A/N: I am so glad you all liked the last chapter! I'd been itching to write it. This one took a little while because I had to get it just right. I hope everyone is pleased with it. Enjoy!

Harry had been thrown unceremoniously onto the sofa in Snape's sitting room. He was thankful it was soft, and that he had not yet been killed, hexed, or cursed. He had landed on his side and was now watching Snape pace back and forth in front of him, hands tearing at hair, looking quite deranged. Sparks were shooting out of Snape's wand, an indication of how much rage the man was harbouring.

Snape was muttering something. "…not true…maybe…wrong…"

Suddenly, Snape stopped pacing and turned to face Harry, pointing his wand straight at the cat.

This is it, Harry thought to himself, he's either going to torture me or I'm going to die.

Instead, however, Harry felt his body tingle and he began to transform back into his human self. He was still Petrified, however – figuratively and literally. The look of rage on Snape's face was joined by devastation.

"I trusted you!" Snape cried out, true pain evident in his voice. "I took you in! I fed you! I – oh God," Snape brought his hands back up to pull his hair, "I pet you! I touched you!"

Harry struggled against Snape's Petrificus Totalus spell. He desperately wanted to explain himself – although he hadn't the faintest clue how to do so. But he wanted to try.

"The things I told you," Snape had resumed pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hands holding the sides of his head as if he were suffering from a terrible headache. "The things you heard…the things you," Snape stopped and looked at Harry, his eyes widening in terror, "saw…"

Harry knew Snape was remembering the night he'd awoken to Harry on his pillow after he'd come calling Harry's name.

Snape suddenly stopped pacing and dropped his hands from the sides of his head. "No one will believe you," he whispered hoarsely. "The headmistress will never believe you…who did you tell? How many people know?"

The rage that had left Snape and been replaced with horror returned full force. "I thought I'd been wrong! I thought you were better than him! I thought – after what I saw – after what you saw – I never dreamed…" Snape lowered his voice to a deadly growl. "You are exactly like your father."

Harry thought he might be sick. He was struggling valiantly against the spell, growing more and more desperate to justify his actions, regardless of how unjustifiable they were.

"Of course," Snape sneered, "telling everyone about the 'greasy git' – about his personal life, his secrets…how perverted his mind is…how much of a pedophile he is…having a laugh while you taunted me, knowing it would be torture…yes, yes, just like your father! Forever thinking up new ways to torment those he felt were beneath him…"

"I came back!" Harry screamed at him, finally breaking out of the spell. His shout startled Snape enough to send the man stumbling backwards into the fireplace. "I came back after that night! I don't think you're a git, or a pervert, or a pedophile! And I never told anyone! Nothing! No one knew anything! I would never do that to you – to anyone – but definitely not you! I…"

Harry was silenced by a wave of Snape's wand. He advanced on Harry, "Don't. Lie. To ME."

Harry pressed himself back against the sofa, trying to create more space between himself and Snape.

"I refuse to believe you were not gloating every second, with every tidbit you gleaned from your spying," Snape was close enough to Harry that the spittle flying from his mouth was visible as it sailed through the air. "The punishment for being an unregistered Animagus is time in Azkaban," he said menacingly.

Harry's face paled. He hadn't known that. Or hadn't remembered it – he was sure he should have known it.

"What?" Snape mocked. "No breaking out of my spell to yell your defense? I shall take such pleasure from seeing you expelled from this school and rotting away in Azkaban for years."

