Part IV

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in front of a large, shabby-looking house. 

"Welcome to Snape Manor." Snape's expression was wry as he put his hand on the door and it snicked open. "I hate this place."

"Why do you keep it, then?" Harry started to move inside, but Snape had stopped.

"Because as much as I hate it, I don't want my cousins to have it. Although, I'm sure they would keep it up better." The bitterness was clear, especially as he knew Snape was letting him hear it.

"When was the last time you were here?" Harry asked, still standing poised on the threshold.

Silent for a minute, Snape shrugged. "It's been years. We should key you to the door." Snape took his hand and pressed it flat against the wood of the door. He muttered a few words and then let go. "It should open for you, now."

Closing the door, and resetting the wards, Snape stepped back and nodded. Taking his cue, Harry pressed his hand flat against the door, and it opened. 

"Very good." Snape led him in.

The walls were covered in intricately-tooled wooden paneling, and the floor was marble, but all four corners of the entry room had cobwebs at the ceiling. A dusty pedestal table sat forlornly in the middle of the room, with an ancient bowl of mummified fruit in the center.

Harry eyed a curving staircase that circled the wall of half the room. Standing below it, he could see to the third level. 

"No House Elves? Hermione will be pleased," Harry said, not bothering to hide his curiosity as he glanced around. When he thought of a manor house, he thought in terms of grand and pretentious, or at least clean. The dust was thick enough to choke him. 

"Should she ever come here." Snape led him into an equally dirty sitting room. Two brocade arm chairs sat before a large stone hearth. A sofa of indeterminate color was positioned near the two chairs with a shorter table in front of it. 

Harry had never seen a room so desperately in need of cleaning. He sneezed twice. Turning towards Snape, he gave him a baleful look. "She's my best friend. I'm assuming that since I'll be living here, she'll be visiting me. And before you ask, Ron, too. Probably all of the Weasleys." He looked around and decided he could not even sit down without ruining his clothes. He sneezed several times and looked at Snape with runny eyes. "May I?"

"May you what?" Snape looked at the room and realized what he meant. "No. You can't do magic here, either." After a moment's hesitation, Snape raised his wand, and said testily, "Oh, all right I'll do it."

"I can breathe again," Harry said as the dust disappeared. Sniffing a few more times for good measure, he smiled. "Thanks."

"About anyone visiting here, don't you think that's rather presumptuous of you, young man?" The tone was all wrong for the words, it should have been more harsh. The light in Snape's eyes also didn't help his cause. "What makes you think we'll live here?"

"We'll have to live somewhere, won't we?" As much as he loved it, he didn't want to spend his whole life living at Hogwarts.

"I expect you're right." Snape's favored him with a wry smile. "If you'd like we can live here when you leave school."

"We'll need to clean it up first," Harry said with a smile. When Snape's gaze met his, he felt a curious warmth invade his chest at the look of indulgence. "I'm not so far out of line, then am I, sir?"

"No." Snape shook his head and held out his hand toward the archway at the other side of the room. "Let me show you the rest of it before you invite anyone over."

"What good manners you have." Although he tried to put a touch of sarcasm in it, Harry did think he had excellent manners when he allowed them to show.

"I should remind you that you are the one with appalling manners, Mr. Potter, not I. Having seen where you come from that's not surprising. Perhaps it will fall to me to teach you some."

"Do you think you can?" Harry would not take any bets on it. Aside from everything else, he believed a person needed to be taught while quite young for it to be effective.

"I can try." Snape's tone said that he doubted it would do much good.

"I suppose you can." Harry smiled at him.

His lips twitching into that half-smile he had, Snape again nodded towards the door. "Come along, now."

*****

As Snape entered the kitchen, he waved his wand and muttered an all-purpose cleaning spell. It helped. Somewhat. Unfortunately, some tasks had to be handled individually. At least Potter would not be sneezing with the dust gone.

"Are you expecting me to help you clean up some of this?" Potter's tone said he was reluctant, but expected it that would be required of him. "I mean, manually."

