Part X

"Are you sure you don't want to come to dinner with us, Harry?" Hermione asked. She and Ron were standing on a street corner in Hogsmeade.

"No. I think I'd be a bit out of place on your date." Harry laughed and then yawned. "I'm very tired. I'm just going to go back to school and take a nap."

"In the middle of the day?" Hermione looked scandalized. 

"I haven't been sleeping that well." On the nights he spent in his own bed, which was about every third night, he never slept well.

"Have you seen Madam Pomfrey about it?" Hermione asked in that proprietary tone she had.

"No." Harry shook his head. "It's not something she can fix."

Both she and Ron nodded. Their expressions said they knew what it was about and wouldn't ask, for which Harry was grateful. After what had happened two months ago, he and Snape tried to maintain some sense of propriety. What amazed him the most was that no one noticed that he'd not been in his dorm bed for all those months, and now no one noticed that he was there once in a while now.

"Well..." Ron was trying to look like he wanted Harry to stay, and at the same time, it was more than clear he wanted to be alone with Hermione.

"Go. I'm going to go to Honeydukes and then go back to school. I"ll see you later." He knocked his shoulder into Ron's and smiled at Hermione.

"Be careful," Ron admonished as both he and Hermione walked away.

Harry watched them move closer. Ron took Hermione's hand. 

It wasn't as if either of them were someone he wanted to be with like that. It wasn't as if he didn't have his own entanglement. It wasn't even that he thought they might stop being friends with him. To be truthful, he had no idea what it was, but something about seeing them together like that left him feeling empty inside.

Changing course in mid-step, Harry decided to go back to school and skip the confectioner's shop. He wasn't in the mood for sweets after all. He kicked a rock along the street.

It was quiet. Too quiet. He looked up and found himself alone on the path back to Hogwarts. That was odd, wasn't it? 

Immediately alert, he peered into suddenly growing gloom, the clouds seemed thick and the fog started to roll in. It seemed more like dusk than mid-afternoon. All he felt was a vague sense of unease, nothing he could put his finger on. He glanced around again. Nothing. Trying to shrug it off, he moved a little quicker. Strange that there was no one around now. Shouldn't at least a few students be heading back to school?

A movement caught his eyes, right at the edge of his peripheral vision. He turned round sharply, but before he could make out anything, the world went black.

*****

Snape sat upright at his desk, his pulse pounding hard in his veins, panic encroaching; Potter was in trouble. His fear was more than just knowledge; it was a living thing in Snape. He dropped the book he'd been reading, but before he got to the door, the fear had vanished and Snape knew Potter had been knocked out.

Concentrating hard, he sensed that Potter was being moved, quickly. He needed to follow. Reaching for a quill and parchment, he would leave a note for Dumbledore on his way out of the school. As he made his way up towards the main entrance, his arm started to burn. "Damn," he cursed softly. Now he'd have to see Dumbledore and explain.

"Bertie Botts," Snape said to the Gargoyle in front of the stairs. The doors parted, and he rode to the top. Dumbledore opened the door before he got to the last stair.

"Severus?" Dumbledore looked old, right then. "What's wrong?"

"Potter. I believe he's been taken against his will." He looked at Dumbledore and watched his face go pale. "I am able to track him. However, as bad luck would have it, I've been summoned."

"We can only assume that Voldemort has him."

"I concur." His arm pulsed again and he put his hand on it as if that might stop the pain. "Put a tracking spell on me, and follow me as quickly as you can."

Dumbledore nodded. "I shall need time to summon the Order."

"I do not believe Potter and I have such time. I must go."

Dumbledore raised his wand, and muttered a few words. He could feel the spell sink into him. Without another word, he headed back down the stairs, and through the gates. Once clear, he Apparated to Hogsmeade and, in a back alley, found the portkey that would take him to the Dark Lord. Merlin, how he hated this.

He was met at the portkey site -- a nearly Muggle looking establishment -- by Lucius Malfoy, looking a bit too pleased with himself. Snape wished he'd stayed the hell in prison where he belonged.

"Malfoy." Snape nodded to him, nothing beyond cordial. "What's going on?"

Lucius smiled. "You'll see. Our Lord has a surprise for you."

