Part V

"Harry!" Ron said as he opened the door, smiling widely. He punched Harry playfully in the shoulder, and Harry nearly stumbled. Ron seemed to get bigger every time Harry saw him. 

"We weren't expecting you until tomorrow." Ron opened the door wider to allow him through with his stuff. 

"Snape had to go back to school, so he dropped me off early. Said to tell your mum he couldn't stay." Harry dragged his trunk and Hedwig's cage into the room. Snape hadn't miniaturized it for him this time. "Are you here by yourself? Where is everyone?"

"Mom and Ginny are shopping. They won't be back for a while. Dad's at work, and everyone else doesn't live here anymore." Ron grabbed the end of the trunk and helped him drag it up the narrow staircase to the fifth landing. 

Once in Ron's room, which was still decorated with orange Chudley Cannons posters, they deposited the trunk beside the cupboard. Lying across the bed, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "That was a climb, huh?"

"You get used to it after a while," Ron said, sitting down next to him. "Not like I've got much choice."

Harry nodded. "When do we go to Headquarters?"

"We don't. We're stuck here for the next two weeks." Ron frowned. "What were you doing with Snape?"

"What?" Harry couldn't believe he wasn't going to be able to do anything with the Order at all over the summer. He should have talked to Snape about it, but they always seemed to have other things to talk about. "Why?"

"Dumbledore wants us here. I think something is starting to happen and they don't want to let us know yet," Ron said. "So about Snape?"

Clearly, Ron didn't want to talk about the Order, even if Harry did. "I spent the last two weeks with him. At Snape Manor."

"Snape Manor? I didn't know there was a Snape Manor." Ron's eyes got wide, and he looked aghast. "Alone? All that time?"

"Yeah." Harry wasn't sure he liked Ron's look at all. He simply couldn't be implying what he seemed to be implying.

"Did he try anything?" Ron cleared his throat, turning red. "Funny, I mean?"

Harry felt a moment's outrage on Snape's behalf, but couldn't hold it with the concern he saw in Ron's face. "Oh, God no. He wouldn't. God, he won't even call me by my given name."

Ron raised an eyebrow at that, surprised. "He won't? Even when no one else is around?"

"Especially then. Won't let me call him Severus, either." That was starting to drive Harry mad. Calling him sir or professor was surprisingly difficult when there wasn't that comfortable distance between them any more. 

Ron nodded, and looked approving. "Well, I hope not. Wouldn't be right, would it?"

"Why not? I mean..." Harry lost his battle to not blush. He glanced at Ron, seeing the blush on his cheeks, too.

With a shudder, Ron's eyes showed a realization that hadn't been there before. "It's gonna happen, isn't it? You and him?"

"I reckon so." Harry still couldn't look at him. "I don't think there's much either of us can do about that at this point."

"You're not, now," Ron stammered. He took a deep breath. "I mean, are you?"

"No. Not yet. But the idea doesn't make me want to vomit anymore, either." To himself he could admit that it had been a very long time since he'd felt anything other than anticipation for what was coming. Even if he didn't quite know what it would be, he knew he wanted it

With a very over-done shudder, Ron glanced at him, his expression serious. "There's a long way from not wanting to be sick, to actually kissing the greasy git." 

"Don't I know it. I'm a lot closer to the kissing, than I am to the vomiting." Deliberately, he allowed some of his anticipation into his tone. Ron needed to know he didn't have a problem with it.

Ron looked closely at him, and then grimaced. "I didn't need to hear that."

"Sorry." Harry smiled. Good to be able to surprise him once in a while.

"Have you ever?" Ron looked closely at him again. "I mean, with anyone?"

Trying not to be embarrassed, Harry shook his head. "No." He was old enough to have had more experience than he did. There just hadn't been time. "What about you?"

"Not that. But some other stuff." Ron's expression was thoughtful. "Have you done anything else?"

Shaking his head, he couldn't look at Ron. It was stupid to be embarrassed about his inexperience, but he was. "Not much."

"How can you be sure it's going to be him, then? How do you know it's even wizards that you want?"

"Since it's going to be Snape..." He trailed off, he hadn't actually considered the wizard part before. The idea in general didn't bother him.

"Do you fancy witches? I mean, at all? Are you going to miss..." Ron looked away, his face turning red again.

He thought about Cho. She was so pretty, but he didn't feel like he was going to miss anything by not kissing her again. Of course, kissing her the first time hadn't been so great. Harry shook his head. "I don't think so."

