rubbed his arm up and down, keeping constant contact. "Then tell me. But only if you're sure."

"Severus," he said, plainly and Hermione didn't look the least bit surprised. Of course she wouldn't. The logic of the choice would be clear to her. And she of all people would be able to interpret the looks exchanged between Harry and Snape in class.

"You've grown close," she surmised. It wasn't a question, but Harry nodded anyway. "How close?" God, she was bloody brilliant.

"I." His voice caught. "We're only friends. Good friends. He's told me a great deal about his past and his family and I've shared a lot with him."

Hermione searched his face for signs that he might be lying. "You weren't there long. What happened?" She appeared as though she were expecting the worst he could throw at her.

"Malfoy." Hermione's eyes widened as far as they could go, but she quickly regained her composure. "What he said on the trainÂ…I think he may have been telling the truth. Again tonight he said that he knew where I was going and that if Severus ended up dead, it would be my fault."

"He said that? He named Snape?"

Harry faltered, "No, not by name. He said, 'it will be your fault when they find him dead.'"

"Have you ever considered that he's just trying to get under your skin?" Hermione said gently. "It wouldn't be the first time Malfoy's lied to get to you." She paused again, noting the sudden whiteness of her friend. "What?"

"HeÂ…" Harry trailed off and swallowed hard, trying to get moisture back in his suddenly dry throat. "He licked me," he choked out.

"What?" Hermione's voice was shrill, her eyes once again wide.

"And he said he liked me."

"Oh," she murmured, putting a hand to her temple. "This is too much for one night. Did you tell Snape?"

"I didn't see him tonight, I didn't want to risk it. But I told him and Professor Dumbledore the night we arrived. Neither one of them seemed worried. They said there was no way that Malfoy had found out and that he was simply trying to start a fight. But, HermioneÂ…he knows. I know he does."

"I believe you," she said, after a long, long pause. "I believe you. God. Harry, this is--"

"Insane?" he supplied, "I know. Hermione I--"

"No," Hermione interrupted, laying her hand on his forearm again. "Not insane, just very complicated. I think the best thing is to try and tell Dumbledore and Snape again. If you think Malfoy is sincere, you have to warn Snape."

"I've tried!" he protested. "They said that there was no way the Death Eaters could have found out where I was staying. Only the servants, Severus' mother and Serenity knewÂ…" He trailed off, looking up at Hermione who was watching him with a false look of annoyance, humour toying around her lips.

"And what does Serenity have to do with any of this?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms and pinning him with a McGonagall-esque glare.

"She's Sev's older sister."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Serenity Snape?" For a long moment, she couldn't come up with words to articulate her incredulity. "Serenity? And Snape?"

Despite everything, Harry began to chuckle and Hermione soon joined him, til the both of them were leaning on the walls and each other for support, gasping for air. "Oh, I would pay to see those two having a sibling spat!" she shrieked.

"You have no idea," Harry agreed. "They are unbelievable. Severus is really unbelievable. I wish you could know him like I do, Herm."

Sobering, Hermione gave him an intense look. "I think one day I will, Harry."

Harry gave her a smile in return for her words. "I knew telling you would make everything better."

"You place too much faith in me," she assured him. "Let's go to bed. I need sleep to help wrap my mind around this. We'll talk more in the morning."

But after Hermione had left him, and he was settled in his bed, listening to the other boys sleep peacefully, Hermione's words did little to calm him. Without her comforting presence at his side, Harry was restless and anxious and far too nervous to even think of sleeping. A little voice in the back of his head was telling him he had to get out of bed right now and go warn Severus, or it would be too late. The rational (decidedly smaller) portion of his brain was telling him that Severus was already asleep and was at no risk, safe within the walls of Hogwarts.