Glancing at Potter and seeing his expression, Snape put down his wand and focused on him. "Why would you want to?" he asked.

Potter's eyes narrowed as if the answer took him by surprise. "You don't expect me to help you?"

"If you mean to actually do the drudgery by hand -- which is what I assume you meant -- then no. Again, why would you think I would ask that of you?"

Silent for a moment, obviously thinking about it, Potter looked up at him. "I guess since I know how, I assumed you'd want me to help out."

"You were expected to do this kind of manual labor for your family?" Snape did not like the sound of that or what it might imply. "Tell me more about living with them."

Looking away, Potter was silent for a count or two. Reluctance came off him in waves. "We don't need to talk about this."

"I think we do." Snape folded his arms over his chest and glared down at Potter. Never sure how far to push thing when talking about the Muggles who raised him, some instinct said not to let this go easily. "You will tell me."

"If I won't?" Potter mimicked his stance right down to the hard- eyed stare. "You can't force me to talk about them. They are out of my life."

"Given the bond and its effects, all I need to do is ask you the right questions." Snape knew that he'd made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

Potter's expression became mutinous, his eyes burned with outrage. "If you try, I'll do the same thing. I know there are subjects you don't want to discuss."

This round to Potter, Snape conceded, and tried a different tactic. "What they did will continue to affect you unless you talk about it." He had thought the Dursleys neglectful and uncaring, but not truly abusive. Now, it seemed that he had misjudged the situation.

"I don't need a shrink, okay?" Potter snapped, the response well out of proportion to the question. "Please just let it go."

Snape was becoming uncomfortable with tenor of the entire conversation. He wondered what he and the other teachers at the school had missed. "Unfortunately, I cannot. What is a shrink?" 

"It's a Muggle term for a healer of the mind." Potter seemed to close in on himself in a way that made Snape more nervous than his anger had done.

"Ah. You would need such a creature because?" His anger with Potter's family grew. They had a great deal to answer for and Snape was uncertain how to make them pay for it, but he'd give the matter some serious thought. 

"I don't need one, that's what I'm saying." Potter's expression was defensive.

Not all wizard children were cherished, he certainly hadn't been, but actual abuse was rare. He couldn't deal with Potter as he would a suspected abuse case in his house, he was too close to him. Without an incident or idea as to how to proceed, Snape fell back on the familiar. "We shall have to discuss this. I think--"

"No. Don't think." Potter turned away, his back straight and his shoulders stiff. He started for the door.

"Do not think to leave this room." Snape made it an order, not that Potter ever obeyed him, but he hoped it would convey his seriousness. "You will tell me what happened with those people."

"They made me cook and clean for my keep. They made me wear Dudley's hand-me-down clothes. They would give a list of chores to do. Sometimes they would all go off and expect them done when they got home. Sometimes it would be after I got home from school, before dinner."

Something in the way Potter said list of chores struck a cord in Snape. "What kind of chores, exactly?"

Potter gave him an exasperated look. "The usual types of things. Tending the garden, mowing the lawn, pulling weeds. Indoor stuff, like cooking, dishes, vacuuming, washing the floors, cleaning the bathrooms and the kitchen."

"All at one time?" Snape asked carefully and was appalled when Potter nodded. "How much time did you have to complete the tasks?"

Looking uncomfortable again, Potter glared at him. "Usually I had a couple of hours."

Snape hid his fury. "How often were you expected to get this list of chores done?"

"Whenever they wanted stuff done." The way he said it indicated it was not on Saturday, but during the week. "It wasn't that bad."

"What would happen if you didn't get your chores quickly enough?"

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Potter looked around. "Shouldn't we be cleaning up here instead of talking about my life with the Durselys?"

It wasn't even a good attempt at distraction, Snape thought and then focused back on Potter. "I want you to answer the question."

"What if I don't want to?" Potter sounded desperate not to talk about it. 

"I should think that is an answer in and of itself, isn't it." Snape tried to keep his voice as even as possible. "They didn't feed you, did they?"