Ron shrugged. "How about... you know?"

There were some things that he knew even without thinking about them. "It's different with Snape." 

"You've got nothing to judge by," Ron said, sounding concerned. "How can you know it's different?"

"Even without any thing else to it judge by, I know it." There would be no explaining to anyone the feeling of Snape invading his very soul. While it was strange, it wasn't unpleasant or something he was afraid of. "I do wish I knew a bit more... about that sort of thing." Harry said wistfully.

"Do you want to try something?" There was a light in Ron's eyes that he had learned to recognize as Ron's adventurous streak. "With me?"

Rolling onto his side, Harry propped his head on his hand. "What do you mean?"

"How about I give you a bit of a snog..." Ron's expression was both eager and embarrassed. He blushed harder, rivaling his hair for color. "Just between friends and all."

"For comparison sake." However much it surprised him, Harry liked that idea. He looked at Ron, seeing him in a slightly different light than before. "Okay."

"Really?" Ron seemed surprised he agreed, but at least he didn't look any less eager. Indeed, he was looking at Harry as if he were a chocolate treat.

Harry wasn't quite sure he believed it, but he was willing to give it a go. "Okay, then. Come here." Harry laid back down flat on his back.

Ron lay down on the bed beside him and rolled over on top of him. It took a second to arrange their limbs comfortably, but the weight and the heat of Ron's body felt good. 

Putting his arms tentatively around Ron's shoulders, Harry looked up into his eyes. "Now what?" Harry asked.

One of Ron's big hands, slid down his face to his jaw, and held him gently. The other hand plucked his glasses off his face, and set them somewhere out of reach. 

Lowering his face, Ron's mouth brushed his. A sweet spark raced through Harry and he shivered pleasantly. It felt good, nice. Safe.

After another brush of his lips, Ron pulled back just a bit. "Okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Do it again." He closed his eyes, and tilted his head forward, allowing Ron to kiss him again. Longer this time. The intensity surprised him and he let go a shuddering breath. He liked the feel of Ron's soft mouth and the taste of tea, and the sweet pressure.

Opening his mouth, he let Ron's tongue slide in. That was nice, too. Ron's lips moved on his, deepening the kiss. Harry went with it, enjoying the physical sensations, but something was missing. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but something indefinable didn't feel quite right. 

Ron pulled back, a hand stroking down Harry's hair. "Well?"

"That was nice, mate." Harry said truthfully. "I liked it. Why'd you want do it?

"I've wanted to kiss a bloke ever since Seamus tried to kiss me two years ago, and I clocked him." Ron rolled off him and settled beside him.

Harry missed the feel of someone so close, even if the body wasn't quite the right one. "Why'd you clock him if you were curious?"

"Blimey, Harry. He scared the life out of me." Ron made a face. "Snuck up on me in the showers. I was not ready for that."

Shuddering, Harry could not imagine what he might have done, but clocking the prat would have been the least of it. "Yeah. Seamus has more enthusiasm than brains sometimes."

"Anyway, I wasn't adverse to the idea--"

"With Seamus?" Harry couldn't quite picture that, not the two of them together. Their temperaments were all wrong for that sort of thing.

"Well, not with him, no." Ron's blush deepened as he went on and he shrugged. "However, the idea in general held a bit of appeal."

"Are you thinking you're gay?" Nothing Harry had ever seen pointed in that direction, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He'd not been paying much attention to anything recently.

Quiet for a moment, Ron seemed to be seriously considering the question. "No. I don't think so. Kissing you right now, was..." A blush stole across his face. "Nice, you know. But I've never felt a huge pull towards blokes. Just a bit of curiosity."

"I hope you're not going to use kissing me as a test." Harry didn't want to be the decision point in anyone's life, not even his own.

"No." Ron laughed. "I'm hoping to use kissing Hermione as the test, since she's the one I've always wanted to kiss."

"Why'd you kiss me, then? I mean, if you wanted to kiss her?" Harry asked. He didn't want to sound like he minded because he hadn't, but he couldn't wrap his mind around Ron's thinking.

"You're not a bad looking bloke, mate." Ron smiled. "Besides, I've wanted to kiss you, too. I still want to kiss her."

Ignoring the first part because it was such a lie, Harry asked, "So it was just what you said, then? Just curiosity?"

"Yeah. You're my best mate. And well..." Ron looked away. 

He didn't have to say it, Harry knew. "Me too. But not like that. I don't think I like anyone like that."