Snape backed away from Harry, a look of pure hatred on his face. "You disgust me."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, unsure if he'd broken another spell or if Snape had freed him from it. "I'm so, so sorry. You're right. I do deserve Azkaban. And I do deserve to be expelled. I'll leave; I'll go finish at Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. You'll never have to see me again. I just…please believe that I didn't do it on purpose, and I didn't ever gloat. I didn't do it to be mean. It just happened. You found me that day and you were so nice to me, and I…you were so different when I was a cat. I started to like being around you. I didn't care about what I – saw," Harry hoped Snape knew he meant that night in the bedroom. "I didn't mean to torture you," Harry continued, amazed that Snape was letting him speak for so long. "I was stupid. It was stupid. I wasn't thinking. I never think. But all I cared about was that you were so nice to me, and I liked being able to comfort you. And – and I realized how much we have in common. I feel the same way – I know what it feels like to not have a purpose, to feel useless. I need someone who understands that – who understands me. When I was with you, I didn't feel so lost. I – I needed that."

A realization dawned on Harry. His thoughts flickered back to his conversation with Ginny so long ago. "I need you. You're what I need. I need someone who's been through what I've been through. No one else understands. Not really. I can't talk about these things with my friends. But you understand. I wanted to talk with you – I've wanted to for so long, but I knew you wouldn't – not to Harry. But you always talked to the cat. I swear – I swear I never meant to hurt you. I was stupid and childish and selfish, but I never meant to hurt you."

Snape looked like he had a war waging inside of him. His expression was an odd combination of disgust, a wounded animal, and relief.

"Please," Harry took advantage of Snape's silence. "Please forgive me. I'll go away, I'll leave. I'll go to Azkaban. You'll never have to see me again. Just – just please forgive me. Please believe me that I didn't do this on purpose."

There were several moments of silence, and then Snape sighed heavily and sat down in the armchair across from the sofa, defeated.

"Of course you're not going to Azkaban," he sounded resigned. "And you'll finish your year here. I've – you must know I've – I've no desire to see you leave," he finished, embarrassed.

Harry felt a surge of hope.

"You are the stupidest," Snape put his head in the hand that wasn't holding his wand, "most idiotic, imbecile…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, chancing a bit of levity. "I really don't know what you see in me."

Snape jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes, seemingly unsure if Harry was mocking him. Satisfied that Harry was being genuine, Snape asked, "It does not upset you, knowing that I – how I…"

"Not really," Harry admitted, "bit flattered, really. I mean, I don't deserve it – not at all, but it doesn't bother me." Harry folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "I was hoping – I mean, do you think I could still come see you? I meant it – about how I feel when I'm with you. I mean, I understand if you don't want to, but…I'd like to try and be friends. As people," he clarified, feeling like Snape and the cat were already friends.

"I'm not sure that's – wise…" Snape doubted.

"I promise I won't change the way I act around you in class or anything. And I'll never let anyone know that I come down here. And I'll never tell anyone how you act when you're alone. I just – I need someone who understands me."

Snape was silent for a while. Finally, he spoke, his chin resting in his hand and his finger touching his bottom lip, "Well, I suppose you will be seeing quite a lot of me."

Harry was puzzled, but hopeful.

"As you shall be spending detention with me every weekday evening for the foreseeable future," Snape pronounced.

Harry's face fell.

"Most of which will be spent studying for your exams and NEWTs," he clarified.

That made Harry feel a bit better.

"I should be most displeased if you were to be dropped from Potions," Snape added softly.

Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Surely that does not surprise you now?" Snape smirked.

"No – I just – I'll study hard, Professor. I'll pass. After all, I've got more incentive now," Harry smiled.

"Go back to your rooms, now," Snape stood and smoothed down his robes. Harry stood as well, and followed Snape to the office door, then to the door leading into the hallway. Snape opened the door for him and Harry transformed back into the cat and slipped out. He turned his head back around to look at Snape. "Oh," Snape drawled, "and fifty points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew." And before Harry could even growl, the door was slammed shut.

"Every night?!" Ron shouted across the table at breakfast the next morning. Heads turned from every direction at his outburst.

"Shhh!" Hermione swatted at him.

"No," Harry said solemnly, "I deserve it. I deserve worse, actually."

"What did you do, Harry?" Hermione said in her best teacher and/or mother voice.

