Disclaimer: I lay claim to nothing in the Harry Potter world, apart from this plot that I humbly lay before you.
A/N: This is my second attempt at a long fic. I had been writing my first attempt in a spiral bound notebook, because I find that when I physically write I can see it come to life better, can flip through the pages and find myself better acquainted with my story. However, my notebook was stolen from me and I never recovered it. So after a short period of mourning, I began anew, with a new plot, and I personally believe it to be a million times better than the first. I have been promising a longfic for a while now, and here it is! Enjoy, and, as always, please help me and review!
The knock was unexpected as Severus Snape sat in his dark, wing-backed chair looking over his latest potions journal. A second, hard rap sent him, mumbling, over to the door. He pulled the door open, getting ready to send the intruder on his way. Looking into the dim circle thrown by his porch light, he lost his words. A grim looking Kingsley Shacklebolt was holding on rather tightly to Harry Potter. The boy looked as if he had just lost his best friend.
"Severus," Shacklebolt greeted.
"Minister," Snape said stiffly, slightly inclining his head.
"May we come in?" Kingsley looked warily back down the street behind him.
Snape sighed, sensing an end to his rather pleasant evening. "Yes, of course," he said, standing to the side to let them pass.
Shacklebolt nudged Potter ahead of him, as if afraid the boy would bolt; Severus almost hoped he would. He shut the door behind them and stood for a second, hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. When he turned to face the room, Shacklebolt's eyes were trained on him. He glanced at Potter, who had his arms crossed, glaring at a point behind Snape. He swallowed hard at the sight of the green eyes, so like Lily's. One glance at the rest of the boy, however, and the sharp sting of dislike hit him. It was like James Potter standing in his living room. The thought made him clench his fists in anger. He reassembled his features into his usual mask of cool indifference.
"To what do I owe this...honor?" he asked, trying to keep the disdain from his voice.
"Greyback has come out of hiding. He is rounding up all of the Death Eaters we missed, as well as recruiting new forces. While we are not afraid at this point of another He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the threat to Mr. Potter is substantial." Snape nodded, not sure where he fit into this. "So we need someone to watch over him."
"I can watch over myself," Harry mumbled dejectedly, sounding as if he had fought this battle numerous times already.
"This is bigger than you, Potter. We ask that you help here, Severus. Very few people know of your return, and even fewer know your whereabouts. Most will look at Spinners End."
"You want me to look after him?" he asked incredulously.
"After the Great War, and everything with Albus..." he trailed off. Severus raised an eyebrow. "We know we can trust you to protect him. And his fame means nothing to you."
Snape couldn't deny the truth to the second half of his words. He sighed heavily, acknowledging that he couldn't well deny the Minister of Magic, no matter how ludicrous. "How long?" he asked, not caring now as to his tone of voice.
"Until we have found and apprehended Greyback and all of his followers."
"I do not see any choice in the matter," he said venomously.
"I knew you would oblige," Shacklebolt said stiffly, showing his dislike for the man for the first time. A quick grin flitted across Potter's face.
Scowling, Severus put a cap on his temper and said "Very well. I trust that is all?"
Shacklebolt shifted uncomfortably. "Just the quick ceremony and I'll be on my way."
"What ceremony?" Snape growled, voice dangerously low.
"The bonding ceremony," Shacklebolt answered.
"No. Definitely not. I already agreed, did I not?"
Harry grimaced up at the Minister. "Told you this was a bad idea, and not just because I personally think he's a slimy old git," he said, as if Snape were not standing two feet from him.
Shacklebolt glared at them both. "This is necessary, Severus. I need something more than your word. Now, gentleman, please, this is going to happen," he said forcefully.
"Like hell it is," Snape spat.
"I'm actually with him on this one," Harry added.
"It is," for the first time since arriving, Shacklebolt raised his voice menacingly.
Severus sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through his hair. "Which ceremony?" he asked, tired.
"You will be more of bond-mates than the traditional spouse."
"Ah," Snape said quietly. It was a ceremony usually used for alliances of power rather than love. More powerful, and damn near impossible to get around.
"What does that mean?" Potter asked, sounding like a whiny school boy.
Shacklebolt sighed impatiently. "It is more like an Unbreakable Vow than a wedding service. Basically the same commitment, but there's no easy way out."
"Great," Potter mumbled under his breath.
"Well, let's get to it than," Kingsley straightened and withdrew his wand. "Alright, clasp your wand hands together."
Severus stiffly held out his right hand to the boy, who stood still, glaring at him. "Harry," Kingsley prompted. They stood, waiting, as Harry remained unmoving. Snape's eyes hardened as he reached out and roughly drew Harry's hand to him. He jerked the boy forward with the force and glared at the green eyes as he held his forearm tightly. With his left hand he wrapped the slender fingers of Harry's hand around his own wrist. Without looking away from the brat, he growled "Proceed."
"You seem awfully eager," Harry said, voice full of malice, the fight returning to his eyes.
"I do not have the irrational sense of being better and above the Minister, Potter. That is the difference."
Harry snorted once. "Right. You aren't Mr. High-and-Mighty at all."