"No one?" Why did he sound so surprised? Ron cleared his throat. "Not even... um... Snape?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"You think you will, then." Ron didn't sound like he was asking a question, more like he was reiterating what he knew. He also didn't seem very upset by the idea, which relieved Harry as much as it surprised him.

"Yes. Eventually." Harry did not want to talk about Snape anymore. "What about Hermione?"

"I never thought, you know, that she would be interested in me. I mean, she's smarter than me." Ron breathed out a long sigh. "We've been owling over the break."

"I've always had the idea that she might be." Part of Harry hoped that she was, that she liked Ron as much as he clearly liked her. Another part of him wondered where he would fit into that mix. That was petty, he decided. Snape was going to take a lot of his time from now on, maybe it was only natural that Ron and Hermione turn to each other. 

"Yeah." Ron sighed again. "She'll be here on Friday."

"Then you'll have time to convince her. Let her know how you feel. I'm thinking it's going to work out just fine." He thought that Hermione and Ron were going to have less problems than he was going have with Snape. 

"You're not going to be upset?" Ron looked away. "I mean, if she and I..."

Shaking his head, he was still glad that Ron had asked. "No. I think I'm going to be spending most of this coming year revising for my NEWTs or in detention with Snape."

"Dealing with 'You Know Who'," Ron added with a visible shudder. 

Harry suppressed his own fear. "Yeah. That, too.

A door opened and closed downstairs. The sound of two female voices drifted up to them. "Mom and Ginny must be home." 

They both sat up and looked at each other. "Okay?" Ron asked, handing Harry back his glasses.

"Yeah. And thanks, mate."

Ron smiled. "My pleasure."

***** 

Harry had been so tired the night before, he'd gone to bed early. As a result, he woke the next morning earlier than anyone else. For a while he lay in bed, but after he heard sounds downstairs, he decided it was time to get up. He went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Weasley talking to someone in the fireplace. 

"All right, then. We'll speak more later," Molly said as the fire went out.

He glanced at her, but didn't ask. 

She looked uncomfortable for a moment and then seemed to gather herself. "That was Professor Dumbledore," she said and cleared her throat. "He told me about the bond."

"Did he? Why?" He thought it was supposed to be a secret. Hadn't Dumbledore once told him that the more something was supposed to be a secret, the more people knew about it or something like that.

"Because Professor Snape feels it necessary to visit you here this week. Harry, I want you to answer me honestly." She looked right at him. "Has he done anything inappropriate to you, anything to make you feel uncomfortable?"

The little hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he had to fight down his irritation. "No! Of course not. How could you think such a thing?"

"Don't get upset with me, young man. I'm trying to look out for your best interests. I would not like to see you hurt by him." She gave him that 'mother knows best' look he'd come to associate with her when she was meddling.

Reigning in his anger took work, but Harry managed it. He knew she meant well. "I appreciate that. What is between Professor Snape and myself is between us. I don't want to discuss it."

Her expression said she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "You've been forced into a situation where--"

Cutting her off before she could even get those words out was the only way to keep his temper. "No! I mean, yes we were forced, but I wasn't the only one. He was forced, too." Harry took another breath, wishing for once people would at least try to understand.

"So Professor Dumbledore told me. I just don't see--"

"What? That he didn't like me any better than I liked him?" Unable to help himself, Harry glared at her. "You don't understand at all."

"Then explain it to me." She folded her arms over her chest and waited for him to say something.

His normal reticence to speaking of personal things was pushed aside in favor of defending Snape. "Mrs. Weasley, you can't begin to understand what this bond between us is like. It's made me like him. No, more than that, it's made me love him."

"You're in love with him." Molly looked appalled. "What kind of degenerate is he that he would do that to a child."

"One," Harry said through his teeth, holding up a finger. "I'm seventeen. I'm hardly a child." He could see she was about as impressed with that as Snape had been. "And two." He held up a second finger. "He didn't do anything to me to make me care about him. It was the bond that had forced it." Harry held up a third finger. "And three. I'm not in love with him. Not yet."

Tilting her head a bit, she met his gaze. She looked slightly confused, but still determined to do her best for him whether he wanted it or not. "You just said--"

It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate that she cared enough to stick her nose in, it was just that he could handle his own life. "That I love him. And I do. But it's not 'in love'. Not yet."

"Not yet? That implies that you will be." She trailed off, seemingly horrified at the thought. "Do you think you will? Love him in that manner?"