With his face red with obvious embarrassment, Potter nodded. "No. They didn't."

"You thought this was acceptable behavior from those who should be taking care of you?" Snape asked, not letting his anger show, but he was already thinking of ways he'd like to deal with those Muggles. 

Shaking his head, Potter's expression was bitter, with a world of hurt underneath it. "No. I didn't like it. But I had no rights. They knew it and they made sure that I knew it, too. They never touched me, not in any way."

It hurt him to believe that Potter thought his own happiness counted for so little, but then, there had been no one to tell him otherwise. No one to rescue him from a hideous situation. In fact, there had been any number of people, himself included, who had actively encouraged that thinking.

If he allowed himself the luxury of guilt about it now, he would go mad. Pushing it away for the present, Snape glanced back at Potter. "You're wrong. They were expected to keep you safe and treat you decently."

"We've already established they weren't any more thrilled to have me than I was to be there." Harry laughed humorlessly. 

"There is a big step between 'not thrilled' and abuse." Snape wanted to do something unforgivable to the Muggles. The thought of that fat man under his wand gave him a small thrill. He took a breath and exhaled it slowly. That wasn't where he needed to concentrate his energies now. The time would come, perhaps.

"What makes you think you can tell the difference? I was there, and you weren't." Potter's tone was scathing, as if he could not imagine how Snape might know such a thing.

Focusing back on Potter, Snape made an effort to speak calmly and rationally. Allowing his anger to overwhelm him would do neither of them any good. "I'm head of House for Slytherin. Do you think you are the only child ever to be treated poorly by a parent or relative? I know the signs."

"Well, you're wrong here." Potter bowed his head. "Mostly they ignored me. I never got anything from them. Honestly. It wasn't abuse, just neglect."

Putting a hand on Potter's chin, he raised his head. "You do realize that it is typical for an abused child to blame himself for what happened. Besides which, is not neglect another form of abuse?"

"No. It's not the same." Potter jerked his head out of Snape's grasp. "I don't blame myself for what they did to me, I blame them."

"As glad as I am to hear you say that, I wonder how true it is." Potter might not be able to lie to him, but he could lie to himself. However, that he could say it at all was a positive sign.

"Can we just drop it?" Potter finally raised his head, his eyes pleading. "I'm out of their house. I don't ever have to see them again."

Knowing he shouldn't, Snape put a hand on Potter's face again, carding his fingers through the messy hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "All right. I think you would benefit from speaking to someone else about this. If only to alleviate my fears." 

For a moment, Potter closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. Snape's heart caught at his look of joy at being touched.

When Potter opened his eyes, he gave Snape a hard look, but couldn't seem to hold it. "All right, because you ask." Then he grinned. "You'll owe me one, won't you?"

Snape knew when he was cornered, and some part of him wanted to strike out, but even as he formed the thought, it dissipated and he gave in. "Fine, brat."

Potter leaned into his hand, smiling even more broadly.

Shaking his head, he denied to himself how good that smile made him feel. "Good enough." He extracted his hand as gently as he could. As soon as he got Potter back to school, he'd speak to McGonagall or Pomfrey. 

"Can I help with the clean-up?" Harry asked, normally. As if the previous conversation had not happened.

"No. You can't do magic and I won't allow you to clean the Muggle way." Snape swished his wand in the air again and the floors and counter tops were spotless. "It won't take long for me to do this."

"The whole house is going to take a while." Potter made a point of looking around at the still dirty areas of the kitchen. 

"I think we shall only do those tasks that need to be done to make the house habitable for the next few weeks."

"A place for me to sleep would be good?" Potter smiled at him. "Preferably with a large, comfortable bed."

"Are you tired?" Snape asked, looking at him and seeing the answer before Potter said anything. There were dark circles under Potter's eyes and a general air of fatigue a boy his age should not have.

"I haven't been sleeping well the last two weeks, so yeah, I am." His sentence was finished with a large yawn. "Dinner would be nice, too."

