Hey lovelies, wanted to thank you for all the continued interest in this. It makes me so happy to see your thoughts on the chapters so please keep them coming!

I hope you're not getting bored with the fights, I tried to make them exciting and a little bit different every time. We are slowly getting to the good parts, the boys are warming up to each other, so hold on a little longer!

VI: Bruises

It wasn't cheerful. It was strenuous and occasionally almost scary. Snape's magic wasn't just uncontrolled, it seemed wild, seemed to fight Harry just as Snape did, as if it gained its powers from Snape's hatred, but acted as a separate entity. It was almost like fighting two different persons; one who was happy to get over with this as fast as possible, and one who enjoyed every fight, relished them the more intense they had become and wielded the magic of Hogwarts. This last part made it rather hard on Harry, but he held on – for now.

Thankfully, they did not have to meet often. Sometimes, even a week went by before Snape called upon him. Their fights were quick and unpleasant, ending in bruises more often than not, which later on Snape would heal. Harry developed a weird habit of not telling Snape about a small injury so that, he could feel it after they parted. He didn't understand why he was doing it, but then once, when they were spending some time private, Ginny asked about it and Harry had to word his reasoning.

"I thought he heals you," she said, pointing at the slight discoloration around Harry's ribs. He was half naked, and they had been making out in an unused classroom late at night.

Harry just shrugged, "If you don't feel it afterwards, it's like it didn't even happen."

Ginny gave him a weird look, so Harry had to further explain.

"You know I can't tell you much, but… I don't want to forget how important this is. I owe him too much for that."

She seemed to accept that, if not even understand it completely. She kissed the purpling bruise, dragging her tongue across the sensitive skin. She was gentle enough not to hurt Harry, but she continued her tender caresses. Harry could suddenly feel her lips on his throat, trailing the line of his neck down again. Once she found his collarbone, a spot well-hidden usually by Harry's shirt, she sucked in the skin.

"Bloody hell, Gin," Harry grunted, his hips bucking up right away.

She smirked as she said, "Some more marks that should remind you of the import things…"

Harry just smiled wickedly as he turned them over. He made sure to leave plenty of small marks for her to feel in the days to come.

With a hand down in her panties, he kissed her soft lips. Her hands were on Harry's arse, gently touching, and rubbing. He felt excited enough, but they couldn't risk going further, besides, he didn't want to be with Ginny in a dusty classroom for the first time. She deserved better. Yet as he lay on top of her, all he could think about was how much he wanted more, he wanted to feel closer to her. She felt so hot and wet down there. The needy sounds she was making, her flowery scent, her soft hair in Harry's hand – she was so perfect.

When she came, she bit down on Harry's shoulder making sure to press her teeth down hard. It made Harry feel marked.

"You better not heal that either, Harry," she said quietly as she sat up, pulling back on her bra and t-shirt.

"What?" Harry laughed, taking a look at the little red mark.

"I hate seeing marks on you that Snape made."

"God, Ginny, what are you talking about? This is not a love bite," Harry said pointing at the bruises on his ribs.

She sighed then looked at him apologetically. "I know. I guess I'm just jealous. With Wallace and Snape, we barely have time for each other."

"Jealous?" Harry echoed. "Of Snape?" He had to laugh at that. "Now that's a joke." Then he pulled Ginny in for a hug. She could feel her soft breasts press against his chest and it made him even harder. They didn't have more time however, they were already way past curfew.

He gave her another kiss and her hand wandered down to his cock. He gave a nervous chuckle. "We don't have time," he breathed as she grabbed it.

"We never have time," Ginny said, her voice disappointed. She gave a couple more strokes to Harry's cock, but Harry pushed her away in the end.

"You'll drive me mad, if you keep doing that."

She shrugged, "You know where to find me if you need more."

As they went back to the Common Room, they found Hermione sitting there still. Ron was snoring next to her with a Charms book under his head. Hermione pressed a finger in front of her lips to signal them to be quiet.

"He did well today," she whispered quietly when Harry and Ginny came closer. She looked at Ron proudly. "He deserves a rest."

"You do, too," Harry said, sitting next to her, peaking into the book she was reading. It wasn't anything related to Charms, or any other of their lessons.

"What's this?" Harry asked. She gave him the book to read into, but didn't say a word, given Ginny was there.

She must have sensed that because instead of sitting down, she ruffled Harry's hair, gave a kiss on the top of his head then said, "I'm off to bed."