Harry twisted and turned for several minutes, making a tangle of his blankets and causing him to sweat, but was no more comfortable for his effort. Finally, he settled on his back, staring hard at the ceiling, an eerie blue light cast from the moon. The mood it created certainly did nothing for Harry's piece of mind. He realised, that of all the things on his mind, Malfoy's tongue should not be the most prominent and it disturbed him greatly that it was. The wet tickle against his skin had been unwelcome, but not at all unpleasant. Harry shivered at the memory and his own thoughts, feeling dirty. He's a Death Eater.

Sleep was not coming, that much was certain. He wasn't even, tired, really. In fact, he was thrumming with energy. For a long while he lay in bed, torn as to what he should do. Staying in bed was not at all appealing. The tower was hot and stuffy and lying within his curtained bed, Harry felt trapped. Worse than he ever had in his cupboard. At least that had been cosy. Of course, there was no way he was going back down to the dungeons, he simply wouldn't risk it. Generally, roaming the halls would help calm him, but tonight he felt no desire to do that. The clock said it was nearly three in the morningÂ…

As quietly as possibly, Harry slipped out of his bed and opened the chest at the foot of his bed. His invisibility cloak was buried deep within, along with the Marauder's Map, and as he was digging through the contents, he noticed something that he hadn't seen in a very long time.

The journal had been a gift to Dudley for his eighth birthday, but it had been a silly present for Dudley. After all, Harry's cousin wouldn't write anything that wasn't for school. Therefore, the book remained unused for several months on Dudley's bookshelf before being abandoned to the second bedroom. Only after Harry was quite sure Dudley had forgotten it entirely did he rescue it from its dusty prison.

He only wrote at night, when he was sure his family was sleeping and hid it under his pillow and sheets during the day. He had to make his own bed and clean his own sheets, so Aunt Petunia never found it. Once he'd moved into the bedroom, he'd forgot it just as Dudley had, leaving it on the bookshelf and writing in it no more. Now he used quills and parchment, not Muggle journals.

But, as he had been packing the past summer, when he knew he was leaving the Dursleys behind, possibly forever, he'd been compelled to take it with him. He was really quite curious to see what he'd written about so long ago, before he knew about magic, before he was a heroÂ…Of course, summer at Snape Manor had pushed all thoughts of the journal out of his mind and now that the book was once again in his sights, his curiosity was renewed. He took the book as well, wrapped himself in his cloak and sneaked from the tower, to where, he didn't know.

The castle seemed entirely too stuffy, too confining and it contained all his troubles that night, so he found himself outside, wandering through the gardens. It was well into the fall by now, and colourful leaves covered the ground all around the forest. Harry found a bench well secluded from the castle one would not be able to see him, so he allowed the cloak to fall from his shoulders, set aside his map and wand and focused entirely on the book.

He'd not written his name in the book at all, probably afraid of what would happen were his aunt to find it. Of course he hadn't realised at the time that she'd know he'd been the one using it, whether his name was on it or not. The first entry was rather elementary, naming the book, of all things, Hermione. It was a shock to him now, but the paragraph explained that he'd read it in Shakespeare play. Harry flipped through the pages, reading a few lines here and there until, several pages in, he read a line that caused him to freeze completely, his heart pausing along with him. He must have been about ten when he wrote it, but it could have been yesterday.

Dear Hermione,

I've been having strange dreams, lately. I've been worried to write about them. If my aunt or uncle ever found out, I'd be in a lot of trouble. I dream that I'm in a cave in the middle of a big field, but all the plants in the field are dying and so are the animals. There is a woman in the cave with me, making a fire. She won't look at me--I've asked her to. She's not mean, she says nice things, but she won't let me see her. She's very skinny, like my aunt. She says things, but I don't understand what she means. She talks about rain coming, but I've been here several nights and it never rains. She also talks about a man who knew my parents. She says I'll meet him soon, after my birthday. I don't think that will happen. My aunt and uncle hate it when I talk about my parents. I don't think they will let me speak to anyone my parents knew. But she says lots of things will happen when I turn 11Â…she even talks about magic, but I know better than to repeat that around my house.