"We'll need to go into town for that." He should have planned this better, Snape decided. However, when he'd felt Potter's distress, all he'd thought about was getting to him, not about what he'd do with him once he did. 

"No takeaway?" Potter's eyes sparkled with mischief and he looked smug as he asked, "Do you know what takeaway is?"

"I do." Snape smirked at him. "I'm not completely ignorant of the Muggle world."

"You'd be surprised at how many wizards are. Ignorant, I mean," Potter said leaning against the door frame and watching him clean.

"No. I am never surprised by the stupidity of my fellow wizards." Snape flicked his wand one final time and the kitchen was clean. "Let's do the bedrooms and then we can go into town for dinner."

"Good idea. We'll need supplies, too," Potter said as he opened a now clean, but completely bare cupboard. "I'm thinking biscuits, Swiss rolls and chocolate frogs all sound good to me."

Groaning softly as his stomach turned over at the thought of that much sugar and its effects on a teenaged boy, Snape put his foot down. "I think something a bit more nutritious might be more in order."

Potter made a face and followed him into the hall and up the stairs. 

"You may sleep in here. My room will be down the hall in the master suite." They stood in the doorway of a room dominated by a large canopied bed. The drapes were dark blue velvet with a matching counterpane and pillows. Snape flicked his wand several times and the room was clean.

Taking the shrunken cube out of his pocket, Potter put it on the floor, looking at Snape expectantly. "How long are we going to stay here?"

"Long enough for you to get your summer homework done." He resized Potter's possessions. "About two weeks. I'll take you to the Weasleys' afterward."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to seeing them." Potter looked around the room and smiled. "What are we going to do while we're here?"

"Do?" Snape hadn't actually thought that far ahead. "There is a library. I'm going to set up my lab. What do you want to do?"

"Aside from magic?" Potter asked, following him back into the hall. "I don't know. I guess I could look around."

The master bedroom was exactly as Snape remembered it when his grandfather lived there. Dark wooden furniture and gloomy drapes and hangings. If they did return, Snape promised himself that he'd redecorate. For now, he swiped his wand in the air a couple of times and the room was passably clean.

"I know that it will be difficult for you to do, but I do want you to try to stay out of trouble while you're here," Snape said, turning his gaze back to Potter. 

"I'm sure I can do that." Potter's expression did not instill confidence in Snape at all.

"See that you do. I don't want to be bothered rescuing you from some desperate situation you've managed to get yourself into." Snape looked at Potter assessing the situation. Seventeen and bored was by no means a good combination. "Perhaps you can help me in the lab."

"You'd let me?" Potter looked shocked by the request, but surprisingly eager as well.

Raising an eyebrow, Snape waited a beat. "Yes. I'd allow it. If you paid attention and did what you were told."

"I think I can mange that." Shaking his head, Potter went out the door and then looked back at him. "Dinner?"

For some reason Snape did not want to examine too closely, he could not hold back a smile. "Yes."

*****

Severus is dreaming. He tells himself it is not real, but that does not make it any less horrible. 

He is standing with a group of Death-Eaters, watching a mudblood house burn. The dark mark rises above the structure. 

Three small children race out of the flames, clutching their blankets. It's cold and dark. They see the line of Death-Eaters and slow their approach. They sense the danger and cling to each other.

As he watches, someone behind him calls out, "Crucio" and the largest of the children falls screaming to the ground. She is no more than ten. The other two children try to help her, but they too are caught with curses.

He hates mudblood. He tells himself they deserve to die, but the screams pierce the night, the children writhe on the ground, slowly dying in agony. He wants to look away, to pretend it isn't happening, pretend he isn't apart of it. He hates himself so much more than he hates the mudblood.

One of the children finally falls silent. The other two soon follow. Another scream rips the air: the mother has been released from 'Petrificus Totalus'. Severus watches the fight go out of her as she sees her children are dead. 

She is thrown to the ground and Cruciatus is cast again. Laughter rings out. She screams and screams and screams. And then she dies. Her sightless eyes are staring up at him, accusing him.