"I think so." There was nothing more to say about that, not to his best mate's mum, even if she did try and mother him. "He has my best interests at heart, too. I know he does."

"How can you know that?" Molly sat back. "He's a grown man, with his own agenda." 

"If nothing else, the bond won't let him do anything to hurt me. I believe he loves me." Harry looked down at his feet, but he had to ask, "Why do you suspect him? I mean, he's on our side."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Molly assured him quickly. "However, I've always found Severus to be cold and unpleasant."

"That's no reason to think he would take advantage of me." There was something more here and Harry wanted to know what it was. "I can't believe you would think that about him."

Looking down at her hands, Molly exhaled slowly. "He's much older than you are. A young boy like you could be easily led."

"Mrs. Weasley, do you know me at all?" Again, Harry felt his anger rising for Snape's sake. "I'm not so easily led. Nor would I allow anyone to hurt me." 

"The bond might not give you the choice." She still wasn't meeting his eyes. "Or you might misread what you are feeling."

"I don't think you understand the nature of the bond. I know what he's feeling. I can't misread it." He tried to say it with enough force so that she wouldn't read his own doubt.

It must have been enough because her look gentled and she smiled at him. "I just don't want to see you hurt, Harry."

Dredging up a small smile for her, Harry knew she was trying to do the right thing by him. "I know and I truly appreciate that. Professor Snape is a good man, Mrs. Weasley. I wish you could see that."

Molly looked skeptical, but nodded. "We'll all see soon enough, won't we? He'll be here on Friday night." *****

Snape stepped out of the fireplace, and dusted the ashes off his robes. As casually as he could, he glanced around at those seated at the table. Locking his gaze on Potter, he breathed out sharply. Without a word to anyone, he opened his arms. Potter left the table to move into them with gratifying alacrity.

Five shocked faces -- Ms Granger was there as well -- greeted his stare over Potter's shoulder and he simply did not care. Separation the past week seemed harder than it had been during the few weeks after school ended. Snape could sense the desperation in Potter was well as what he felt himself.

"Bugger," Potter breathed against his shoulder. "I thought this was supposed to get easier."

"Apparently not." Snape closed his eyes and let Potter's heat seep into all of the cold places inside him.

"You're not going to leave again, are you?"

"It's not like I can stay here." Snape tried to pull back, to let go, but Potter held on. He couldn't quite find the strength to push him away. "Shhh, we'll talk about it later."

After several minutes, Snape opened his eyes and knew he'd have to deal with the aftermath of the scene they'd just played out. No one looked pleased with him, but they also didn't look overly surprised. What had they been told?

"Good evening, Severus." Arthur Weasley's voice was calm, almost as if nothing unexpected had happened. "Would you care to join us for dinner?"

Something in him wanted to laugh hysterically at the utter normality of the request, but he nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Both he and Potter moved to the table, and Ron shifted over to allow Snape to sit beside Potter. Molly got up and retrieved another place setting, then served him from communal platters.

For a long time, no one said a word and the tension, as everyone doggedly ate their dinner, was as thick as Molly's gravy. 

"Does anyone want pudding?" Molly asked, her voice cutting like a knife through the silence. 

"Yes, please." Ron said relieved to have something to say. "Harry? Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head and put her napkin on her plate without looking at anyone. "No. Thank you."

"Yes." Potter looked at Snape, taking his hand. "You?"

"No, thank you." Snape shook his head, his thumb traced over Potter's palm before he could stop himself. When he tried to ease his hand away, Potter did not let him go.

"No." Potter whispered, when he tried it again. "I need to touch you." In the silence, his voice carried and once again they were the focus of everyone's attention.

Closing his eyes, Snape drew in a breath, looking for strength not to explode. He hated this. "Can we speak of this later?"

The look in Potter's eyes surprised him. He recognized the belligerence even before Potter spoke. "You don't want to talk in front of my family?"

"Not especially, no." He glanced around the now silent table and tried to meet each one of their disapproving eyes.

Arthur cleared his throat. "I think we'd all like--"

"This discussion is not an option for anyone other than Mr. Potter and myself," Snape said in his most unforgiving tone. "Your opinion is not a concern--"

"Don't say it, sir." Potter cut him off. 

Snape glared at Potter, and would have snapped off a comment to put him in his place, except he couldn't seem to work up the righteous indignation he needed. "Don't speak to me like that," he whispered, squeezing Potter's hand hard.

"Don't speak to them like that." Potter pulled his hand away. "They care about me."