"I'll just bet." Snape slipped his mask over his face as he followed him into the shop. They made their way to the back, where a warded door led to a room that was bigger than the establishment should have allowed. There were several doors leading off in various directions. Voldemort sat on a carved wooden chair on a raised dias. 

No symbolism there, Snape thought with a mental smirk. "My Lord," Snape said as he knelt and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. Remaining on his knees, he looked up, waiting for Voldemort to speak to him. He knew better than to speak without leave or to look at anything other than Voldemort.

"Ah, Severus." Voldemort turned his ugly pale eyes on him. "I have a surprise for you."

"I'm honored." Snape put his hand over his heart and bowed. Not so easily or gracefully done on his knees, but he managed well enough. Again, he waited for Voldemort to speak.

"Bring him in," Voldemort said, nodding to Lucius and two other Death Eaters standing at his side. "Now."

They opened one of the doors leading into the room and pulled a still struggling Potter in. He was gagged, his hands were tied behind his back, right eye was blackened, and his lip was split. Snape had never been so glad for his mask as he was in that moment, fearing that he'd never be able to hide his outrage. Taking a slow, deep breath, he forced his anger and fear aside. That Potter still had enough energy to fight them relieved Snape's mind slightly.

Now, all he had to do now was keep him alive until Dumbledore arrived.

"I know how you feel about our notorious Boy-Who-Lived," Voldemort said, standing as Potter was forced to his knees in front of him. "I'm going to let you kill him."

Stall for time, was Snape's first and overriding thought. "I'd hate to simply kill the brat. Surely, you will be kind and allow me to play with him a bit first?

Voldemort gave him a sly look and then chuckled. "Why Severus, I knew I could count on you to entertain us."

Snape looked up at him and inclined his head politely. "Yes, my lord."

"You may do as you please," Voldemort said, waving his hand towards Potter.

Standing, Snape drew his wand, and silently apologizing for what he had to do. "Crucio."

Potter fell to the ground and started to scream.

Standing over him, Snape wondered if there was a way to lessen the spell. He stopped it and Potter panted. "Enjoying yourself, Potter?" Snape sneered, his tone filled with hatred.

"Bastard. Why don't you just kill me?" Potter's breath came in painful pants as he looked up at Snape.

"I think I'll enjoy watching you scream a great deal more. Will you beg for mercy, I wonder?" His voice held a sneer, and audible hatred. Behind his mask he grimaced, and said, "Crucio."

Watching Potter convulse and cry out, Snape's heart felt pulverized, and sweat prickled unpleasantly down his back. The movements changed very slightly, and something didn't feel quite right with it. Snape couldn't put his finger on what it was, until he felt Potter's touch in his mind.

//I'm blocking most of the pain out,// Potter said. //I think I can break the bonds on my hands.//

For a moment, Snape faltered as Potter spoke directly into his mind, but he gripped his wand tighter, and continued to cast the curse.

//Hold on. Dumbledore will be here soon.// Snape sent back.

//I have an idea. Follow my lead.// 

As if Snape could do anything else in this situation.

Potter moved suddenly on the floor, throwing himself onto his back, screaming louder, as if suddenly in more pain. As he twisted, the ropes binding him fell away.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters laughed, clearly enjoying the show.

With no hint of what he was planning, Potter completely deflected the curse and stood. Before anyone could react to that, he grabbed Snape's wrist, turning his wand on Voldemort. Snape felt Potter push a staggering amount of power through him and shout, "Avada Kedavra," at Voldemort. The blinding green light shot out of his wand, and slammed into a stunned Voldemort, killing him, his mouth still open with shock.

"Combustus!" Harry roared. Flames consumed Voldemort's body and in seconds he was reduced to a fine gray dust. Then in slow motion all the other Death Eaters seemed to come alive. Harry turned towards them, and shouted "Petrificus Totalus," still gripping Snape's wrist, holding his wand, moving it in an arc to catch as many with the spell as he could.

Three of the Death Eaters standing around them fell, arms and legs stiffly at their sides.

Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, and several others of the Order that Snape was too far gone to identify, burst into the room just as Lucius raised his wand to hex them.