The weirdest thing about the dream is I think I've had it before. I can't remember very much from when I was little. In fact, just about the only thing I do remember is my dreams. And I think that this dream is one I've had for a very long time. I can't tell anyone about it, but I really wish I could. The dreams are so strange and I wonder what will happen when I turn 11. My birthday isn't until July and it is only March, now. I hope it isn't anything bad.

Your friend.

Harry sat frozen, staring blankly at the words heÂ’d written so long ago. He was stricken by the words--if only heÂ’d paid closer attention to this then. If only Severus had treated him like a human being, rather than a pesky bugÂ…perhaps he would have met Serenity many years ago, maybe they would have already solved the mystery of their connection.

He slammed the book shut, his stomach turning. None of this made any sense. If heÂ’d been dreaming about her for so long, why couldnÂ’t he remember? And why hadnÂ’t Serenity mentioned their lengthy history? He felt half possessed to storm off to SerenityÂ’s house at the moment, shove the book in her face and demand an answer. While he was still stewing over his possibilities, he felt cool fingers brush against his neck, and come to rest on his shoulder.

With a start, Harry turned, and came face to face with Nathalie. Her platinum hair had been swept up in a bun and with fluttering silver robes to hide her figure, a long graceful neck and wide, black eyes, she looked so much like her uncle, it was uncanny. “Bon Soir, ‘Arry,” she greeted, sinking to sit beside him on the stone bench. “You are out past curfew.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Harry said blandly, looking away from her. “Besides, you’re out past curfew too.”

“Ouais,” Nathalie agreed, with a tip of her head. “Mais, je ne suis pas…pardon…I am not a student. Maman started me at school early, zat ez why I am no longer at Beauxbatons.” The hand on Harry’s shoulder lingered, then crept up to his hair line, her fingers sinking into the curls at his neck. “Somezing is troubling you. I know I am not my mozer, nor mon Oncle, mais…perhaps you can confide in me?”

Harry finally looked at her, and lost himself at once in her wide, fathomless black eyes, so like Severus’…why couldn’t he fall in love with someone his own age? After all, Nathalie was lovely and intelligent…talented. Why couldn’t he fall in love with her? Why did everything in his life have to be an ordeal? “Lucky thing you aren’t your mother, right now,” Harry whispered, his voice coming out much lower than he intended. “I’m not so happy with her.”

A humorous smile tugged at the corner of her narrow lips. “What has she done now?” she asked, with a toss of her head.

“Well, only neglected to tell me that these dreams have been going on for at least seven years.”

Nathalie' brows furrowed. “Dreams, ‘Arry?”

“We share dreams, Serenity and I. I guess that she’s just there to help me out, to give me guidance. But they’ve become quite frequent. These days, we can’t seem to avoid them. She’s promised that she’s trying to find a way to end them…but if they’ve been going on for as long as they have, I doubt there’s any hope.” Harry’s shoulders slumped in resignation.

“Zere is always hope, cher,” Nathalie said, earnestly. “You have taught me that.”

“What? How have I?”

“Oh, come now.” Nathalie giggled and for the first time, she looked nothing like her uncle. “Must you really ask…I waz raised on the fairy tale of you. I thought it waz all a dream, that none of it waz true, but it still gave me ze knowledge zat good triumphed over evil.”

Harry blushed furiously, ducking his head. “That was not me. That was my mother’s love for me.”

“Zen you must have inspired a great deal of love,” Nathalie murmured. Harry felt her lips press against his cheek. “I know you do…I see it in my uncle’s eyes.”

Harry started, looking up at her, his eyes wide with surprise. “What?” He tried to sound as confused as possible, but he wasn’t sure it worked, because Nathalie only gave him a knowing smile.

“Oh, please, do not insult my intelligence,” Nathalie ordered. “I have known Oncle Severuz for meeny years more zan you ave, and I know he guardz hiz emotions well…but I also know how to see past zose guards, to see what lies in hiz heart. When he played piano, he played for you. Every bit of emotion wizin zee music waz emotion he felt for you. Do not doubt zat he feels strongly for you, ‘Arry.”

