It had been two weeks since they'd reluctantly (very, very reluctantly) begun sharing a bed. Harry still hated it, more than he had when it had first been "suggested". Not only was it actually helping, with the pain dulled during the day thanks to their shared nights, but he slept free of nightmares. The problem was, neither of these things occurred simply by touch. In fact, he'd woken up every single morning the last two weeks completely ensconced by, and entangled with, the Potions Master's long, pale limbs. And it was impossible to say which of them was at fault, since they were almost every time in the precise middle of the bed.

A better man might be willing to admit that they both, perhaps, were contributing to their entangled state. Harry was not that man, and he laid blame solely with Snape. It was among the most unpleasant ways to wake up, in the arms of the man he despised.

"Potter!"

Harry leapt, toppling the card tower he'd been building. He really wished Snape would stop doing that. Or, at the very least, that he'd make some sort of sound in warning whenever he entered a room. Not for the first time, Harry considered using their shared bed space to his advantage and tying a bell around the man.

"I've found a solution to your sleep problems," Snape said, coming into the room.

Harry scowled. "My sleep problem. What about yours?" He mumbled under his breath.

"Here."

Harry looked up in time to see a flicker of reflected light. He snatched whatever it was out of the air and held it up curiously. It was a gold ring with runic inscriptions. With a scoff, he looked up at Snape, who was as stone-faced as ever.

"You're proposing?" He asked sarcastically.

Snape sneered. "I would never," He swore. "It's not a cure, but I've infused that ring with my magical essence. It should allow you to be without me, so long as we continue to spend a few hours together each day."

Harry frowned and looked again at the ring. Cautiously, not entirely trusting the man not to trick him, or curse him further, he slipped the ring onto his finger. A small stone as black as Snape's eyes was inset and began to glow a bright crimson. After a minute, the glow vanished and Harry felt a wash of relief as his pain vanished as suddenly as it might if he were in contact with the Potions Master. He looked up and managed a reluctant smile.

"Thank you," He told the man, completely serious. "I don't suppose this means I can leave?"

"No," Snape answered, curling his lip. "If you were listening, I said we must still spend a few hours together each day. As I have no plans of commuting to the Weasley homestead every day, I'm still stuck with you."

"As if I haven't been a model house guest," Harry argued. Snape scoffed and turned to sit down in a comfortable chair. Harry stood angrily from where he'd been kneeling in front of the low coffee table. "You can't even admit it when the evidence is right in front of you!" He shouted. "I clean, I cook, I rarely argue with you, and it's still not enough! Nothing will ever make you see me as anything but my bastard father!"

"Potter, calm down," Snape said.

"I won't!" Harry shouted, stomping his foot. "You hate me for something I didn't even do! It isn't my fault she died! It isn't my fault that my father was a bully and an idiot!" Tears sprung into his eyes, but Harry swiped them away. "You blame me for everything and you don't even know me! You're just like every other hero-worshipping pansy out there! Nothing I ever do will be good enough!"

"Potter!"

"No! You treat me like shit, and then you get pissed when I have the nerve to defend myself! It isn't fair! You never even gave me a chance! Everything I've done, all my accomplishments…they're nothing!" Harry collapsed back to his knees, his hands folded in his lap as he bowed his head. Tears flowed freely over his cheeks as he sobbed. "I screwed up, okay? I tried to be something my parents could be proud of, but I cower under the hands of Muggles. I defeated the Dark Lord, but for what? His prejudices live on in people like you and Malfoy. Nothing I do fixes anything. Nothing I do will change the way people see me."

Snape sighed. "Potter…"

Harry sniffled. "It isn't fair." He stiffened when long fingers touched his shoulder, then glided along his back to wrap around his shoulders.

"I do see you, Potter," Snape murmured, surprisingly soothing.

Harry felt warmth blossom in his chest, but he shoved it away as violently as he shoved Snape away. "Get off me," He snarled. "You'll never see anything but a miniature James Potter, and you'll never be anything but a bully. I hate you."