Snape felt as if he were being burned up from so much power rushing through him. He could also feel Harry weakening. The bond screamed as too much energy was channeled through it. Finally, it was too much, and he couldn't hold onto consciousness anymore. Blackness took him.

*****

Even as Harry floated in a world with no pain, he knew something wasn't quite right. He'd have to wake up to find out what it was, and he was just uncomfortable enough to consider it.

"Harry," a voice penetrated his fog. "Come on, now. It's time to wake up."

He knew that voice, knew it wasn't the one he wanted it to be, knew it wasn't the one it was supposed to be. Nonetheless, it was one he had to obey.

Taking a deep breath, Harry forced open his eyes, and then winced, wishing he hadn't. The room was too bright. It had been afternoon when he'd been taken... was it yesterday? Now it seemed like a sunny morning.

"Harry," Dumbledore's soft voice penetrated his confusion. "You're safe. You've defeated Voldemort."

That was good. He remembered the power surging through him, through Snape, and through their bond. The bond. That was the problem. Tentatively, he reached for it and found it... fragile. 

It wasn't supposed to be like that. A faint shiver of worry slid down Harry's spine. "Snape?" Harry's voice was raspy, and dry. "The bond."

"Professor Snape has not regained consciousness yet, but Madame Pomfrey tells us that he will be fine." Dumbledore did not sound like he actually believed that. "What about the bond?"

"It feel like it might be... breaking." That wasn't exactly true, but there weren't words for what he felt. "Like it's going to break."

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him, but his eyes were curiously flat. "The bond can't break. It's a blood-bond. It's simply not possible to break it."

"But it feels--"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Let me summon Madam Pomfrey. She wanted to be notified when you were awake anyway."

"Sir," Harry said. "Aside from the fact that she knows the bond exists, I don't think she knows anything else about it."

"Perhaps not, but she does know about you." With that, Dumbledore moved away, returning a moment later with Pomfrey.

She held her wand over him and clucked. "You'll be just fine. You're drained magically, but you should be fine with a day or two of rest."

"Here?"

"Well," she said as she glanced over at something behind him. "Professor Snape is here, as well."

Harry started to turn over to look, and Dumbledore reached out to help him. "Thanks," Harry said as he settled on his side, facing Snape. Something eased inside him, but not enough for him to completely relax. He desperately needed to touch Snape. His mind turned toward the bond, and then backed off without touching it. It was disconcerting to find his link to Snape so weak.

Turning onto his back, Harry stared up at the ceiling, then looked back at Dumbledore. "How long has it been, sir?"

"Two days." Dumbledore looked like he'd been here the whole time. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"You don't know?"

"When we arrived, Voldemort was dead and most of the Death Eaters were under Petrificus Totalus, beyond that, no. Both you and Professor Snape were unconscious."

Closing his eyes, Harry let out a sigh and began telling Dumbledore the bare facts of what had happened, and then he looked up and smiled. "We made the power sharing work."

Dumbledore smiled back, looking pleased with him. "I did think you must have."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Harry asked.

"No one was hurt aside from you and Professor Snape. Not even the Death Eaters."

"Good." Harry was relieved that no one else has been hurt. It didn't make him feel any better about the bond or Snape, though. "What about Snape?"

"As I said, Professor Snape should be fine." Pomfrey said as she straightened his sheet. "If you need me for anything, I shall be in my office."

"Thank you," Harry said as she left the ward. "I can barely feel him."

"Your awareness might be so low because he's unconscious. It will return in time."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't be, but I believe it is so. Why don't I let you sleep now?" Dumbledore patted his shoulder. "I expect during lunch you'll have many visitors. You're quite the hero, you and Professor Snape."

"Not too many, please." Harry looked at him beseechingly and Dumbledore smiled and nodded. 

He didn't want to be a hero and he especially didn't want to see anyone right now. "Thanks."

Dumbledore left quietly, and Harry reached out to touch the bond again, tracing it to Snape gently, afraid that if he put too much pressure on it, it would break entirely. His chest felt tight with unease. He hadn't wanted the bond, but now he could not imagine living without it.