Harry stared at her for a long time, statement like that of a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of how to respond, if he should deny comprehension, or thank her, or simply ignore all that had passed. Finally, he pressed the journal into her hands. “Will you give this to your mother? Tell her I need to speak with her as soon as possible.”

“Mais oui,” Nathalie told him, with a nod. She drew him close, his small frame dwarfed by her tall, lanky one. She placed a kiss in his hair. “Rest well, do not let your mind be troubled.”

“I’ll try,” he assured her. As a last thought, as he watched her move away, her slivery gowns shifting gracefully about her form, he called, “Will you come to my Quidditch game on Saturday? You can bring the others.”

Her eyes lit up. “I would like zat veery much,” she assured him.

Feeling a tiny bit better after speaking with Nathalie, Harry decided it was best to attempt to sleep. After all, heÂ’d kill a member of his team if he knew they were up this lateÂ…and he had to get up for classes anyway, in a few brief hours. He shuddered as he realised he had Transfiguration first thing in the morning and that he would be too dead to Transfigure at all, let alone properly. So, dragging his legs and feeling quite lethargic, he pocketed the MarauderÂ’s Map and swept his cloak over his shoulders and head.

The trip back up to the castle seemed to take forever, though he knew it was a good thing he was going back tired, as that meant he would actually get sleep rather than tossing listlessly around in his sheets. He was so tired, and unaware, in fact, that he didnÂ’t notice the way his left foot poked out from under his cloak every time he took a step forward. Nor did he notice, upon entering the great hall, anotherÂ’s presence.

“Going somewhere, Potter,” a soft, velvety voice drawled, and immediately, Harry was frozen in place, his mouth dry, his heart racing, and he became painfully hard. It was amazing the affect that voice on him. He had to fight back a moan.

Severus was standing against the far wall, looking very smug. The smirk across his lips was one that Harry was all too familiar with, after years of being in SnapeÂ’s class. The thrills it caused in him now, though, were entirely different from the ones heÂ’d received then. He met SeverusÂ’ eyes and let out a gasp of shock. The look was smoldering, his eyes sparkling with intense feeling, narrowed to mere slits, but no less powerful.

Slowly, painfully slow…Severus crossed to Harry’s side, somehow knowing exactly how Harry’s body stood in relation to his left foot. His stomach brushed lightly against Harry’s back, his breath stirred against Harry’s cheek. The cloak slipped from nerveless fingers to pool at Harry’s feet. “I…” What was the matter with him? This was Severus…Severus, not Professor Snape. He should be able to speak comfortably…unless Sev was going to punish him only to prove the point that he would be treated no differently as far as school rules went. “I couldn’t sleep, Sir.”

Severus’ face tipped forward, over Harry’s shoulder and Harry turned his head slightly so Sev could meet the green eyes. His hands gripped Harry’s shoulders briefly, then slid down the now visible arms to hold slender wrists. A playful, dangerous smirk danced around his lips. “Sir…?” Severus queried. Harry whimpered. There was no getting around it.

The grip on his wrists was sending sexual shocks through his entire body. The look he was being given mirrored, he was sure, the look in his own. What the FUCK??? Was pretty much all Harry’s mind was up for supplying him with. But, he couldn’t really say that out loud…on second thought. “What the Fuck?”

Severus actually laughed. Granted, it was a very sinister sounding, lasting only a half-second laugh. But, it was a laugh. “Funny choice of wording, Harry.” The way he used Harry’s first name sent a shiver down Harry’s spine…a good shiver. Never had he thought of his name as erotic before.

“Severus…” The word was hissed half in warning, half in need. He groaned, pressing himself backwards, into Severus. His wrists fought against the grip and Severus released him, only to find their fingers wound tightly together. It felt so very right, Severus holding his hands like that, so perfect and equal. It felt even better when full, warm lips were pressed against Harry’s neck and opened over his pulse and began to suck hard. Harry’s knees gave out, but Severus held him up, never releasing his hands, refusing to cease the pressure on his neck till a vivid bruise had blossomed. “Severus!”