"I can't tell you," Harry explained. "But it was bad. Bad enough that I'm lucky I'm not expelled. Or going to Azkaban."

"Blimey, Harry," Ron's eyes were wide. "What did you do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's just said he can't tell us."

"Oh, right," Ron nodded and took another bite of waffle.

"Do you think he'll make you serve detention even over the holidays while you're here?" Hermione asked him concernedly.

"Probably," Harry surmised. "But he did say most of the time I'd be studying for exams or NEWTs."

Hermione looked satisfied. "Well, that's all right, then. It'll be more like tutoring, most likely, and not so much detention."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry supposed, "but I'm sure I'll still be cleaning out my fair share of cauldrons."

"Well, hopefully you'll be done serving them before Quidditch starts back up," Ron said hopefully.

Harry groaned. He hadn't thought about that. "I doubt it," he admitted.

"Well, don't think about that now, you've got a while before things pick back up," Hermione reached across the table and patted his hand.

"You'll still be able to come to the Burrow for Christmas, though, right?" Ron was suddenly worried.

"I think so," Harry glanced up at the head table, but Snape wasn't looking at him. "He didn't say I wouldn't."

"Well, I'll make sure Mum lets him know you're expected at our place, so he doesn't get any ideas," Ron sounded confident.

Harry was pretty sure that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be much help if Snape decided that part of Harry's punishment should be to miss Christmas, but again, it was no more than he deserved. He didn't share his thoughts with Ron.

"All right," Hermione's tone was determined, "it's our last week before exams. Let's make it count." And she stood and motioned for the two boys to follow her.

"To the library!" Ron shot his finger into the air in mock excitement. Hermione looked back at him and shook her head with a slight smile.

"During these detentions, you will be engaging in two separate tasks. The first half of your time will be spent cleaning any part of my classroom or supplies that are in need. The second half you will be studying – either by working on your essays or through practical application," Snape sat behind his desk and looked seriously at Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

He spent the next hour cleaning the tables and equipment in the Potions classroom. The classroom was cool enough that Harry didn't sweat or feel the need to remove any layers of clothing. Harry was sure Snape had done that on purpose.

"I shall be assessing your Charm work tonight," Snape announced.

They had been working about half an hour, and Harry had done quite admirably, he thought.

"Have you given any thought to Professor Belfacia's proposal of apprenticeship?" Snape asked out of the blue.

It took Harry a moment to jump to that train of thought. "Oh, that," he rubbed the back of his neck. "A bit, yeah, I suppose."

"Is it something that interests you? Your performance in Transfiguration must be impressive to be offered an apprenticeship," Snape crossed his arms and leaned against his desk.

"I guess," Harry admitted. "I'm not sure what I would do with it, though."

"There is plenty you could do with an apprenticeship in Transfiguration," Snape assured him. "You could become a professor. You could go into research and theory. You could work for the Ministry."

"I'm not sure any of that suits me, sir," Harry looked at his feet and toed the ground.

"And being an Auror?" Snape probed. "Does that suit you?"

"I don't really know anymore," Harry confessed. "Everything's just been so different after…after all of it ended. I don't feel like the same person I was before."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "That is understandable. Could you elaborate?"

Harry hopped up on the nearest table and swung his legs. "I'm not really sure. I just feel like, my whole life there's been this goal; this purpose. Now it's gone. Everything I wanted before – I'm not sure I wanted it because it was what I wanted or because it seemed to fit with who I was and what I was supposed to do. I'm not sure I want a career that's constantly filled with danger." Harry sighed. "When the battle was over, and I'd gotten Dumbledore's wand from Voldemort, I decided I didn't want to keep it. I told Ron and Hermione that the wand was more trouble than it was worth, and I'd had enough trouble for a lifetime."

"That, you have," Snape's lip curled up into a half-smile.