Despite the tentativeness of the bond, he could feel Snape's jumbled sleeping emotions through the bond, and he found that oddly comforting. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

*****

It felt like he'd been asleep for only a few moments, when Ron and Hermione came in. "Harry," Ron said, his voice bright with happiness. "How are you doing, mate?"

"I'm asleep." Harry turned over to face them, reaching out for the bond. It was still there, still too weak. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. 

"No, you're not. I can see your eyes open." Ron beamed at him, his eyes sparkling.

That smile was too infectious not to return. Even if he were not in the mood for seeing anyone, Harry couldn't help smiling back. "Never could get much by you, could I, mate."

"How do you feel?" Hermione asked, looking more concerned than Ron, but pleased with him, too. "Are you okay? I mean...you've been out for two days."

The longer he was awake, the more he wanted to move closer to Snape. He couldn't concentrate on what Ron and Hermione were saying. "I'm only tired."

"I'll bet." Ron grinned again, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You truly did great, Harry. You killed him."

"I didn't have much choice, did I?" Harry sighed. He hated the idea that he'd had to kill anyone. There was something wrong about how overjoyed everyone was that he'd had to kill someone, even if that someone needed to die. "What has been happening?"

"Well, you're a hero, like usual," Ron said. Clearly he thought this was a good thing. "There's going to be a feast when you and Snape are better." Ron's smile finally faded as he looked over at the other bed and then away.

Hermione followed Ron's gaze and then looked back at Harry. "How is he doing?" 

"He hasn't woken up yet." He could hear the worry in his own voice, and knew his friends could hear it, too. As he said it, he couldn't help but touch the bond again.

"Why? Is something wrong? What did Madame Pomfrey say?" Hermione actually seemed concerned about Snape, which surprised Harry.

"I didn't think you cared about him, either of you." Maybe that wasn't fair either. They had both been supportive of him. Harry looked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I mean, he is a greasy git, but we know that you care for him," Ron said, and Hermione nodded.

"Thanks." Touched by their concern, Harry tried to smile at them, but found that his emotions were drained as his body and his magic. "I think I need to sleep now." 

"Are you okay?" Hermione seemed about to say something else, but she didn't. "I mean... with everything that happened."

Harry nodded and yawned. "I'm fine. Really. I just need more sleep."

"We'll see you after dinner." Ron and Hermione went out together, both stopping at the door to look back at him. He waved them off. 

He hadn't meant to get rid of them like that, but he wanted a minute to think before he went back to sleep. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he considered Snape on other bed. They would be more comfortable touching, he knew it in his bones. 

Getting there was the issue. It was only a few steps, but as weak and exhausted as he felt, Harry wondered if he could even stand long enough to move across the distance. It would be worth it if he could, he decided, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Putting both hands flat on the bed, he pushed himself up, and his knees started to give way, immediately. He sat back down, taking several breaths. 

There was no pain, only a strange weakness, like all of his energy had been siphoned out of him and he was left with the very dregs. The craving to be near Snape was all consuming. He didn't want to ignore it.

With another breath, he pushed himself up again. This time, he locked his knees and they held. Managing a step, he had to stop and stand perfectly still while sweat broke out on his body. Breathing in deeply, he took another step. Almost there, he told himself as he took a third step, and could put his hand on Snape's bed. Easing himself into a sitting position, he wiped the sweat from his face. He could not remember ever being so exhausted. 

Slowly, he lowered himself next to Snape, putting an arm around his waist, and nuzzling his face into Snape's neck. With a sigh of pure relief, Harry fell asleep. 

*****

Feeling safer and warmer than he had in many years, Snape woke to the sound of murmuring voices above his bed. He snuggled back into the arms holding him, and tried to figure out why this didn't feel quite right. 

"How exactly did Mr. Potter end up in Professor's Snape's bed?" A voice that Snape vaguely identified as McGonagall's asked in a half-shocked, half-amused tone. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm not sure there is anything I can do, at least until they wake up," Dumbledore's unmistakably amused voice said.

"Will you both keep it down," Snape snarled, turning over onto his back and dislodging Potter from his position wrapped around him. "Let the boy sleep."

Grunting an objection, Potter shifted and then settled more comfortably against him again, his head resting on Snape's chest. He didn't wake. Snape slipped an arm around him, holding him loosely.

