Part III

With the rest of the students, Harry took the train to King's Cross Station and had been met by several members of the Order, who once again gave specific instructions to the Dursleys about his treatment. They had looked perfectly horrified, but had nodded. No doubt telling themselves that this would be the last time they were required to put up with the mortification. 

The first week hadn't been that bad. The Dursleys' new policy was to ignore him completely, which suited Harry just fine. He roamed the streets during the day, exchanged notes by owl mail with Hermione and Ron, and of course, Snape. Writing to him helped, even if he didn't say much. It simply wasn't possible to put what he was feeling into words.

The second week was harder. He missed Snape much more than he'd expected. He stayed close to the house and found it harder to write to him. He did mange a few notes to Ron, but he couldn't tell him the problem.

By the third week, he couldn't bring himself to leave the house. Most of his time was spent upstairs in his room, waiting for the next meal. Nothing had been required of him, and he had no trouble complying. 

His contact with the Dursleys was almost nonexistent. Dudley had left to visit a friend and would be gone for a few weeks. Vernon worked and Petunia had nothing to say to him. He had nothing to say to any of them. At some point even going down to meals became too much of an effort.

When he'd missed three meals in a row, Petunia brought up a tray and stood over him until he ate most of it. There was a bit of weird irony in the whole episode considering how many meals he'd been deprived when growing up. She was afraid of what the Order might do if they thought she was starving him. The ache in his chest was so bad he couldn't muster much sympathy one way or another.

By the middle of the fourth week, Harry spent most of the day sitting with his legs drawn up on his bed. He'd stopped writing to everyone several days previously. The need to see Snape was no longer an ache, but a full-fledged pain that stayed with him even when he was asleep. It could kill him, he knew that, but he didn't know what to do about it, couldn't find the energy to do something even if he could think of it. He was paralyzed by the need and his own fear. 

The door opened without a knock. He looked up as Petunia came in. "There's someone from that school here to see you." Her tone said she was totally horrified that anyone from Hogwarts would dare darken her door.

His pulse picked up a beat, a sliver of hope edged into his heart. Saying nothing, he simply nodded to her. She took a hard look at him, and then stepped aside, leaving the door open. 

There was a sound of steps, and Snape stood in the doorway.

Harry could feel his eyes widen, almost as if he could get more of the sight of him in. God, he looked so good, standing there, dressed in Muggle clothes that fit very well. Dark grey trousers showed off his slim hips and long legs, a white shirt that stretched across his chest, and shiny black leather shoes. His hair was still lank and hung around his face, but to Harry he looked beautiful. 

Every instinct Harry owned urged him to move across the room, to touch what had been lost to him. He hesitated, looking at Snape, waiting for some sign that what he'd been feeling was reciprocal.

Coming farther into room, and closing the door, Snape met his gaze. The battle was plain to see, and even as he watched, he saw Snape close his eyes and give in. Harry was across the room, in Snape's arms before he'd finished raising them. 

"Mr. Potter," Snape said into his hair and it sounded like a sigh of relief.

"We're not at school. Can't you call me Harry?" The pain in his heart started to ease, and the relief made his knees weak. 

"No." Snape's arms tightened, clutching him against his chest. "No. It would not be right. Don't ask that of me, not yet."

"You know what's coming though, don't you?" Harry knew it was pretty much inevitable now. It would be okay, he knew that too.

"Come what may, we shall meet it at that time. I would not hurry it along." Snape pulled back to look down into his face. "Nothing, nothing before you leave school."

"Another whole year." Harry pressed his face into Snape's shoulder again and felt the contentment wash over him.

"You're not ready for anything of that sort yet, anyway. Give yourself some time." The sound of Snape's voice soothed something inside him. 

"What about you?" Harry nudged his leg closer to Snape. No mistaking what he was feeling against his thigh. "Can you wait?"

Snape said nothing, and stepped back. 

"I'm sorry. Please don't move." Harry heard the panic in his voice and didn't care. It was too soon to let go. "Please. I'm just starting to feel better."

Enfolded again in Snape's embrace, Harry closed his eyes and let Snape's scent sluiced comfortingly over him.

"When I touch you, it eases the pain?" Snape's hands moved slowly down his back. "How bad were you? I started to feel your distress these past few days, but before that, I didn't feel anything."

"Touching you does help. I didn't think that was part of bond." Harry trembled, even as the memory of the pain made him feel weak. "It was pretty bad before you got here, today, but it's better now." 

"Clearly this is some aspect of it that wasn't documented." Snape's hands stilled on his back, drawing him closer. "Silly boy. If you were in pain, you should have contacted me."

"I wasn't sure I should. And then, I couldn't seem to do anything." God, he hated the needy sound in his voice, but the thought of Snape leaving without him was so much worse. "Are you going to take me back with you?"

"You should be here at least until after your birthday."

Disappointment washed over him. "I--"

"However, I've got the Headmaster's permission to take you to Snape Manor for a few days." Snape sounded pleased with himself, which was fine by Harry.

