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Saturday, October 16, 1998 ---- 8:08 a.m.
Harry sighed as he dragged a spoon through his porridge.
"Something else you'd prefer?" asked Severus, crisply folding his newspaper and laying it aside. "You know you've only to ask."
"I'm just dreading the stupid Quidditch clinic I scheduled. Four teams at once is too many students, and that's not even counting how annoyed they'll be this afternoon when they have to leave Hogsmeade early on my account."
Severus stilled, not liking the sound of Harry's comments. He'd been looking forward to an extended session with Renard for weeks, now. This time, with Renard both looking and acting like Harry. Severus deserved a morning and afternoon of pleasure, didn't he? Once in a while, at least? He'd been as patient with Harry as anyone could expect, but there were limits, after all. If he didn't get some relief soon, he'd be throwing Harry to his back on the bed and--
No, Severus couldn't imagine that much good could come of that.
Though it would certainly feel good, he inwardly groused. And it was high time, wasn't it? He was owed something for all these months of restraint and consideration. Something besides one unpleasant, almost clinical evening in which he'd had Harry only because he'd forced him magically, if not physically. No matter that Harry had consented. Had begged Severus to do it, actually. The memory was still one he tried not to think about.
He'd feel better after seeing Renard . . . though now even that sounded like it might be in some doubt.. "I'm sure your lesson today will go well," he said smoothly.
"Ha. Wish I could just cancel the whole thing."
Concern became something more like mild alarm. "You aren't going to do that."
Harry glanced up. "No, of course not. It'd be too much like skiving off classes. Staff are supposed to be more dependable. I have to act like I'm a teacher now, you know?" He made a face. "Guess I'd better finish eating so I can use the morning to figure out how to run things better, this week."
Severus breathed a sigh of relief. For one moment there, he'd suspected that Harry might ask to do something with Severus, instead. That would normally be a very good thing, of course, but not today. Definitely, not today. They had tentatively agreed, in any case, that they would spend next weekend together, even taking a short trip abroad.
And after a good session with Renard, Severus would be able to keep his hands to himself when he was with Harry in Paris or Rome or Cologne.
"Yes, you don't want to seem indecisive or weak to the students," said Severus, nodding to show that he entirely agreed. "Quite likely, it's more important for you than for any of the other staff, since you're so young and already acquainted with so many of the students."
Harry's lips twisted like he was trying not to smile. "Yeah, I know. You could get away with cancelling something, I bet. But if I do, the students'll right away think I don't know what I'm doing, or something."
"Give it a few years, and you'll develop enough of a reputation that you'll have more latitude, as well."
"Ha. If I don't learn to teach more to the left, Bryerson'll probably say my contract should be cancelled," grumbled Harry.
"I think you know how secure your job is," said Severus dryly. "However, I would recommend you try to satisfy Bryerson's requirements."
"Easier said than done."
Harry sounded so odd that Severus lifted an eyebrow. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing really--" Harry suddenly gasped and rubbed a palm to his temple. "God damn it, I hate these headaches!"
Severus hadn't missed the answering sensation of the mind bond alerting him to a lie. Even without Harry's telltale reaction, he would have known. "If you hate them so much, don't lie to me."
"You make it sound like I make stuff up all the time! Thanks!"
Actually, Severus had thought it remarkable that this aspect of the bond wasn't flaring a good deal more often. He'd long supposed Harry Potter a habitual liar, but the past summer had forced him to admit that the conviction had been a mistake on his part. Harry hadn't lied once since that awful night when Severus had learned about the rape. "You're usually very honest," he admitted in a level tone. "And so this must be something important. What is the problem, then?"
"Noth--" Harry visibly gulped. "I just mean, I'd rather handle it myself. All right?"
Severus considered Harry for a long moment. He could force him to talk, he knew. But Harry was an adult, and worthy of more respect than that, for all he was Severus' slave. "All right."
Harry relaxed a little, blowing out his breath as though he'd been holding it. "I'll go upstairs and figure out how to make the clinic work better, this week. Maybe I should section off parts of the pitch, or . . ." He got up, but on the way out of the room, paused to turn back. "Have a good day, Severus."
Severus could feel his lips curling upwards. "Oh, I shall."
Saturday, October 16, 1998 ---- 9:45 a.m.
Harry started slightly when he heard a knock on his door. He didn't get many visitors, though once when he'd heard a knock he'd had to rush up from the dungeons so that he could let McGonagall into the upstairs rooms. She'd offered him a little lion emblem to pin onto teaching robes. Harry appreciated that, but of course he'd refused. As sorry as he was to disappoint her, he knew he had to rely on Severus for all his needs and wants. Not that he'd really wanted it. If he were head of Gryffindor, maybe. But as it was, he thought it wouldn't do him any good to emphasize his house affiliation. The other three houses were bound to think him biased even without that.