"He isn't the one who's been unconscious for three days," McGonagall said tartly. "I'll go fetch Madame Pomfrey."

"That's a good idea, my dear." Dumbledore lowered himself into a chair beside Snape's bed. "How are you feeling, Severus?"

"Like I've been run over by a train." Doing a quick inventory of himself, Snape decided he might have overstated the issue a bit. He felt tired to his soul, like he could sleep for a week and still not catch up, but not as if he'd been hurt -- at least not physically. "Three days, did you say?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Potter?" Snape realized he was carding his fingers through Potter's already messy hair and forced himself to stop.

Dumbledore noted his movements and smiled at him. "He woke up yesterday."

"If he felt as I do, how did he make it into my bed?"

"Sheer determination," Potter said, opening his eyes and looking up at Snape. Then he turned his head and took in Dumbledore seated beside the bed. Harry blushed and reburied his head against Snape's chest.

"More like utter stupidity." Closing his eyes, Snape breathed out heavily. McGonagall returned with Pomfrey in tow. 

"Severus, it's good to see you awake," Pomfrey said with altogether too much cheer in her tone.

Snape glared at her. He was too tired for this. "I wish to return to my own bed. When am I to be set free?"

"As soon as I say." Pomfrey waved her wand over him, and then made a few humming and clucking sounds that could have meant anything. She turned to look at Dumbledore and nodded.

"What?" Snape demanded. "Is something wrong?"

"No. You're just drained. The same is true of Harry. A few days in bed will do you both a world of good." She smiled at him.

"No doubt." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"What do you last remember?" 

"Your fortuitous arrival just as Lucius was raising his wand." From the outraged look on Lucius' face, Snape had been absolutely sure one of them was going to die.

"Mr. Malfoy is back in Azkaban along with the rest of his co- conspirators." McGonagall said, with a certain amount of unsuppressed glee.

"Good to hear," Harry said from somewhere under his chin. "So, what did we miss?"

"I was just getting to that," Dumbledore said, still sounding amused. "And nothing. We showed up in time to do a bit of a mop up."

"That's it?" Harry looked back up at Dumbledore. "I mean, nothing else?"

"I'm afraid not." 

"That's so... anti-climatic." Harry sounded a bit put out. 

"Go away," Snape said as exhaustion slid down upon him again and suddenly he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. With a huge yawn, Snape put his arms around Potter, and buried his face in his messy hair. Propriety be damned, he needed to sleep.

*****

"Are you going to tell me how you managed to get yourself kidnaped?" Snape's tone was sharp enough to startle Harry.

He looked up from the book he was studying, or at least, attempting to study and shrugged. "I was just walking along."

"By yourself?" Snape sounded very angry. "What were you thinking?"

Giving Snape a baleful look, Harry felt that he shouldn't have to defend himself. He hadn't done it on purpose. "I wasn't--"

"Clearly not." Snape looked at him, disgusted. "You should have known better. You are--"

Knowing exactly what Snape was going to say, Harry cut him off before he could say it. "Were a--"

"Are," Snape paused to glare at him again. "You are going to be a target until all of the Death Eaters are rounded up and put in Azkaban."

"No one said not to go. That there might be any danger. I was just coming back--" Harry bit back a sigh.

Snarling, Snape didn't sound like he was going to listen any more to anything Harry had to say. "I don't want to hear your excuses--"

"Then why the bloody hell did you ask me?" Harry said, anger boiling up in him. "It wasn't my damned fault."

"You could have been killed, damn it all." It wasn't hard to hear the fear in Snape's voice. 

Harry tried to be understanding. "I wasn't killed. We both made it out."

"Through no common sense of your own."

"Hey, I reckon it was me that saved us both."

"I wasn't in any danger."

"You were going to have to kill me. How --" Bloody Hell. Harry looked at Snape and he looked away. 

Taking a deep breath, he sat up and put his feet over the side of the bed. After he'd fallen asleep with Snape again, Dumbledore had gently reminded him that discretion would be a good idea. So, he'd gone back to his cold bed. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape's tone had a outraged note in it as well as a dose of fear. "Do not leave that bed."