The relief was nearly overwhelming, and he pressed his face further into Snape's shoulder. His voice was muffled as he asked, "You have a manor house? Like the Malfoys."

"I don't imagine it's nearly so grand." Snape's nose touched his hair again and he heard an indrawn breath. "Nor in such good repair, I'm sure."

"You've never been to Malfoy Manor?" Why he found that so surprising, Harry wasn't sure. Perhaps he'd just assumed that the elder Malfoy and Snape had been close.

"Not in many years. Why?"

"I had this idea that you and he were..." Harry trailed off embarrassed by the assumption he had no evidence in making.

"He is completely loyal to Voldemort. What idea did you have?" Snape pulled back again to look at him, incredulously. "That he and I?"

"Well...." Harry blushed. He and Hermione and Ron had gossiped about that possibility after second year when they'd seen Snape with Malfoy Sr. at the Quidditch game. 

"You impertinent child," Snape said. A great deal of affection permeated his tone and Harry could not mistake the words for anything other than what they were. "As far as I know, Lucius is completely straight, nearly to the point of being straight- laced."

"And you?" Harry wondered at his own audacity.

"I?" Snape seemed momentarily reluctant to answer, but then he shrugged and met Harry's eyes. "I have always taken my comfort where I could find it."

That seemed unaccountably sad to Harry. "Why?"

Snape actually smiled at him. "Because when you look as I do, and you don't always wish to be alone, you take what is offered."

"You don't--" Harry was cut off by Snape's finger touching his mouth.

"You are hardly in a position to judge that any longer," Snape said, his voice more gentle than Harry believed possible.

Laying his head back on Snape's shoulder, Harry nodded. "I guess not. When do we go?"

"As soon as you can pack."

"Can I use magic?" Harry asked hopefully. 

"No." Both the look that Snape gave him and his tone were categorically negative.

Harry knew better than to even try to answer that. "Then give me twenty minutes."

"I, however, am not bound by the same rules." Snape took out his wand. "What do you wish to take with you?"

"I'm not coming back, am I?" Harry's heart lightened at the thought. To be finally quit of the Dursleys was a much-cherished dream. "Just my trunk, Hedwig's cage--"

"And your owl?"

"When I started to feel badly, I sent her off to the Burrow to wait for me there."

"Instead of sending her to me?" He gently pulled on a lock of Harry's hair. "Which might have done you some good, if you'd bothered to think at all."

Harry hid his face against Snape's shirt. "I honestly didn't think it would matter."

Snape sighed long-sufferingly. "What else?" 

He moved out of Snape's arms to kneel by the bed. Pulling up the floorboard to look in his hiding place, he felt around. 

There were a few items from his childhood that he wished to have. Tokens to remind him of his life here, should he ever become nostalgic for this place. Not that he thought it would happen, but just in case. He took out a few broken pieces of toys, things he had received broken, or that Dudley had broken for him and put them into a pile with his school books and supplies.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he compressed it all into a one inch by one inch cube and handed it to Harry. 

"You know, since you are of age, should take your Apparation test."

"I know. I was hoping to do that when I visit Ron at the Burrow the end of the summer." Harry looked at him as he slipped the cube into his pocket. "Is that going to be okay with you?" 

Snape was giving him the strangest look. "What?" Harry asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Not exactly. I'm just not sure I'm comfortable with you asking me permission like that."

"Why not?"

Snape stopped before he closed the door and turned back. "At some point, we'll need to establish a more equal relationship."

That was very reasonable. The idea of Snape always being in charge bothered him, but some part of him admitted, at least to himself, that it wouldn't be so bad to have someone care enough to tell him what to do. "That can't happen while I'm in school, can it?"

"No." Snape opened the door. "Let's go."

Harry started down the stairs. "If you're not going to call me Harry, I guess I can't call you Severus, yet, can I?"

He heard Snape miss a step and grunt. "No. That would not be appropriate at all."

"Too bad. I'd like to call you Severus."

"Impertinent brat."

"Yeah, that would be me."

At the bottom of the stairs, Vernon and Petunia waited. They watched in silence as Harry walked to the front door. He turned back to look at them, seeing them for the miserable people they were and all of his much-thought-about blistering parting remarks left him.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Vernon asked, his tone infused with impotent rage. There was nothing more that he could do and they both knew it.

"No. I don't think so." Harry felt nothing as he turned away. Nothing at all. He wondered if there was something wrong with him that he couldn't even feel compassion for them. Turning back, he summoned a small smile. "Bye."

He walked through the door into the sunshine. 

Anti-climatic to be sure, but they had to keep living that life, and he didn't. All in all, that made up for a lot.

"Well done, Mr. Potter." Snape was smiling at him, he started to reach out again, and then looked around. "We should go."

"Do you have a car or something?"

"Or something." Snape motioned him to follow him between the Dursleys' house and the neighbor on the right. He pulled a little trophy out of his pocket. "Take one end."

"Yes, sir." He did as he was told and felt the familiar pull behind his navel. 

*****