A few other teachers had also come by to welcome him, back when term had just started, but since then, nobody much had visited.
Bemused, Harry got up to answer the door. He was more than a little surprised when it swung open to reveal Dumbledore. He saw the man at meals sometimes, and spoke with him in passing occasionally, but the headmaster wasn't in the habit of seeking him out. He seemed to believe he needed to leave Harry and Severus alone to work their own way through things. Which was probably a good idea, actually.
But he was here now.
"Come in," Harry said, suddenly feeling nervous.
Dumbledore walked in calmly, the floppy hat on his head wiggling. When he reached the centre of the sitting room, he turned around once as though to survey it. A slight frown wrinkled his forehead. "This room looks exactly the same as it did the last time I was here, Harry."
Harry blinked. "I guess, yeah."
The old man's voice sounded very gentle. "I'm certain you can put your own stamp on it."
"I have," said Harry, feeling defensive by then. "It's just that the miniature Venice I had in here got moved to the bed so I could use the table to draw some Quidditch diagrams." He gestured toward them, a little irritated by the whole conversation. Severus wasn't treating him badly, not at all, and for Dumbledore to assume otherwise . . . even now, he didn't look terribly reassured, Harry thought, frowning.
"Ah, Quidditch." The wrinkles across Dumbledore's forehead became more pronounced. "The reason I came, actually. I've a favour to ask."
That made Harry's thoughts screech to a halt. He hoped what he'd been thinking hadn't shown too much on his face. Severus still told him that he gave a lot away with his expressions. Trying to counter that, Harry strove for a thoroughly professional tone. "Of course, Headmaster. What can I do for you?"
"You sound like Severus."
Harry met the headmaster's gaze. "Well, I do spend a lot of time with him, you know."
Dumbledore nodded, the motion suddenly brisk. "Yes, of course. At any rate, I came here to ask if you'd reconsider chaperoning today's Hogsmeade trip. I know you preferred not to, but Professor Flitwick has fallen suddenly ill."
Harry could feel his eyes practically light up. Yes, he'd rather go into Hogsmeade than run another disaster of a Quidditch clinic. And with an excuse like this to cancel, he wouldn't run any risk of seeming irresponsible to the students. Dumbledore asked me to help supervise the Hogsmeade visit instead . . .
It was perfect. "Oh, sure," said Harry, nodding. "I'll find the team captains and let them know that our extra practice will have to be cancelled."
Dumbledore smiled at him. "Excellent. Hagrid and Professor Bryerson will be happy to have you along, I'm sure."
Harry's good mood sank just a little. Time with Hagrid sounded good, but he really didn't want to listen to more of Bryerson's you-need-to-improve-your-teaching lectures. But there was no reason he had to stick by Bryerson much, was there?
"The students are assembled and almost ready to leave, so--"
Harry caught the hint. "I'll just pop down to the dungeons and let Severus know where I'll be," he said as the headmaster turned to go.
But Severus wasn't anywhere to be found.
Shrugging, Harry went back upstairs and then wound his way down to the front doors of the castle. He soon found the team captains to let them know the change of plan, and then set off with the others who were making their way to Hogsmeade.
Saturday, October 16, 1998 ---- 10:08 a.m.
"It's good to see you outside of work for once, Potter," said Bryerson amiably, coming up beside Harry as they strolled down the path.
Harry would rather have walked with just Hagrid, but Bryerson obviously wanted to join them and there was really no way to refuse. "This is work, though."
"A bit more social than a typical lesson, I'd say." As if sensing Harry's unease around him, the man turned to Hagrid and asked him if the flobberworms had recovered from that nasty bout of squirming sickness.
Harry could have joined in, but he thought Bryerson might steer the conversation around to Defence. Perhaps even to some strategies Harry could use with the first-years. Harry didn't need to spend his day off thinking about the likes of Charles Bole.
Good thing first-years aren't allowed to go into Hogsmeade, thought Harry, walking ahead a bit. Got him away from Bryerson, at least. That was all right until he realised that the girl in front of him was none other than Ginny Weasley. He saw her at Quidditch practices, of course, but he made sure that they were never alone. It wasn't that he thought she'd kiss him again. Actually, he was sure that she wouldn't.