Harry watched her leave, but did not say a word to keep her there. He felt a pang in his belly, but then he turned to Hermione.

She was smiling supportively at him. "She understands it, Harry. It's very hard for her, but she tries her best to give you space."

"I hate keeping secrets from her, but I promised Snape and McGonagall." Harry said quietly.

"You told it to us."

"It's different, Hermione. You've been with me through everything, you even know about Snape and my mom. I tell you guys everything."

"You could be honest with her, too." Hermione answered. "It's not like she's going to sell it the Prophet."

"I know!" Harry said quickly, because he knew he could trust Ginny. Yet… "I know, I just want…" He leaned back on the soft sofa and sighed. "I don't want her to worry about me. I want to keep her out of all this. She's so… perfect. And I want her to stay like that. Telling her all this now, feels like tainting her."

"She's a person, Harry, not an idea. She's not perfect. None of us are."

"She is to me," Harry said.

Hermione sighed then patted his thigh gently. "Let's talk about the book?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, please."

"All right," she chuckled. "So, it's not very informative, it is more about accidental magic during childhood and the consequences of repressing magic as a child. What's happening with Snape is different, though. If what they believe is true, and Hogwarts did give him back more magic, the solution is simple. He needs to learn to control his magic again."

"Hermione," Harry said. "You haven't seen that magic… It's… more powerful than anything I've ever seen."

"That might be," Hermione answered. "But it doesn't matter. There are instances when a wizard or witch has to adapt to new powers. When you became the Master of the Deathly Hallows was one instance. Other is when people use potions to gain more magic or energy. It is dangerous, but it can be done."

"The Hallows never had such powers." Harry stated.

"They had, but you're still young and you adapted to the change easily. Besides, you don't use the Wand. Professor Snape does not have a wand he can just put down and not use when the magic is too much to control."

"So how can he gain control?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

"I touch you." Ron said quietly from the couch.

They both looked at him, and he yawned loudly. "When I'm hungry, excited or too anxious, and can't concentrate, I touch you. Like, just your hand… you have really soft hands. But focusing on something else, helps me."

"Thank you, Ronald, that's a very weird example but…" Hermione thought for a second then shrugged. "Not a bad idea."

"Can we go to bed now," Ron yawned again.

"So what, if Snape can focus on something else other than his magic while we fight…"

"You might not even need to fight."

"That would be nice," Harry said. "He almost beat me to it a couple of times. He's just so angry."

"We're here for you, Harry," Hermione said, patting his leg. "We'll practice with you, like we did before the Triwizard Tournament.

Ron's head fell back to the pillow. "Oh great, this time, I'm not just going get stunned, am I?" He groaned. "It will be a lot worse."

"But you'll help?" Harry asked his best friend.

"Who wouldn't want to be beaten by Harry Potter, mate?" Ron grinned.

o.O.o

Harry sat at his desk, looking out at the cold November morning. A small mockingbird was jumping around in front of him on the table, chirping. It used to be a hedgehog, but now Harry had successfully transformed it.

The classroom was very noisy now, as birds of all kinds were flying and chirping all across it. Most of the students, like Harry, managed to turn their four-legged mammals into birds, but there were still some kittens, rats and badgers running around.

The lesson was almost over, McGonagall was giving out some last-minute extra homework for those who failed the transformation. For this once, Harry could lean back and relax.

As he watched the cloudy sky, he realized how much he missed flying. His broom was under his bed, untouched for months now. Every time he would reach for his Firebolt, Ginny or someone was right beside him, asking to go flying together, or play Quidditch. Though Harry missed the sport, now that he wasn't in the team, it did not mean that much to him anymore. He still visited the games of course, with Ginny as the captain of the Gryffindor team, there wasn't even an option not to go.

Yet he wished for something else. He wondered, looking at the little mockingbird what it would feel like to fly without aid. To be out there and fly as fast as his own body could drive him and not just as a broom was capable.

The idea lingered in the back of his head for almost a week. He couldn't stop staring at songbirds around the forest and watched mesmerized the owls that came to the Great Hall every morning, carrying letters.

After their next Transfiguration lesson, he gathered his courage and stayed behind.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall said as she placed the birds they had worked on back into their cages.

"I was wondering, Professor, what does it take for someone to become an Animagus?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, but she seemed to take Harry seriously. Before she answered, she collected all the birds, she sat down and pointed to a chair for Harry to take a seat as well.