The dream changes then. Different than before. Her face morphs into another. Into Harry Potter's face. He hears Potter scream and he watches Potter die.

Severus starts to scream.

*****

Snape's own shouts woke him from the horror of his memory. He sat up in bed with a start, breathing hard and hating himself. Merlin, he couldn't stop shaking. Putting his head in his hands, he allowed himself to weep. No matter how much time had passed, no matter what he had done to atone, those memories did not ever let him forget his crimes. 

He hated himself for what he'd done, for what he'd allowed himself to do in his stupidity and hatred, and he knew he was damned.

A moment later, there were arms around him, and even though he knew he didn't deserve the comfort, he leaned into it, savoring it without thinking. He cried, breathing in and out wetly, getting his bearings back. 

No doubt, Potter would want an explanation. Snape realized he'd better think of something to say and he pulled out of Potter's arms.

"Are you okay?" Potter brushed his damp hair away from his face and looked at him. "Okay. Stupid question. What happened? What upset you like that?"

Closing his eyes, Snape sucked in a breath and let it out. He wiped his face on the edge of the sheet. "I had a nightmare."

"That must have been some nightmare to have set you off like that." Potter shuddered. "Want to talk about it."

"Not with you." Snape watched Potter's face fall, and sighed again. "It's very personal. How did you get in here?"

"The door wasn't locked. Actually, it wasn't even closed all the way." Potter sat up a bit. "I heard you scream my name. Want to tell me why?"

"No." Snape looked away. He remembered the dream had changed and how. "It was... something to do with my past."

"Death Eaters?" Potter asked, his tone far too knowing for Snape's peace of mind. "Something that really happened?"

"Why do you ask that?" 

"What else would make you hysterical like that?" Potter's face was flushed, and he looked embarrassed. 

More than the incident warranted as far as Snape could see, more than he himself felt. "My tears have upset you?"

Potter looked away quickly, but not before Snape could see the color on his face. He put a hand on Potter's chin and moved his face back to meet his eyes. "Why are you embarrassed?"

"Men aren't supposed to cry. Not about a nightmare," Potter said, his face going redder. "I'm sorry."

Muggle societal crap. It must be. Snape tried to tamp down his anger and told himself that Potter didn't know any better. "I see. So even if the nightmare is one of the worst memories of my life, and something I regret more than I can possibly say, I shouldn't cry over it, shouldn't feel regret? I should just... what is the expression, suck it up?"

"Well no, but..." Potter looked away again. "I thought your worst memory was..."

Yes, he knew just what Potter was thinking about, even without his saying it out loud. "That is definitely one of them. This however, is worse."

"Oh." Potter seemed fascinated with the brocade of the coverlet on the bed, tracing it with his finger.

Snape watched him, trying to gauge his mood. Potter could be so prickly about some things. "You never cry?"

"Actually, I don't." Potter was telling the truth, indeed, he sounded proud of it. "I gave it up. It doesn't help with anything."

Snape shook his head. "I've always found it helpful in releasing pent up emotions. The things you can't live with."

"Do you...uh... cry a lot?" His horror at the thought came through without the bond telling him. For some reason, it amused Snape almost as much as it annoyed him.

"What I do in my own bed, with no one to hear, shouldn't matter to you in the slightest." Snape hadn't meant to sound so harsh.

"I heard it. I will hear it in the future." Clearly, that did not sit well with Potter.

Too bad, Snape thought. He knew he was too emotional. Controlling his emotions had always been a problem for him, especially his anger. He yelled and screamed and cried when he felt the need. He even laughed on occasion. "Wizards, and witches for that matter, are discouraged from expressing harsh emotions in public, but in the privacy of their own home..." 

"I'm sorry." He shivered. "I'll try not to be judgmental. I knew how bad you were feeling."

"I have nightmares on occasion. It has been some time since the last one." Snape straightened his shoulders. He was not going to apologize. "I would suggest that if my emotional displays bother you, you simply ignore them in the future."

Potter looked upset at that. "I don't think I could do that. You were screaming."