No, the problem now was that Harry was fairly certain she knew everything. Sometimes he caught her looking at him. Not with longing, like before. Now, her expression was filled with compassion. Pity, even. Her family had filled her in, and she obviously knew that Harry was enslaved. Forever unable to choose for himself what he wanted out of life, or even whom he wanted.
She probably even knows I'm bound to Snape, Harry thought, slowing his steps.
Too late, though. Ginny glanced back as though she'd heard something. On seeing Harry, her expression at once filled with sorrow, but she quickly masked it as she stopped walking long enough to let him catch up to her.
Short of being overtly rude, Harry had no choice but to walk with her the rest of the way into the village.
"So, the Quidditch clinic was cancelled, eh?"
Harry shrugged. "Probably shouldn't have scheduled one during a Hogsmeade trip, anyway."
"Well, at least this way you get to enjoy an outing."
I've had plenty of outings with Severus, Harry wanted to say. What was it with everyone? First Dumbledore had acted like Harry was afraid to make himself at home where he lived, and now Ginny was implying that he was never allowed out, or something. It was ridiculous. Did they really think so little of Severus?
You used to, his conscience reminded him.
"I've actually had a lot of outings lately," Harry said, feeling a little bit smug about it. Nobody else was anywhere near them, so he went on to detail. "Over the summer I went abroad a few times."
Ginny glanced at him. "Oh, with . . . er . . ."
"He took me, yeah."
She gave him a tentative smile, the expression uneasy. Worried, even. "I've wanted to talk to you about that, Harry--"
"No offence, but I don't really want to talk about it."
"No, no, I meant . . ." Ginny seemed to swallow. "I didn't know. I'd never have put you in the position I did, back at that party last year, if I'd known you had to . . . er, if I'd known, that's all." She blew out a breath that made a strand of hair fly up. "It's just, I was so sure that we were meant to be together."
Harry tried for his gentlest voice. "We aren't fated, Ginny. We never were."
"Well, that's pretty clear by now." Ginny shook her head as though trying to get away from that subject. "So, what about you, Harry? Are you liking your job?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Sounds more like not much."
"Things lately have been a little tricky. I think two teams at once, for scrimmages, is the most I should work with."
"That clinic last week was a bit . . . yeah. What about Defence?"
"All right, I suppose."
"You suppose? It's always been your favourite subject!"
"Teaching's a little more difficult than I would have thought."
At that, Ginny turned and stared at him. "You were brilliant in D.A!"
"It's not the same." Harry decided it wouldn't do any harm to go into details. "D.A. was nothing but practicals. I didn't have to mark loads of essays every week."
"There is that." Ginny's smile turned wistful. "I was hoping you'd assist in my year."
Harry didn't want to tell her that she was the reason he'd asked to help with the lower forms. "I was a little worried you'd all treat me like a mate, you know?"
They walked on in silence after that, until Ginny suddenly turned to him, her cheeks a little bit flushed. "Are you all right, then? With . . . well, you know. Ron said you didn't seem too upset, considering, and that . . . er, he was looking out for you and being more or less a decent sort about things, and--"
Harry had to cut her off. "He's all right, but I really can't talk much about it. I mean, that's our personal business, Ginny."
"I just needed to hear you say it," Ginny murmured, grimacing a little. "I can sympathise more than you think, Harry. Mum's a bit mad on the subject of marriages." She lowered her voice. "Bill's head over heels for Fleur, you know, but Mum thinks she should have free rein to pick him a bride."
Harry remembered discussing all this with Severus, but before he could change the subject, Ginny was speaking again. "I'm lucky that Dad's not so set on arranged marriages. Every so often I think about what might happen if I didn't have him on my side. Gives me nightmares, it does. So . . . I understand how awful it might be, not getting to choose for yourself."
Harry thought back then, to the time he and Severus had discussed wizarding customs like arranged marriages. Severus had admitted that he'd expected one, himself. That his grandfather would have insisted, had he lived. That his mother had thought the idea a sound one after her love match with Tobias Snape had ended badly.
Severus had said he'd never expected to choose for himself whom he'd marry, anyway. And what had he meant by that, really? That having Harry be bound to him wasn't such an imposition . . . that it was almost like--
Huh, thought Harry, almost doing a double-take. Severus sounded sort of like he looked on Cambiare Podentes almost like one of those arranged marriages he was talking about.
They were almost in Hogsmeade by then, and Harry didn't want to talk about arranged marriages any longer. Or at least, not with Ginny. He waved to indicate Hagrid and Bryerson, who were approaching by then. "I, uh, should really get back my colleagues, you know?"
Ginny's nodded, her eyes shadowed as she watched him leave.