Snape looked surprised, and Harry thought he might see hurt buried deep in the black eyes. He didn't care. He stood up and ran. Instead of going to the bedroom he'd been given, the one he'd never really used, he made for the front door. Once he was outside in the sunlight, he relished in his freedom and made for broke down the street. He didn't care where he was going, he just wanted to get away. After running for what seemed an eternity, he found himself on a barren hill that looked down on the neighborhood. He glanced back as he clambered up the steep grade, and saw Snape standing on his front stoop. His voice carried on the wind, and Harry heard the whisper of his name. He scowled and turned back to climbing the hill.

At the top, Harry found a large rock perfect for sitting and soaking up the sun. He sat atop it and looked down on the neighborhood. He could see into most every garden, and he watched as Snape's neighbors scurried about. He glowered at the dark shape he recognized as his professor at the bottom of the hill, his house set apart from the rest of the neighborhood. After a moment, Snape gave up looking for him and went back into his dilapidated home. Harry saw the house frame rattle with the force with which Snape had slammed his front door.

'Let the man be angry,' Harry thought. He hadn't said anything that wasn't the truth. He hated Snape for what the man stood for, and for the way he'd treated him from the day they'd met. Nothing in their history suggested Snape was a good man. The bastard had even treated others poorly, just for associating with the Boy Who Lived. It was impossible to forget the hurt on Hermione's face when Malfoy had cursed her teeth to grow huge and Snape had dismissed her with a cruel joke. Or the dozen detentions Colin had been forced to serve for defending his little brother from a bunch of Slytherins. Or the poor grading Luna and Ginny had been faced with, despite doing well in Snape's class. The man was as much a bully as James Potter had ever been, and for what? Because he'd faced a little hardship as a kid? As if he was the only one who'd ever been humiliated, or beaten bloody.

Harry threw himself back on his rock and stared at the sky. It seemed like the sun never shown on Spinner's End. It was a miserable place, and he hated being trapped here with the one prick who couldn't make it any better. The only thing was, he wasn't quite prepared to run away. Something had happened to him. Whether it was some mythical true love potion or a fairy curse, whatever it was left him in pain when he wasn't around Snape. He was only a mile or two away from the git, and even with his new ring he could feel the pain dully pricking at the center of his chest. He couldn't imagine how much pain he'd be in if he took off for the Burrow, which was a lot farther.

Harry sighed as he watched the immovable clouds above him. He missed his friends. He'd written them almost daily, and they had so far replied as frequently, but he didn't think that would continue much longer. Hermione was already at the Burrow for the summer, since she hadn't wanted to go to Poland with her parents, and Ron was already asking Harry's advice on making her his girlfriend by summer's end. No doubt, once the blessed event finally happened, their letter writing would taper off with other things, namely each other, to occupy their minds and time.

After a few hours, Harry sat up. His back clenched rebelliously and he stretched to try to relieve the cramped muscles near his lower spine. The muscles refused to be relieved, and he breathed shallowly to lessen the pain. If it weren't for the growing discomfort in his chest, he would take more time to halt the discomfort in his back. However, little tendrils of crimson had begun to leap off the onyx stone in his new ring, and the stab in his chest was growing in pressure with a promise of real pain. Clenching his teeth, he slid off his rock, gasping in pain when the landing tweaked his back. Carefully so as to not provoke another spasm, he began to pick his way back down the hill that had seemed so much smaller at the bottom. Using the little tufts of long grass as footholds, he half-climbed, half-slid down the hillside, a hand at his back where the worst cramp had formed.

Finally, Harry reached the bottom. Limping along, he moved back in the direction of Snape's house. And, of course, halfway there the near-constant clouds opened up suddenly. By the time he'd made his painful way back to Spinner's End, he was drenched from head-to-toe. Shivering and soaked, he paused before the peeling front door. Snape was going to be a nightmare.

As suddenly as the rain had started, the door opened. Snape stood looking as surprised as Harry, wearing a long, black trench coat and holding an unopened umbrella. Harry recovered first and frowned. Had Snape been coming to look for him? Then the man recovered, and black eyes wrinkled in an angry scowl.

"Potter!"

Harry managed a shy smile. "Funny thing-"

"Get inside!" Snape interrupted with a deep growl.