"We do," Molly said, putting a cake on the table. She picked up a knife and started to cut it into slices. "We care about you both."

As if he were likely to believe that crap. Snape snorted. "I'm well aware of how you feel about me. Were I not bonded--"

"No." Potter put his hand over Snape's mouth. "No."

Outraged, he jerked his head away to shake off Potter's hand. "Outside," he ordered. Standing up, Snape pushed his chair back so hard it scraped loudly along the wooden floor. His anger had finally broken through the bond. He could not allow this to continue. "Now."

With his head bowed, Potter stood up.

"You don't have to go, mate," Ron said, glaring at Snape with what he was sure was his best bravado. "He's got no authority over you here."

Another foolish, brave Gryffindor, Snape thought snidely, glaring at back Weasley. Oh, and he was very pleased at how quickly young Mr. Weasley dropped his gaze.

"Very true." Arthur looked at him, trying to gauge the situation, no doubt. "Severus, let Harry be."

"No. I shall need to speak to Mr. Potter. Privately." He nodded his head towards the door. This simply could not go on any longer. "Mr. Potter."

Potter moved toward the door and he followed. Once outside, Potter turned back towards him, his eyes huge. "I'm sorry."

"I am as well." Snape took a breath, all of his anger draining away in the wake of Potter's contrite look. He opened his arms. "Come here."

As Harry moved into Snape's arms, they both sighed. A kind of peace he'd never known settled over him.

After a few moments, he pulled back from the embrace, gently easing Potter away a step or two so that they might speak. "I dislike having to explain myself to anyone," Snape said.

"Especially when you have students around to watch?" Perception was not something he'd previously associated with Potter, but once again Snape might have underestimated him.

Or perhaps, Snape thought, Potter simply knew him well enough to understand him. That idea terrified him. "Yes. It weakens my position."

"They won't use it against you." It was clear that in his naivete, Potter truly believed that.

"How can they not? The mean old potions professor has a weakness. How can they not exploit it?" Snape understood human nature too well not to see the potential for ruin when it smacked him in the face. "Even honorable Gryffindors are not above taking advantage of a situation."

"Not everyone is like that, you know. I'm not." Potter tried to glare at him, but his expression lacked heat or anger.

"It matters little now. We've added more fuel to our fire as it were," Snape said, sighing deeply. "We'll need to explain."

"I've spent most of the week explaining." Potter looked up at him, tentatively holding out his hand. "I don't know that it's done much good, either."

Against his better judgement, Snape took it, and held it, needing more contact after the strife between them. "What has been said?"

Breathing out on a deep sigh, Potter looked down, seeming dispirited. "Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Ron all asked if you were doing anything inappropriate--"

"Good God!" Snape felt his anger rise, again. "Mr. Weasley, I can perhaps understand, but Molly and Arthur? I thought they both knew me better than..." He trailed off, feeling as defeated as Potter looked. "Apparently not."

Potter's hand tightened in his. "I told them both you were--"

"What? Decent to you? That I haven't tried to molest you. Did it ever occur to anyone that I might not want a sixteen year old boy." Snape closed his eyes, hating himself for being anything other than angry.

"I'm seventeen. And circumstances being what they are..." Potter pulled Snape against him, pressing the lower half of his body against Snape's. 

A wash of wonderful and terrible sensations cascaded over him as Potter's thigh pressed into his groin. Somehow, he'd failed to notice how hard he'd become. Bloody hell. He did not want this, did not want to react to it, but his body continued to betray him. "It does not mean I would ever act on it."

"Don't you think I know that?" Putting both arms around his waist, Potter pressed his face into Snape's shoulder. "I know. But they don't know it. They care about me."

"I know they care about you. That is the only reason I tolerate this humiliation at all. They should know me better." Anger flooded over him again and he felt Potter's hand move soothing along his back. 

"How would they?" Potter sounded sad. "How can anyone know you when you don't let anyone but Dumbledore -- and I'm not even sure about him -- close to you?"

Pulling back, he looked down into Potter's face. He knew what Potter was trying to say, but it was far too late for that. "I don't want my authority undermined with my students."

"Being a little less cold, or nasty, or closed off isn't going to undermine your authority." Harry looked like he was trying to smile. "Especially since you don't have to be."

"That is where you're wrong, Mr. Potter." Snape scowled at him. "You're laboring under the assumption that I care what people think of me. I neither am, nor want to be, a nice man." It was only with Potter and his bloody family that his skin was so damned thin.