"But I'm not sure what else to do. I was sort of raised to fight. I've been fighting since I was old enough to know there was something to fight for. I had to fight for everything at my Aunt's house. They never did anything for me willingly. I had to fight for attention, food, clothes, everything. If I hadn't fought for it, I'm not sure what they would have done with me."

Snape's brow furrowed into a frown.

"Then I got to Hogwarts and I was constantly fighting – fighting Malfoy, the basilisk, dementors, the tasks in the Tri-wizard Tournament, Voldemort, his visions. Fighting against you," he finished quietly. "I've got nothing left to fight," he said more to himself than to Snape. "I feel like I don't even know who I really am. I'm Quidditch and The-Boy-Who-Lived. I'm good at landing myself in the infirmary, catching snitches, and defeating Dark Lords. If I'm not an Auror, what else am I going to do?" Harry felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, and he pressed his palms against them, forbidding himself to cry in front of Snape.

When he took his hands away from his eyes, he saw that Snape had come over to stand in front of him. Snape looked torn, like he wanted to comfort Harry, but was not sure he should do so.

"Harry," Snape reached out and grasped one of Harry's shoulders, "you are more than what you have done in your past. You are more than a Seeker. You are more than the subject of a prophecy. You are you." Snape caved in and moved to stand between Harry's legs, enveloping him in a strong, comforting hug. Harry wrapped his arms around Snape and buried his face in Snape's robes. He felt the tears leaking out of his eyes.

"One does not have to be useful to have worth, Harry," Snape's strong voice vibrated through Harry.

"We've got Transfiguration in the morning and Herbology in the afternoon," Hermione was looking at a piece of parchment with a complex schedule chart. Her eyes were darting all over the page. She sounded a bit breathless and looked almost manic.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ron rubbed her arm. "We're all going to do fine."

"You can't just assume that, Ron!" Hermione shrugged off his hand and set the parchment on the table. "These exams are the closest thing we'll get to a real NEWT. If we don't do well on these, how can we expect to pass our NEWTs? And what about Potions? If we don't manage 'Exceeds Expectations,' Professor Snape is going to drop us from his class. Do you know how many careers require a NEWT in Potions?"

Neither Harry nor Ron answered her. Not only did they not know, but they hoped it was rhetorical, and they hoped she wouldn't decide to list each and every one of them.

"No. It's just foolish to assume we'll all do well. Here," she thrust a sheet of parchment at each of them. "I've made schedules for both of you."

Neither boy was surprised, as she did this nearly every year.

"If we stick to this schedule, we'll be maximizing our studying for each subject. It's the best we can do," she finished, dejected.

Harry glanced over his schedule and noted that every moment of his day for the entire week was filled with something to do with exams. "I suppose sleep is an elective, then?" he joked.

"What?" Hermione snapped at him. "I've scheduled in your sleep time. And don't you even think about wandering out at night, Harry Potter. I haven't spent the last seven years helping you through every class just so you can make yourself too tired to pass your last winter exams."

"Don't worry," Harry promised her. He didn't feel the need to sneak out to see Snape right now, since he had a few hours with him every night.

"Well?" Hermione looked back and forth between Harry and Ron. "What are you waiting for? We've got ninety minutes of Transfiguration work to be doing before bed! Go get your books!"

The two boys exchanged a look and an eye roll, and then marched up to their room to get their texts.

It was Thursday night and Harry was in Snape's classroom, finishing up his cleaning. Snape was engrossed in his marking.

"Sir," Harry approached the desk once he knew the first hour had elapsed. Snape looked up at him. "Are you marking our Potions exams from today?"

"I am," Snape confirmed.

"Have you gotten to mine yet?" he asked.

"I have not," Snape answered.

"Would you tell me how I did on the practical?" Harry's heart sped up as he anticipated learning whether or not he might still be in Snape's class after holidays.

"I will not," Snape denied him. "You will have to wait to find out with the rest of the students."