"I shall put silencing wards up on my rooms." Which he should have done already. 

"Don't." Potter put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "I'd rather hear. Doesn't it help to have someone wake you?"

"Nothing helps." Snape remembered the comfort of holding onto someone. "Perhaps. And perhaps I don't --" he stopped before he could let those words out.

Unfortunately, Potter wasn't stupid. "You deserve comfort as much as anyone else."

"You can't say that. You don't know my crimes, Mr. Potter." Snape had no intention of telling him either. Not ever.

"It doesn't matter. I can guess." Potter tightened his grip on his arm. "I think the bond is going to make keeping secrets very difficult. All I have to do is ask you, right?"

Snape could hear that he wasn't going to ask in his tone. "You could."

"But I won't. Yet. I'll wait for you to tell me." Potter's expression was hopeful. 

"Perhaps I shall tell you one day." Snape looked at Potter, who was sitting in the ruin of his bed, wearing only his y-fronts. "I think it's time for you to go back to your room."

Looking down and then seeming to realize what he was wearing, or not wearing, Potter blushed again. "Yeah." He backed off the bed. "I'll see you in the morning.

As he left, Snape let out a huge sigh. He'd have to try and control himself better from now on. Unfortunately, he already knew how effective that would be.

*****

"What are we going to do about things?" Harry asked, sitting down across from Snape in the sitting room on the first floor. They had been at Snape Manor for nearly two weeks and he was to leave for the Burrow in two days.

"Ever so precise, aren't you, Mr. Potter?" Snape put down his book. "What are we going to do about what things?"

"School, my friends, Voldemort?" There were so many things in his life that were in flux, Harry couldn't quite process all of it. He felt as if it were all out of his control and it was, which made it all the more complicated.

"Ah." Picking up his glass from the table in front of the sofa, Snape took a long sip. "School should be much the same as it was last term. Perhaps even closer to what it should be now that I can speak to you without giving you house points or worse."

"Except, well...." Harry looked down, not sure exactly how to put it. "I can feel... I mean, you know..."

Snape looked at him intently. "Feel what, exactly?" 

Harry couldn't look at him to say it. It was embarrassing to know something so intimate about Snape. He cleared his throat. "Um... I know what you feel for me. Since last week, it's more so."

"Does it bother you?" Snape's expression was bland, but Harry could tell he wasn't quite as comfortable as he wanted to seem. "Dealing with an over-emotional teacher is rather daunting, even for you, isn't it?"

"You're a lot more to me than just a teacher, and you know that." Harry met his eyes. "Don't try and make this less. I know I reacted badly. I wanted to say--"

"You did not react badly--"

"I didn't know what to do. I've never seen anyone cry like that before. Not someone--"

"In authority?"

"No. Not at all. Ever." Harry sighed. "The only time I've ever come close to crying, was after the tri-wizard tournament, but even then I didn't."

"Why not?" Snape looked at him, curious. "What stopped you?"

"The moment passed before I could react to it." Harry shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. "You're not uncomfortable about what happened."

"You can tell that?" Snape's expression was somewhere between surprised and horrified. "Can you describe what you're feeling?

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to put it into words. "It's not like I can feel your emotions, I..." He paused and thought about if for another moment. "I know what you feel. It seems to come from you rather than from me."

"Surprisingly, I do understand what you mean, despite your making a hash of the explanation." Silent for a moment, Snape seemed to come to a decision. "Tell me what you know."

"I know that you're not embarrassed that I saw you cry. I also know what you feel for me is not the same as what I feel for you." He looked at his own hands while he said it. Whether he actually believed that Snape felt that for him was another story. Wrapping his mind around the concept of Snape caring that much was hard for him. It was too easy to remember years of cruelty. 

Again, Snape seemed to take this in and digest it. "No. I'm not embarrassed. And yes, I do know that what I feel is different from what you feel. It's to be expected."

"Why?" Harry thought they should be feeling the same thing. "We started at the same point."