"If that were true, why do you care what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said about how you treat me?" Potter's eyes held his for a moment without triumph. "You're upset by it."

All right, so Potter might have a point. Damn him. "It's not in my nature to be nice to people, nor to explain myself."

Potter gave him another look that said he knew that Snape hadn't addressed the real question. "You don't have to be awful, either."

"Why not?" He sounded like a child being refused a treat and he knew it and didn't care. "I don't like most people."

"Well, I do. I love the Weasleys. They are a part of my life, and that isn't going to change." Potter's arms were still looped loosely around his waist and he leaned back to meet Snape's eyes. "You're now a part of my life, too. Get along."

"Insolent brat." He let himself move the fringe off Potter's forehead.

"Yes. I know." Potter tightened his arms, hugging him hard. "Let's go talk to them."

He held on for a moment more and then reluctantly released him. "Talk, fine. Nice, not bloody likely." 

*****

Snape woke with a start; the muscles in his back and neck on fire. Shifting, the weight on top of him grunted and rolled over, hitting the floor with a thud. 

"Hey!" Potter said, sitting up and rubbing his bum. "Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't, Mr. Potter. You were asleep on top of me." Snape massaged the back of his neck, hoping to get some of the stiffness out.

"Oh. How--"

"I think you fell asleep that way." The last thing Snape remembered was talking softly to Potter. After the house had settled for the night, and Snape was safely -- or so Molly thought -- ensconced on the sofa with a blanket and pillow, Potter had slipped out of Ron's room and came downstairs to sit with him. 

Even though he'd known he should have sent him back upstairs, he had not been able to bring himself to do so. "You should go back up now."

"I agree," Arthur stood on the stairs in his dressing gown. The expression on his face more forbidding than Snape had ever seen it. "Go on up, Harry," Arthur said, his voice milder than his look.

Lifting himself off the floor, Potter glanced his way nervously, but said nothing as he moved up the stairs. Arthur moved aside to let him by, but didn't follow him up.

Snape bit back a groan as he watched Arthur come down and sit down adjacent to him in one of the big comfortable chairs. "You and Harry were asleep?" 

Straightening up, he met Arthur's gaze head on. "I think that's obvious." Snape had no apologies to make to this man or anyone else for that matter.

"Would you care to explain that?" There was a definite implication in his tone.

Snape did not care for it one little bit. "No."

Usually sweet natured, Arthur possessed a surprisingly harsh glare, which he now directed toward Snape. "I won't have you --"

To avoid even more offense, Snape cut him off before he could get the words out. "Do not presume --"

"Someone has to protect the boy." Arthur clearly felt that it was his family's job to do so.

With a snort of disgust, Snape ground his teeth and clenched his jaw. "Whom do you think you're dealing? That boy is the most powerful wizard of our time. I'm quite certain he can protect himself." Where Potter couldn't, it would be Snape who would protect him -- not anyone else. It galled him that they thought Potter might need protection from him.

The affable Arthur Weasley did not look so amicable now. Indeed, he seemed very much the knight-gallant riding out to protect the helpless child. "I want your assurance you will not hurt him."

As much as he would have liked to get up and walk out on this whole conversation, he couldn't. Snape took a deep breath, trying to let his anger go. Alienating Arthur would thereby alienate Potter. "I will not harm him." He glared at Arthur. "I cannot harm him."

"You can. You may not mean to, but you are so much older--"

"No." Snape shook his head one time. "I don't think you understand the nature of the bond between us. I cannot hurt him."

Taken aback, Arthur gave him an odd look. "Then, explain it to me."

"I'd rather not." It was none of Arthur's or anyone else's damned business. "It's between Mr. Potter and myself." 

Folding his arms over his chest, Arthur stared him down. "Tell me about it anyway. You know I have Harry's best interests at heart. Reassure me."

Snape wanted to refuse, but Potter had been so bloody adamant about the Weasleys. Oh, he knew that for all their prying ways, they meant well, but it still grated. "Beyond being able to share magic, the bond will ultimately bind us to each other with trust so great that we will never do anything to hurt each other -- we are not capable of it."

Nodding, Arthur still seemed pensive. "That's what Albus told me."

"If you knew that why did you make me repeat it?" Sometimes Snape could not understand these people and their motivations.

"Do you love him?" Arthur asked meeting his eyes.

Of all the ignominious questions, that had to be the worst. "Good Lord, Arthur, you know me. Would I put up with this crap for any other reason?"