"That depends, Mr. Potter. Generally, a lot of practise, and even more paperwork."

She regarded Harry for a couple seconds then asked, "Are you interested?"

"I think, yes, Professor." Harry answered.

"Animagic is a very advanced spell, Mr. Potter. More advanced than anything you are being taught here. That being said, I highly doubt it would take you more than a couple of months to achieve it. If you really put yourself to the task, that is."

"But for dad and Sirius, it took…"

"Years, yes." McGonagall nodded. "They were eleven years old when they started, and they did not have anyone to instruct them. You, Harry, are much older, experienced and powerful than your father or godfather ever was. And your powers will only grow, especially given your extra lessons with Professor Wallace and…"

"And the death-defying fights I have with Professor Snape," Harry supplied with a grin.

McGonagall huffed, but nodded. "Yes, indeed. Changing into an animal isn't hard. Changing back, however is more demanding and the reason why so many avoid this branch of magic entirely. Several wizards and witches have attempted Animagic improperly, and became stuck in their animal form, in the end forgetting even that they were once human. Which is why it is essential that you have an instructor, who can identify you and change you back if you have a problem doing it yourself."

"Would you help me, Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked tentatively.

"That depends, Mr. Potter. What kind of animal would you like to become?"

"I'm not quite sure yet," Harry said.

"It is subservient to choose a form based on what you would like to do. My cat form allows me night vision, excellent hearing and quiet movement, all very helpful during the first and second wars, not to mention all the other deeds Professor Dumbledore had me do. And it makes sneaking up on misbehaving children ever so easy, too." She added with a small smirk.

"I was thinking of something that could fly, Professor. An owl perhaps? Or a mockingbird."

"Owls are great creatures. They can fly many miles without needing to rest or to be fed. Mockingbirds I wouldn't recommend unless your aim here is to sing prettily."

Harry laughed, "No, I would like to fly,"

"You might want to look into eagles, falcons, or even pigeons. It is very important to have a clear image of what you want, before you even attempt transformation."

Harry nodded. "So, you'll help me?" He asked eagerly.

"No." McGonagall said and Harry's hoped plummeted. "My specialty is mammals. I could teach you to become a mammoth or a mouse but turning into a bird needs a different learning process. Besides, you'll need someone to teach you how to fly, as well."

"Oh," Harry said disappointed.

McGonagall studied her nails then asked nonchalantly, "Why don't you ask Professor Snape?"

"What?"

"His Animagus form is a bird, Harry. He could easily help you." Then her eyes caught something behind Harry and she tittered. "Speak of the devil."

Harry turned around and saw the glowing doe carefully step closer to them.

"Come with me," she said in Snape's deep voice, and Harry jumped from his seat right away.

"Be careful, Mr. Potter," McGonagall cried after him.

o.O.o

Once again, the doe led him back to that classroom where they had been when Snape had called for him for the first time. By now, Harry learned that they were near the Ravenclaw tower. Luckily, the whole corridor was old and unused. There was no one around even now, although it was in the middle of the day.

When he turned the last corner, he waved at the smiling witch wearing the blue dress in the painting. She waved back, blushing slightly. Harry figured she must have been a famous Ravenclaw from a long time ago. He didn't linger around, but went straight to the door and opened it.

"Wand," Snape urged him right away instead of a welcome, not that Harry needed a warning by now to pull out his wand. He attacked Snape before the man could even say another word.

Snape leaned away from Harry's spell, raising an eyebrow. Harry could all but see as the blue magic reared around him like an impenetrable force. Like a pet, who was ready to attack whoever dared hurt its master. The thought made Harry wonder, whether Hogwarts regarded a headmaster as that: its master. Or perhaps was it the other way around.

Then a spell grazed his arm, and he realized perhaps this wasn't the time to think about such theories.

"I need you to be better than this, Potter," Snape warned him as he twirled his wand in his hand.

Harry pulled up a shield and said, "I wouldn't like to be in the shoes of the person, who managed to piss you off this bad."

"Not that your situation is any better at the moment," Snape grunted as he hurled spell after spell at Harry's head. Harry pushed on his shield, as if throwing it towards Snape. The spells and the shield collided half way through and exploded like a bomb. Harry hoped for an effect like this, he was safe behind a table.

"You all right?" he cried, peaking over the edge.

Snape was standing in the rubble, dust settling around him. The turquoise light shimmered over his body, and Harry had a distinct feeling it was pleased. Snape, too, had a weird smile on his face.