"You are pretty high in your limelight, are you not? Do you find the view is any better?"
"Because I want to be this famous," Harry said, voice thick with sarcasm.
Now it was Snape's turn to snort. "I don't-"
"Enough!" Shacklebolt yelled. "Continue this later, if you must, but I have a whole ministry to get back to. I can do this the hard way if I have to. I may be your friend, Harry, but I'm the Minister first. Now, behave. Both of you."
Harry glared hard at Snape, who returned the stare steadily. Shacklebolt placed his wand tip on their clasped arms and Severus shifted his gaze to the man.
"We'll go with you first." Snape nodded. "Repeat after me, please. I, Severus Snape, pledge myself over to Harry Potter."
Snape repeated reluctantly, and a strand of pale green light wove around their hands. "My actions will be for his well-being and I will do all I can to keep him safe until all threats are eliminated." A second, silver strand came from the Ministers wand. "This is my vow."
"This is my vow," the silky voice swore. The two strands glowed white and grew warm. After Harry had made the same vow - with considerable force from Shacklebolt - and red and gold strands had wound themselves with the others, all four grew hotter and brighter, until suddenly they vanished.
"That's it?" Harry asked. Shacklebolt excused himself and rushed out the door, thanking Severus. Snape fell into his chair and summoned a glass of firewhiskey.
"That's it?" Harry asked again, unbelieving.
"It?" Severus rounded on him. "That's it? Do you understand nothing? We've just handed our lives over. We break that vow, we die," he said, bitter. Harry said nothing. "Yes. That's it."
"Only until Greyback is found and taken out," Harry stated, as if it were really that simple.
"Which could take years. He hasn't been caught yet because he doesn't want to be. He's more clever than anyone thinks."
"It's not like I wanted this either." he said defensively.
"That makes me feel so much better."
"Oh, shove off, Snape."
"Gladly," he stood up and downed the rest of his drink. "Sleep where you want. Just don't ruin anything," he strode over to a door off of the main room, just to the side of the fireplace.
Harry sighed and sat down as the door clicked shut behind the older man. He couldn't believe this. He had defeated Voldemort for Merlin's sake! He shouldn't be being treated like a child anymore. And of all people, why Snape? Everyone knew of their animosity towards one another. He had heard of the mans survival, of course - there were very few social circles that Harry was not privy to - he had simply not cared either way. He was grateful for all the risk and effort on Snape's end, but to him that simply negated all the years of detention, deducting points and humiliation.
He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair; He hadn't had a chance to shower yet today. Kingsley had arrived at his front door at an ungodly hour, demanding that he come with him. After a full day spent at the Ministry, left frustratingly out of the proceedings that had everything to do with him, he was informed of the plan, and promptly taken by the arm and apparated to the end of Snape's dimly lit street.
He sighed, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had arrived. The room was of a medium size, nothing too modest. But than again, the whole house was rather small. Harry supposed it was perfect for the secluded old ex-Potions Master. The couch he was seated on was a dark brown leather, and the wing-backed chair that was apparently Snape's was jet black. The hardwood floors were scuffed and scratched, but clean enough, and the throw rug under the coffee table sitting in front of Harry was worn and faded. All of the furniture was made of a dark wood, and devoid of any personal trinkets of any kind. A solitary lamp cast an eerie glow from the side table beside the arm chair.
Harry stood up and crossed to turn the lamp off. He trudged back to the couch, banging his leg loudly on the corner of the coffee table. He swore once as he rubbed the spot just underneath his knee as it began to throb. A muttered 'Lumos' lit up the room so he could make his way back, accident free. As he laid down on the couch, the door to Snape's room opened, and the tall wizard strode out and past Harry. He listened as Snape clattered around in the kitchen, getting a drink of water.
"Insomiac, too? This'll be fun," Harry shot at him as he passed by again.
"Light sleeper," he answered simply, never even turning to Harry as he continued on his way. He stopped in the doorway to his room. "Try not to run into my furniture anymore. Not only did I instruct you not to ruin my things, it makes it incredibly difficult to get any sleep. And Merlin knows, dealing with you, I will need all that I can get." And with that, he closed the door behind him, leaving Harry to a dark, empty room.
He awoke to a pillow and blanket being dumped unceremoniously onto his chest. He opened his eyes groggily, grumbling his annoyance.
"For your 'well-being'," Snape said mockingly, walking away with a mug of coffee.
Harry sighed heavily and shoved them off of him, sitting up. He looked to the chair as Snape sat down, glaring as best he could for being up less than five minutes.
"Thanks," he said, intending to match the man in his sarcasm. All that came out, however, was a half-hearted croak. He cleared his throat as the older man smirked.
"Clean that up," he nodded to the pile of discarded blankets.
Harry glared at him for a few more seconds before picking them up and stacking them on the couch, next to the armrest. He rubbed a hand over his face and retrieved his glasses, trying to ignore the man looking disgustedly at him. "I haven't even done anything," Harry mumbled, defensive.
"Anticipation is the worst part," came the quick reply.
Harry rolled his eyes and got up, wandering through the living room and making his way towards what he hoped was the kitchen. He walked into the small, tiled room and sighed. He looked in the fridge, and than the pantry, finding no acceptable food.