The bleeding sod had the nerve to chuckle and Snape gave a brief thought of hexing him into oblivion. "I expect not. What I don't know, or understand, is how you can go from hating him one day, to loving him the next."

Snape wanted to point out that he'd never actually hated Potter. Well, he amended, not in many years. "The bond forced our enmity out. We were not given a choice. Now, what has grown is every bit as valid, as real, as what our hostility had previously been."

Arthur nodded and then was silent for a moment before asking, "You let it happen, didn't you?

His first thought was to deny the assumption, but to do so seemed to be denying Potter's importance to him, which he could not do. Still, part of him rebelled against the idiocy of answering such a personal question. 

In the end, however, he wanted at least one person to understand. He dropped his gaze to the sofa, running a finger along the seam. "I've always been alone. Over time, I'd convinced myself that I wished nothing more than that. It's easy enough to do when there is no hope of anything else."

"So when the possibility arose with Harry, you took it." Instead of the censure that Snape expected, Arthur's tone was soft with understanding.

Not looking at him, Snape nodded. "If there had been a choice, for either of us, I would not have sullied Potter with what I am." He held up his hand before Arthur could speak. "Don't say anything."

Arthur nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Snape continued, "Once my anger was gone, I realized the chance I had been given. I did not fight what came after." Intellectually Snape knew there was no fighting the bond, but he couldn't get past the fact that he hadn't tried. "I knew I had a chance for something... something I hadn't ever believed I would find." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to let the guilt go. "I know I don't deserve it, but I want it."

As he nodded again, Arthur's smile was compassionate. "Thank you. It eases my mind greatly."

"See if you can convince Molly of it." Snape let a wry smile form on his mouth. 

Chuckling, Arthur sat back in his chair, visibly relaxing. "She's tenacious when she thinks one of her chicks is threatened, isn't she? I'm still concerned about what will happen between you when school starts."

"Tenacious isn't the half of it." Snape smiled blandly. "As to school, I shall endeavor to treat Potter as I have in the past." It would never be the same. His only hope was that he could say the words and keep some of the affection out of his voice.

"It won't be easy," Arthur said, his expression a bit dubious.

"You have no idea how hard it will be." The idea of being deliberately cruel to Potter turned his stomach and he wondered how he'd ever done it in the past. "Only the thought of what might happen to him if Voldemort finds out allows me to do what I must."

Standing, Arthur looked down at him, his expression grave. "For all his power, and all he's been through, he's a young seventeen."

"I am well aware of that," Snape said. He'd bet he understood that better than anyone else. *****

Harry stepped back off the top landing, out of the shadow of the stairs. Putting a hand on the wall, he waited for the pounding of his heart to slow. Snape had implied that he loved him. Even though the bond had told him the same thing, he hadn't believed it, not really. He wasn't sure what to make of the strange conversation he'd overheard. It was possible that Snape had told Arthur what he wanted to hear to ease his fears. 

Maybe it wasn't true.

Although the bond seemed to insist it was true, Harry couldn't be sure. Everyone said what they thought was true, but Harry had been told enough lies in his life never to trust anything completely. Not until he could prove it, one way or another.

He sighed and went up the rest of the flights of stairs to Ron's room. 

"Where have you been, mate?" Ron asked as Harry came in.

"Downstairs, talking to Snape." Harry didn't have to force the yawn; he was dead tired and did not want to go into the rest of it. Even with Snape close to him, it didn't help the fact he hadn't slept well all week. "I needed to be near him."

"Why?" Ron put on the light and sat up. "I mean, why now? Something wrong?"

"No. Being next to him, touching him, makes me feel better." Harry wondered if that hadn't come out wrong. "I mean..."

"Oh. I know what you mean." He didn't sound like he understood, but that wasn't new, no one seemed to understand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Your father is downstairs vetting Snape." Harry was pleased that the Weasleys cared so much, but he wished he could make them understand. "Snape is a good man. I know he is. Why doesn't anyone else realize that?"

"You've got a different way of seeing him than the rest of us," Ron said, lying back down on his bed and pulling up the sheet.

Harry let out a breath and climbed into the other bed. "I need to get some sleep."

"Okay mate, if you want to talk..."

"I know where you are."

*****

Snape stayed another day and then left again, saying he had work to do. By the third day after Snape had departed, Harry was feeling much the same as he had after the third week at the Dursleys. Getting out of bed was a trial.

"Is it worse?" Ron's concern penetrated the fog of Harry's preoccupations with the pain he was in.