A long fingered hand reached out and dragged Harry into the house.

"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed as he stumbled into the sitting room. "Hey!" He rounded on Snape, who'd slammed the front door and was in the midst of taking off his coat, his umbrella already back in its place in the wrought-iron stand by the door.

"Fire, now," The Potions Master snapped, pointing sharply towards the couch in the sitting room.

With a scowl of his own, Harry stomped soggily over to the fireplace and grabbed his wand from the coffee table where he'd left it. Man, he was really in for it. Mumbling under his breath about almost being a fully-fledged adult, he poked his wand at the logs in the fireplace. A fire burst to life in the grate, and Harry set his wand aside as he sidled closer to the desperately needed warmth.

"What were you thinking?!" Harry didn't look away from the dancing flames. "You're in an unfamiliar neighborhood, you left your wand…! You could've been killed, or kidnapped!"

Harry scoffed. "I wish."

Snape growled loudly, and then Harry felt himself being lifted off the floor by the back of his shirt. He was tossed backward into a chair, which rocked violently, threatening to topple over. He grimaced as his back gave an unwelcome stab of pain.

"You foolish, selfish boy!" Snape snarled, leaning over him angrily.

Harry pushed himself to the edge of the armchair. "You're just angry because you didn't want to have to explain to Dumbledore that you'd lost his precious soldier!" He shouted. "Admit it!"

"I was worried about you, you idiot!" Snape fired back.

Harry froze. "What?"

Snape straightened, looking away evasively. "A moment of insanity, to be sure."

"Whoa, hold up, time out," Harry said smirking as he crossed his hands. "You were worried? About me? Since when?"

Snape finally looked at him. "Grow up, Potter. The world is not so black and white as you think it is. Get upstairs and take a hot shower. You're dripping all over my floor."

Frowning, but happy for a reason to escape, Harry stood and shifted around Snape. He moved to the open secret door and bounded up the stairs to his room. As he gathered together fresh clothes and toiletries, he did his best not to think about what Snape had said. It was just like a Slytherin to try to play mind games. Hot water, at least, seemed to help his aching back, if not his tumultuous thoughts.

As he warmed up under the hot spray of the shower, he finally acknowledged that he was being unfair towards the man. Yes, he was a git, and yes he had done horrible things over the years, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of worry, or remorse, whichever the case may be.

After dressing in fresh clothes, Harry headed back downstairs. He found Snape in the sitting room, reading the Daily Prophet in his usual chair. With a sigh, Harry moved into the room and began to gather together the cards he'd scattered a lifetime ago. He paused when he saw a small green phial atop some of the cards on the coffee table. It had a note that merely said 'for your back, idiot boy'. A glance at Snape said the man was paying him no mind. With a shrug that tweaked his back, Harry quaffed the potion. He felt immediately better as, not only the cramp, but all of the tension in his muscles dissolved. He turned back to the task of gathering his cards, after setting the empty phial aside. When they were all collected, he turned to the Potions Master. Swallowing his pride, he drew a deep breath.

"I'm…sorry," He said, trying to hide a grimace. "Thank you for worrying about me."

Snape didn't look up from his paper. "Do not mention it, Potter."

Harry sighed, and looked at the cards in his hands. An idea blossomed. "Would-would you like to play Liverpool Rummy with me?"

Snape glanced over his paper and Harry offered up a shy smile. "I have never played." The man said with finality.

"Oh," Harry murmured, deflating as he looked away from the black gaze. "Okay. It was just an idea."

There was a shuffle of paper, and then a nasal sigh. "However," Snape said. "I am not opposed to learning."

Harry looked back up with a wide grin. "Great!"

Snape slowly began to fold his paper, and Harry got up from where he'd been kneeling on the floor. Setting his cards aside for the moment, he began to push the long, wooden coffee table closer to where the older wizard sat. He sat atop the opposite end of the low table and began to shuffle the cards, explaining in detail how the game was played. He glanced up at Snape, who was listening raptly while watching his expert shuffling. It suddenly occurred to him that, just maybe, in the very depths of the man's character, maybe Snape wasn't all bad.