"I'm older than you are, and I'm more inclined to accept what has happened between us. Does that bother you?" Snape's tone was honest, not at all condescending.

"Only in that I'm worried that I won't get there and you'll be hurt." It was true. He cared about Snape, would go a long way not to see him hurt.

Snape nodded. He didn't seem at all discomfited by it. "I'm not worried about that. Give yourself some time to grow up, to adjust to everything that's happened."

"I'm seventeen. Given everything I've been through, I think I'm grown up at this point." Harry felt a spark of anger ignite at Snape's words. God, he was so tired of being told how young he was.

"You were seventeen as of a week ago." Snape ran his fingers through his own hair, even away from his daily potions classes, it was oily, though not as bad as when he was teaching. "Try to pay attention, I know it's hard, but do try." He put a hand under Harry's jaw and moved his face to meet his eyes. "I would not hurt you. Not deliberately. Not any more."

"I do know that." He would know if there had been true malice. "I have noticed you've started insulting me again."

"Should I say that I'm sorry?" Snape didn't look very repentant at all, but he also didn't look antagonistic. "I would advise you to get used to it. I am not a nice man. Being nice to you was... challenging."

"It was out of character to say the least." Harry chuckled. He could live with a grumpy Snape, especially if he could see the humor and affection in what Snape said. It was pretty obvious, once he knew what he was looking for. "About school?"

"You'll return with your friends. We'll argue in class as we have in the past. I'll give you a great many detentions." Snape sounded like he liked that idea. Knowing him, he probably did. Killing two birds, as it were.

Harry, however, was not convinced that was the best way to handle things. "I want to say someone will notice that, but I don't think they will. We've never got along before. I guess it would be more out of character if we did now."

Snape nodded. "I would think so."

"What about Hermione and Ron?" Harry wondered what he could or would say to them about this. He'd exchanged notes with them both, but had been very careful in what he actually said. 

"Speak to them when you see them. Things may have changed." The way Snape said it made Harry pause.

Ron and Hermione had not been that forthcoming with information in their notes either. It simply wasn't smart to say too much. "What things? Do you know something that I don't?"

Snape shrugged and clearly wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. "Are your worries about school eased?"

"And if they aren't?" Harry had a feeling he was missing something important and he couldn't figure out what it was.

"I would do what I could to reassure you." Snape sounded so sincere that some part of Harry warmed sweetly to it.

Harry put his hand on Snape's and squeezed. "You mean that. Thank you." Daring greatly, he turned his palm up, intertwining their fingers

"You're welcome. I hope in a few months that we will begin to share our magical power." Snape made that sound like a good thing and perhaps it was. 

Harry wasn't sure he was ready for more complications yet. Too many things were happening at one time. "Yeah. What's happening with Voldemort?"

"Not much that I know of. I've only been summoned once this summer. I don't know if I'm out of favor or if he is planning something." Snape gently extracted his hand. "Are you almost packed?"

"Well... " Harry thought about the mess he'd made of the room Snape had given him. 

"I'll take that as a no." He didn't sound overly annoyed by the idea. "However, I'm going to be taking you to the Weasleys' tomorrow rather than the following day."

"Why?" Harry was disappointed to be going early, even if he was looking forward to spending time with Ron.

"I have been asked to do something for the Headmaster." The complete lack of inflection in Snape's tone and the blank expression told Harry pretty clearly that Snape did not want to talk about it.

He shouldn't even bother to ask, he knew that, but he did anyway. "Will you tell me what is you're going to be doing?"

"No." The tone said he would not back down on it.

"Should I worry?" Harry pushed away a pang of something he couldn't quite identify.

Shape looked at him and shook his head. "Just let it go."

"All right." Harry stood and headed for the door. "I'd better go pack, then."

"Mr. Potter," Snape said. The slightest bit of uncertainty in his voice. "Do not be angry with me about things I cannot share with you. There are reasons."

Harry looked back at him. "I'm not. I..." He sighed. "I'm just not ready to leave yet."

Snape nodded once. "I know."

*****