As if he had any intention of listening to Snape. Harry shot him a disgusted look as he pushed himself up. It was a relief to find he wasn't nearly as weak as he'd been yesterday when he did this. However, it still wasn't easy. Where was all his energy? Oh, yeah, he'd used it killing off the Dark Lord. He got to his feet.

"Potter, get back into that bed." Snape sat up and leaned against a couple of pillows. He looked tired and resentful.

"No." Harry made it across the short distance between them, and sat on Snape's bed with Snape glaring at him. He pushed Snape's lanker-than-usual hair out of his face. "You didn't hurt me."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Snape's darted around the infirmary, settling anywhere but back on Harry.

"About the fact you cast Cruciatus on me."

Snape drew in a deep breath and glanced down at his hands, but said nothing.

"You didn't hurt me. I was blocking it." Mostly. It hurt to start with, almost more than he could bear, but he had and got past it, too. "Once I could shield against the pain --" 

"How did you do that?" Snape put a hand over Harry's. "It's not something we ever worked on."

"I know. It was just an idea I've been thinking about." Harry nodded. "I drew strength from you, through the bond."

Snape looked up, surprised. "I didn't feel it."

"I didn't need much. Just enough to put a..." Harry paused, looking for words, "layer of magic between me and the curse."

"Once the shield was up, all I had to do was touch you to channel my magic through you. Then you could cast the killing curse." 

Snape shook his head. "I cast nothing, Mr. Potter. I was merely there. As you said earlier, you did all the work."

With a sigh, Harry turned his hand up, interlocking his fingers with Snape's. Didn't Snape realize what had actually happened? "Without you, I would not have been able to do it."

"Be that as it may. You're the hero in this story." Snape wasn't sneering, wasn't nasty. Indeed, he almost looked... well... proud.

"Thanks," Harry said, trying not to blush. Some part of him wanted to preen, but it hadn't only been him.

Clearing his throat, Snape brought his attention back to him. "I do think we need to explore how you blocked Cruciatus. I think it shall be quite useful in the future."

That was all well and good to Harry aside from the fact that, "I just did it, like I said. I used your magic to do it."

"Yes, but how exactly?" Snape paused, waiting for an answer that Harry didn't have.

Feeling foolish, Harry shrugged. "I did it without thinking of how I was doing it. I suppose this will mean more lessons."

"Do you find the idea of more lessons in controlling your magic so onerous?" Snape asked, a curious note of something Harry couldn't quite figure out in his tone.

"No." Harry turned his hand up and intertwined their fingers, his thumb stroking across Snape's palm. "I like working with you." He reached out to Snape through the bond, and felt as if it were going to give way under his mental touch. 

As he jerked back, Snape started. "What did you just do?"

"I tried to touch you, through the bond. It's very fragile. Every time I go near it, if feels like it's gong to disintegrate under my touch." He could hear the fear in his own tone, but Snape didn't seem to understand it.

The look Snape gave him said he was being stupid. "It's a blood bond, Mr. Potter. It can't break down in that manner."

Frustrated, Harry shook his head. No one seemed to get what he was saying about the bond. "Try and touch it. You'll see what I mean."

Closing his eyes, Snape seemed to be doing ask he asked, but Harry couldn't be sure because he was afraid to reach out.

"It does feel different, but not necessarily weaker." Snape's expression was speculative. "Do you think you could break it?"

An unpleasant shiver ran down Harry's spine. That was not a question he wanted to hear asked. "I thought--"

"Hypothetically speaking, you can't. However, the reality is we've pushed so much through it, that perhaps it could be broken." From the sound of Snape's voice it didn't seem like that idea was at all repugnant to him.

It was to Harry. "Would you want that?" he asked, suddenly and desperately afraid that given a choice, Snape would want to go back to the way things had been before. "I mean--"

Taking a deep breath, Snape drew back mentally and physically. "I think that if you can free yourself from this, then you should."

Shock washed over him, cold and ugly. Snape wanted him to break the bond. "What if I don't want to?"

"You are far too young to know what you want," Snape's face was completely blank, no emotions showing, no inflection. "Can you try it?"