"It's okay." Harry tried to sit up and didn't make it, lying back down with a soft groan. The pain was similar to hunger, he thought, gnawing at his guts.

"Sure it is." Ron went to the door and called for his mother.

With a concerted effort, Harry pushed himself up again, using the headboard and pillow. He didn't want to make a fuss. "You don't--"

Mrs. Weasley came in, took one look at him and frowned. She put the inside of her wrist against his forehead.

"He doesn't have a fever, mum." Ron folded his arms over his chest. 

Harry let her bustle about for a moment, and then said, "I just need to--"

"See me, perhaps, Mr. Potter." Snape stood in the doorway. Even when he'd stayed with Snape, Harry hadn't seen him so disheveled. His hair was greasier than usual, and his clothes looked unkempt and slept in. 

To Harry, he looked fine. The relief was immediate and profound without even touching Snape. "Yes, please," he said, holding out his hand. "Are you okay?"

"I am." Snape moved across the room, to sit on the bed beside him. "It seems to affect you more than me for some reason."

Taking his hand, Harry noticed how stained his fingers were. "Been to school?"

"Preparing for the term." Snape nodded. "Classes start in a week."

"What are we going to do about this?" Molly asked. Harry had forgotten she was there at all.

"We're not going to do anything," Snape said acerbically. "However, I am going to take Mr. Potter back to school with me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Molly sounded disapproving of the idea. Harry, however, liked it a lot.

"Am I required to point out, yet again, that he was with me for several weeks this summer?" Snape's expression showed his annoyance.

"I'll be fine, Mrs. Weasley." He looked at her and saw her concern, wishing there was some way to have her to listen to him. "Professor Snape will take care of me."

The look on Molly's face said she wasn't convinced of that at all. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of--"

That did it. Harry moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and was blocked by Snape. "Let me get up."

"Not yet." Turning towards her, Snape snarled at her. "I have told you before--"

Molly didn't seem at all intimidated by him, indeed, she glared back. "I know what you've said, and what Arthur has said, but I can't believe you're not tempted by him."

"Mum!" Ron's face was red and he looked like he might have apoplexy. "I can't believe you would say something like that."

What did he think his mother was on about, Harry wondered. "Mrs. Weasley! Why can't you trust--"

"Quiet! Both of you." Molly glared them into silence. "This is between me and Severus."

"No it's not." Harry pushed and this time, Snape stood to let him up. Harry shakily stood and folded his arms over his chest, frowning at Molly. "It's between him and me."

"Harry," Molly started, sounding like she was trying to be reasonable. "Someone has to look out for you."

If she weren't Ron's mum, Harry would have given in to his outrage and started yelling. Since she was, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm hardly a child in need of a keeper."

Snape snorted at that.

Harry turned and pointed a finger at him. "Keep out of this, please."

"I think it concerns me as well, don't you, Mr. Potter?" Snape gave him an odd smile.

"What?" Harry could not place the look. 

"Nothing." Snape squeezed his shoulder and stepped back. "We should go soon. I have much to do at school. Shall I help you pack?"

Still looking unappeased, Molly shook her head. "I'm not sure--"

"Molly, I'm taking him with me to school." Snape was poised to say something scathing, and Harry put a hand on his arm. Snape took a breath. "I can assure you that there will be ample supervision."

"Anyway, I'm seventeen!" It annoyed him deeply that everyone seemed to think he couldn't take care of himself. He'd been doing it for a long time.

Ron laughed. "I don't think that's going to make much difference, mate."

"I guess not," Harry said, his shoulders slumping. Snape and Molly were trying to stare each other down and not paying him any mind. "That doesn't make it right."

Looked like Snape won this round. He turned away from Molly. "If you will all excuse us, I shall help Mr. Potter fetch his things."

Molly looked like she might object, but then glanced at Snape and thought better of it.

With Snape's help it took only a few minutes to pack his supplies, and books. Downstairs, he faced Ron, Molly, and Ginny.

"See you at school, mate." Ron said, knocking his shoulder into Harry's companionably. 

"Yeah." Harry smiled at Ginny. "Bye. See you in about a week."

She smiled back. "See you." 

He turned and hugged Molly. "Thanks for everything. Even though you're wrong about Professor Snape, I appreciate that you care."

She moved the fringe back from his face. "Most people care a great deal about you."

Shaking his head, Harry gave her a sad smile. "You're wrong. Most people haven't cared at all."

He turned away and took Snape's hand.