"Please, do help yourself," Snape said from the doorway, sounding annoyed.
"Hey, what's mine is yours, partner," Harry smirked. "What's in here?" he asked, looking at a door off in the corner of the room. He could see no doorknob, and it didn't open when he pushed on it.
"Nothing of concern to you," Snape said coolly as he poured himself another cup of coffee.
Harry turned and leveled the man with a stare. "After six years as my teacher, have you not learned I am nothing if not stubborn?"
"Stubborn? No. Exceedingly spoiled, yes."
Harry shrugged. "Either way."
Snape sighed. "It is my private stock and study. It opens only for my touch, so don't waste your time trying to steal anything else."
"Anything else? I haven't even been here 24 hours."
"Gillyweed, several expensive polyjuice ingredients..." he trailed off.
"That was second and fourth year!" Harry exclaimed. "And it wasn't even me."
"Of course it wasn't."
"Hermione got the ingredients for the potion. And Dobby stole the Gillyweed, thanks." Harry shot at him defensively.
Snape waved this away, and walked back into the living room. Harry grumbled and picked out a box of bland-looking cereal. He dumped five heaping spoonfuls of sugar on top and retreated back to his couch. Snape was seated in his chair, coffee in one hand, Daily Prophet in the other. Harry sat down and began eating morosely, thinking about how soon he would go crazy living with this prick. He gave himself a week. He pushed the remaining cereal around his bowl, clinking the spoon on the sides. An impatient sigh sounded across from him. He looked up to find Snape staring at him over the top of his newspaper.
"Is it necessary for you to make noise incessantly?"
Harry scowled, putting his bowl down on the coffee table. "Why did you agree if you don't even have anywhere for me to sleep?" he asked grumpily.
"I had no choice. And I do have somewhere for you to sleep. You're sitting on it," he said nonchalantly, never looking up from his paper.
Harry grumbled but a tap on the window to his left cut off his reply. He glanced over and saw his snowy white owl peering in at him.
"Hedwig!" he exclaimed, smiling for the first time since he stepped onto the porch steps. He jumped up to let her in, laughing when she nibbled his ear and hooted affectionately. "I missed you too, girl," he patted her head and untied the parchment tied to her outstretched leg. Harry unrolled the letter and smiled wider, recognizing Hermione's neat handwriting.
"I'm going to the Burrow this weekend," he announced, scanning the contents of the letter.
"No, we're not," Snape said dismissively.
"I don't believe I remember inviting you,"
"It is automatic, Potter. Thanks to our vow. And we're not going."
"Our vow does not say we are to be inseparable," Harry countered.
"Say something were to happen to you while we are apart. Than I have not done all in my power to keep you safe, as I was not there in the first place should the need arise. Effectively breaking my vow. Going to the Weasleys is not worth giving up my time. Or life," he explained with an air of impatience.
"Depends who you ask," Harry mumbled. Snape rolled his eyes and ignored the comment, leaving Harry to sit glumly and idly pet Hedwig. "Please, come on. Just for the weekend," he pleaded, unable to stay silent.
"No."
"Saturday."
"No, Potter. Leave me alone."
Harry harrumphed and laid back into the couch, crossing his arms and pouting. He chewed the inside of his lip and stared across at the dour old man. He narrowed his green eyes and waited. The onyx eyes glanced up once, and returned to his paper. Harry kept his gaze steady. Snape glanced up again, feeling the boys gaze fixed on him. He grumbled and tried to ignore him, shifting to read the next article.
"What?" he finally snapped.
"Dinner."
"I said no."
"I say yes." Harry countered. "I'll go without you. Knowing you, there'll be no threat to your safety seeing as you don't leave this damn house, so I'll be fine when it comes to the vow. I'm going. With or without you."
"And what makes you so sure of my agenda?"
Harry snorted. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you have no life. I'm goingto the Burrow. And I'm going to see the Weasleys, whether you come or not."
Snape glared icily at him. "You are not."
"I am. And I'm staying the whole weekend," he spat back. "Shall I decide to come back at all."
"You think I won't come for you?"
"If you'd be able to find me. I could be anywhere by the time you walked through the front door." Harry grinned wickedly, smelling his victory.
There was no way Snape could deny the truth to his words. He'd bet the wizard had been planning on him not having the guts to fight him. What he didn't plan on, however, was the (sometimes foolish) Gryffindor bravery, and Harry's fiery desire to leave this house. He wasn't his professor anymore, he couldn't deduct house points, nor could he give him detentions. Harry's smile faltered as he thought of what he could do now that they were forced together. He swallowed once and steeled himself. He didn't care. He wasn't going to let the git run, or ruin, his life.
"Dinner," Snape bargained.
"Saturday," Harry countered.
Snape growled. "You push my buttons, Potter. I should just kill you myself."
Harry blinked once.
"Saturday," he agreed, voice filled with more venom than he had ever heard before.
"Thanks," Harry smiled sweetly. "Honey," he added, savoring the expression on Snape's face.
He got up quickly and darted the hexes aimed at him, making his way to the bathroom to take a shower, reveling in his first victory.