"What about you?" Harry closed his eyes, hoping against hope that he was wrong; that Snape would want to keep the bond, keep him. "Do you want me to break the bond?"

"Yes." Snape's resolute tone was so sharp that it cut like him like a knife. 

Harry bled inside. In his whole life, no one had wanted him, no one had loved him. And then Snape had. But it hadn't been real. He should have known it wouldn't last. Snape didn't want him, hadn't ever wanted him, and would be glad to be quit of him. 

As a last resort against the pain, Harry tried to tell himself that he hadn't wanted Snape either, but the truth was that it didn't matter now, because he loved Snape. And he did want him, on every level it was possible to want.

To know he wasn't wanted, wasn't loved, cut something precious out of him. He promised himself he could live without it and knew he was lying.

With another deep breath, his eyes stinging, Harry nodded. "All right, sir. I'll try," Harry said, his voice low, not letting anything out.

Closing his eyes tightly, Harry reached inside, looking for the bond, visualizing it. It was there, leading from himself to Snape. Taking hold of it, he pulled a little, to see if it would give. It seemed to stretch, but not break. He pulled again and Snape's gasp was loud enough to penetrate his concentration. 

Looking up, he saw Snape was very pale and sweating. His breath was coming in pants. What just happened? Dumbledore came through the door at a dead run, with Madame Pomfrey close on his heels. 

"What are you doing?" Dumbledore did not exactly yell, but his voice was as strained and angry as Harry had ever heard it. 

"I was trying to break the bond, sir." Harry looked back at Snape, who was now sagging on the pillows, looking worse than he had when he'd woken up. Oh, God, what had he done? Dread washed over him. 

"Harry," Dumbledore said, looking very cross. "Why would you do that? I've told you that you couldn't break the bond, more than once."

"It's so fragile and weak. I thought I could." Harry glanced at Snape, who still seemed very pale. "Professor Snape doesn't want to be bonded to me any more." It hurt so much to say it, but somehow Harry managed to get the words out without his voice wavering once. 

"Severus," Dumbledore actually snapped. "What were you thinking?"

Dully, Snape looked up at Dumbledore and shrugged. "He said he could break it. How could I hold him? What right do I have?"

"He'll kill you in the trying, if not himself as well." Dumbledore looked at Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "Fix it."

Harry looked back up at Dumbledore, dismayed. If he'd known how to fix it in the first place, he would have rather than trying to break it further. "How?" he asked.

Seemingly very annoyed with him, Dumbledore pointed to his chest. "Go back and put your magic into it, until it's strong again."

"But--"

"Do not argue with me, Harry." Dumbledore's glare was sharp and painful. "You could have done Professor Snape serious damage."

His eyes stung worse now and he had to blink several times to clear them. How could this have gone so wrong? He looked up, blinking again. "He told me to do it."

"You don't have to listen to every foolish thing he says. You should know that." Something in Dumbledore's tone has softened a little.

"I'm lying right here, Albus. Try not to speak about me as if I weren't." Snape's raspy dry voice sounded quite irritated.

"Do be quiet and go to sleep, Severus." Dumbledore glared down at him. "Poppy, how is he?"

Madame Pomfrey had been running her wand over Snape. "He's drained even further. It will now be several more days before he can leave."

"What about Harry?"

She flicked her wand in his direction and then looked curiously at him. "Nothing. He shows no adverse effects."

Dumbledore looked at him inquiringly. "Tell me exactly what you felt when you trying to break the bond?"

Harry shook his head, not understanding anything more than he'd hurt Snape and Snape had let him. "Nothing. Let me fix it."

Without waiting for an answer, Harry reached inside and found the bond, pouring as much of his energy as he could manage into it. As he touched it, the bond became stronger, firming up and not seeming so fragile. There was still something strange about it. He could feel Snape again, now, he knew how exhausted he was, but on the whole, he was less aware of Snape through the bond now. 

He took Snape's hand, and Snape turned to look at him wanly. "I'm sorry," Harry said. "Why did you do that?"

"I already said why." Snape nodded towards Dumbledore and Pomfrey. "Now is not the time for this."

"Professor Snape needs to sleep." Madam Pomfrey, motioned him back to his own bed and she and Dumbledore went out.

*****