"Fighting you is becoming more and more demanding, Potter," Snape said. "I know my aim is to exhaust myself, yet, I cannot deny, I feel a need to win."

Harry stood up, too, grinning. "You can certainly try." He said, then the next moment he sent the table flying at Snape's head. He felt like his childhood dream was coming true. He could curse Severus Snape as much as he liked, and he never got any detention for it.

His cockiness cost him dearly. Almost literally Snape turned the tables within minutes, and soon Harry found himself facing a chair that was flying towards him. He jumped out of its way, but behind it, half of a table was reaching him with alarming speed. He stepped back and fell, and the next moment his ribs were stinging like hell. He managed to hit the exact spot that was still bruised from a week ago, and the pain now all of a sudden was close to unbearable. Instinctively, he touched the spot making it even more painful and his wand fell out of his hand.

With that, his shield collapsed as well.

Eyes closed he waited for the crush, expecting the pain, but it never came. When he finally dared open his eyes, he saw the table, hovering inches from his face. It was simmering with blue light, too. Snape was reaching out towards it as if he had just caught it in the air, even though he was still several feet away. Then Harry watched as Snape threw the heavy wooden desk away like a plastic toy using only his magic.

"Wow," he breathed impressed, but the next moment even the blood froze in his veins.

Snape moved and instead of the table his magic grabbed Harry and tossed him against the wall. He could feel the electric power all around him making him unable to move. It was like resisting the pull of a magnet.

With a few steps Snape was in his face, lifting Harry's shirt.

He only looked at the purple bruises for a second, then his eyes were on Harry. There was a very dangerous storm in the dark gaze and being wandless, it was the first time, Harry truly felt afraid of Snape.

"What's this?" Snape hissed. Electricity cracked around him, zapping Harry, too. It wasn't painful, just very uncomfortable.

"It's nothing."

Snape's magic reared again, and Harry felt as he was pulled away from the wall a couple inches just to be thrown against it again.

Suddenly, where Ginny's mouth had been not long ago, now three cold fingers were digging into his bruised skin. Snape's touch burned Harry's skin and he cried out, trying to jerk away from the pain.

Snape didn't let him. Almost cruelly, he jabbed his finger in there even more.

"I knew it," he spat. "I did that last week."

"Get off me!" Harry snarled.

"Am I right, Potter?" Snape shouted threateningly.

"Maybe," Harry said, trying to get free. "I don't know."

Snape grimaced as if he could smell the bullshit on Harry.

"I asked you, Potter, and you said you were fine." He hissed in the end.

"I am fine," Harry said, angrily tossing his head left and right as right now that was the only part of his body he could move. Snape's magic like rope tied him down.

The three fingers jabbed into his ribs again and he cried out.

"You don't look fine to me!" Snape yelled. "You didn't look fine to me two minutes ago, when you were lying wandless on the floor a second away from a table going through your head faster than your thoughts!"

Harry stared at the black eyes and did not look away. Snape was taking deep breathes and soon, Harry could feel his magic recede like waves calming after a storm. Finally, he could move his arms and body, but there was still nowhere to go as Snape was towering over him.

"Why do you think I insist on healing you?" Snape asked in the end, his tone filled with quiet fury.

"I don't know," Harry said defiantly, knowing full well, that while during other times he could get away with a little cheek, this certainly wasn't one of those moments.

He almost expected it, when Snape grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, yet again. His physical strength was not much less intense than his magic.

"Because when you're injured, you're more prone to make mistakes, and I will not let your blood taint my hands, do you understand that, Potter?" He hissed inches from Harry.

By this point he was pulsing with magic which zapped Harry's skin every other second. Snape then turned around, picked up Harry's wand and pressed it against Harry's chest.

"I might feel the need to win, Potter. But I do not want to." He said. "Do you understand me?"

The next couple of seconds, Snape's meaning finally got to Harry, causing a low, sinking feeling in his belly. With cheeks warm with shame, he only said quietly, "Yes."

"Do you understand me?!" Snape bellowed at him again.

"Yes!" Harry yelled back, his anger suddenly equal to Snape's even.

The professor then marched across the room, cloak billowing and took up the duelling pose.

Ten minutes later it was all over. Harry fought as viciously as never before, using every nasty trick up his sleeves. Their fight had never been this savage, probably not even the one after Dumbledore's death.