It probably wasnÂ’t a good idea for Harry to be shouting his professorÂ’s name in the middle of the great hall. It was probably an even worse idea for Harry to be doing what he was doing with his professor in the great hall. That really didnÂ’t seem to matter to him too much, right now. Especially not when SevÂ’s lips crawled up over his chin and claimed HarryÂ’s mouth. He needed moreÂ…moreÂ…

Harry growled, taking his mouth and hands from Severus just long enough to turn to face the older man. Then, they were kissing againÂ…lips melding together in a perfect fit, breath mingling, tongues sliding together in a wet heat. Neither struggling to lead the kiss, neither struggling for control in their relationship.

“Severus…” he moaned into the kiss…before now, he would have thought it impossible to speak while kissing, but now he knew better. What he didn’t know what how far Severus intended this to go, at the moment, because he could barely restrain himself from pinning Sev to the nearest wall and doing…something to him. “Please, Severus…God! Please.” His eyes were wide and begging.

A gentle kiss was placed to his lips, lovingly. Severus’ eyes were no longer playful, only completely sincere and so full of adoration that Harry nearly took a step back in shock. He smoothed his elegant hands over Harry’s hair, brushed kisses all over Harry’s upturned face. Then he smiled, at it was a benevolent, tender curl of his lips, so foreign. “Soon,” he promised.

Then they were on a bed. Harry blinked rapidly, looking around in wonder. Hermione had told them a thousand times over that there was no apparition within the school grounds. Of course, a port key had worked, but Harry didnÂ’t think Severus made a habit of carrying around a port key to his bedroom. The puzzle of just how theyÂ’d got there was pushed from his mind as he was pushed back into the downy sheets of SeverusÂ’ bed.

Long, silky black hair hung around their faces like curtains as Severus bent to claim another kiss, hovering over HarryÂ’s body. One of his legs had slid between HarryÂ’s and was nudging at the hardness there. Harry growled again, and moaned, whimpered nearly all at once and he guess he sounded pathetic, but that really didnÂ’t matter. He reached up and dug his fingers into the cloth of SeverusÂ’ robes and pushed back against SeverusÂ’ leg.

SevÂ’s fingers tangled in his hair, danced over his scar, brushed down the side of his cheek and that was when Harry realised that his glasses were goneÂ…again, he didnÂ’t bother wondering how that had happened. How could he when something was building inside him so powerful in its pleasure and every time Severus rubbed against his erection, the pleasure swelled higher. It was amazingÂ…unbelievable that anything could feel so good.

He wanted to tell Severus that he loved him, but his throat wasnÂ’t working anymoreÂ…his eyes wouldnÂ’t stay open. The only thing he could bring himself to do was cling helplessly to Severus while the older man did all the work, and occasionally return the kisses that were dropped against his lips. OhÂ…GOD!!!! He could feel it coming, reaching the plateauÂ…but the feeling in his stomach and groin now was soÂ…good that he couldnÂ’t imagine anything being better. But he needed release, or the pleasure was going to kill himÂ…nothing could feel this good for very long.

CouldnÂ’t even cry out as he finally found that releaseÂ…only screamed silently, his lips working, but not his vocal chordsÂ…the sound was stuck in his throat. He was crying, sobbing, eyes squeezed tightly shut, hands letting go of fabric to slid around SeverusÂ’ back and draw his body down, so Harry could hug him close. Soothing kisses were being placed over his cheeks and forehead. Fingers were rubbing through his hair and that felt sinfully good, almost as good asÂ…

HarryÂ’s eyes relaxed a bit and he drew in calming breaths as he held SevÂ’s body to his own. Severus was being so patient, not asking for any gratification in return, just holding him and touching him and making him feelÂ…Slowly, he drifted to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic beating of SeverusÂ’ heart against his chest, and their breaths, which matched perfectly and the gentle touches his lover gave him.