By the time they finished, he was covered with cuts and bruises, but he was pleased to see, Snape didn't look any better. There was a bloody cut across his lower lip, and a longer, deeper one on his temple. As he was lying on the ground, the blood slowly trickled into his long, black hair. Harry could only guess just how many more injuries he was hiding under his robes.

He walked to his professor and fell on his knees, tired as if he had just been playing Quidditch for the whole weekend.

"Don't sleep," He told Snape who had his eyes closed. "We're not done yet."

Snape opened his eyes and Harry lifted his shirt.

Wordlessly, Snape sat up a little bit more, then touched the bruise again. This time the three fingers were gentle and careful, yet Harry still hissed.

"God, your hands are cold…" he murmured under his breath, but Snape pulled back his hands and rubbed them together a couple times. Afterwards, his touch still made Harry's skin burn and he looked down expecting to see blue lightning zapping between the fingers and his ribs, but there was nothing.

Snape examined his injury, then placed his whole palm across it. Harry watched as Snape closed his eyes, then breathed in slowly, concentrating. As he exhaled, an electric, warm sensation started spreading in Harry's body, starting from Snape's hand on his ribs. He could feel it brush harmlessly against his heart, spreading all around his body like fire that would melt the winter coldness in his bones.

Harry let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing. He was almost quivering.

"It doesn't hurt you, does it?" Snape asked in a low tone.

"No," Harry sighed, eyes finally opening. He looked down on his body, but there was no sign of any injury. No bruises, not cuts, nothing. He suspected even Ginny's love marks had disappeared. "Since when can you heal with only a touch?"

"Since now," Snape answered almost silently, as his head fell back against the wall. He looked utterly exhausted.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off the man. Such immense power, one had to wonder what effort it took for Snape to hold it in even now.

He conjured a small towel and dripped some water on it from his wand. He gently wiped it across Snape's bleeding scar and the fact that he didn't even flinch just his eyes opened up slightly showed how tired he must be.

Harry cleaned the scar, then healed it with a quick spell before it would start bleeding again. Then he carded his fingers through Snape's long hair, trying to feel the bloody spots and cleaned those, too. The long black tresses were ridiculously soft, like silk. Like Ginny's, almost even better.

A couple moments later, Harry caught himself staring at Snape's bloodied lips. His fingers were hovering just an inch above the pink flesh, and he had to shake himself to remember what he wanted to do. He took the corner of the wet towel and wiped the fresh blood from there too.

He felt the need the say something but at the same time, he enjoyed the comfortable silence.

"I guess, this isn't the right time to ask you to teach me Animagic." He murmured in the end.

Snape's lips quirked up under Harry's tending fingers. "Given our past endeavours, it would never be a right time to ask me to teach you anything. I don't know if you noticed, Potter, but we don't really get along well."

Harry shrugged, pulling his wand across Snape's lips, which seemed to part slightly at the foreign touch.

"It doesn't seem as bad anymore," he commented lightly. "Especially during our little… sessions."

"The aim of these sessions, as you call them, is that we fight. That would be the very thing we would need to attempt to avoid, were I to teach you anything. Besides, learning Animagic would require you to trust me. A highly impossible trait to achieve."

That made Harry laugh, and Snape finally opened his eyes and stared at him.

"I wouldn't be here, if I didn't trust you, Professor." He told Snape, looking into the cold black eyes.

"Still," Snape said sitting up, then standing, pulling Harry up as well. "I believe it would be more beneficial for you to ask Professor McGonagall."

"I already did. She said she can't help me, because I don't want to be a mammal."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I cannot help you."

Harry picked up his bag from the ground then walk to the door. "Don't worry, Professor," He smiled at Snape, despite feeling disappointed. "I understand. You have enough on your plate already."

He was almost out of the door, when Snape asked quietly. "What would you like to be?" There was something strange in his voice.

Harry turned back and as he said the words, he was entirely certain this was indeed what he had wanted from the beginning. "An owl, sir. A snowy owl, like Hedwig."

He left the room, giving a nod outside to the painted witch, then headed to his next lesson. He was very late from Potions, but he assumed Slughorn would be aware of the reason.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps from behind and he turned back. He had never seen Professor Snape ran after anyone.

"Mr. Potter," Snape called, then sighed. "Sunday evening, at seven o'clock, in my office. Be sharp, or you'll be turning into a clock and not an owl."

So yes, there will be animagic here as well. I took some liberty regarding its rules, dont sue me please. Are you excited? I do hope so, because this will be a lot of fun ;)