"Shall I keep cleaning so you can continue marking the essays? Or am I going to study?" Harry hoped he would not have to clean anymore, but also wanted to know his Potions fate as soon as possible.

"Your final exam tomorrow is Defence, is it not?" Snape set down his quill.

Harry nodded.

"Very well. I will take you through a practical very much like you should expect to see tomorrow afternoon," Snape stood and made his way around the desk.

First, Snape had Harry fire off curses at him, to assess how well Harry would do tested on offensive skills. Then, Harry soon found himself blocking an assortment of high-level curses and hexes. Everything Snape threw at him was non-verbal. Harry was doing well, deflecting nearly everything completely, when Snape cast something he hadn't ever seen before. He put up a generic shield, but it wasn't strong enough to stop the curse, and the light shot straight through and hit Harry dead in the chest, sending him backwards onto the floor. He felt the wind knock out of him and heard his head crack against the stones before his world went black.

"…Rennervate, dammit!" Harry heard Snape's voice above him and he opened his eyes, his world swimming into focus. He felt Snape's hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

"Ow," Harry muttered, feeling the sharp pain where his head had collided with the floor.

Snape let out a sigh of relief. "Stay still, Harry," he ordered, "I have to check you for a concussion. I've already reversed the curse I sent."

Harry saw the tip of Snape's wand glow as it was pointed at his face. Harry wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, but Snape must have been satisfied at whatever he saw, because he gave a curt nod. "Can you get up?" Snape asked, pushing himself to his feet.

"You're not going to make me go to the hospital wing?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head with a wince.

"Do you feel the need to go?" Snape reached his hand down toward Harry to help him up.

"Not really," Harry grabbed Snape's hand and pulled himself up, but at about halfway up, his world lurched suddenly to the side as a wave of dizziness hit him, and he collapsed back down on the floor. Snape had been unprepared for the shift in weight and movement, and he was pulled down with Harry, landing on top of him with a grunt.

Harry laughed, "Sorry."

He felt Snape's body shake with returning humor. "Graceful, as always," Snape smirked.

Harry was suddenly very aware that he was pinned under Snape. He felt the warmth of Snape's body and the solid weight covering him. He felt Snape move to get back up, Harry's arm seemed to act of its own accord and reached out to grasp the back of Snape's head. Snape's eyes widened in surprise, but Harry didn't give him time to utter a single word before he pulled Snape's face to his and their lips touched.

Instantly, Harry felt his body surge with heat. Snape stiffened, but Harry wrenched his other hand away from Snape's and brought it up to wrap around Snape's back, keeping him in place. He could feel Snape's hesitation, but when he let out a small whimper, it seemed to be Snape's undoing. Suddenly, Snape started kissing him – really kissing him. Harry was blinded by the rush of feeling, both physical and emotional. His ears were pounding with blood and he could barely feel the rest of his body through the flood of adrenaline.

This, Harry cheered inside, this was what he'd been craving for with Ginny. The electricity, the desire. He realized he was hard, and he desperately needed Snape to know. He thrust his hips up into Snape and found an answering hardness above him. He let out a gasp and detached his mouth from Snape's, arching his neck. Snape's mouth instantly traveled down to explore the expanse of the column. Snape had repositioned both his hands on either side of Harry and used his leverage to thrust his own hips down into Harry's. They rutted against each other, Harry's legs wrapping around Snape's. Snape sucked on Harry's earlobe and gave it a light bite.

"Oh, fuck!" Harry groaned, grinding his hips faster.

"Yes," Snape whispered into Harry's ear.

"I'm – I'm fuck!" Harry cried out, and then he exploded, feeling the wetness spread across the front of his trousers.

He was barely coherent enough to hear Snape whisper his name and convulse on top of him.

They both lay there for a short while, gathering themselves. Snape must have cast a non-verbal, wandless cleaning charm, because Harry felt the wetness at his groin disappear. Snape rolled off of Harry onto the floor beside him.

"I'm sorry," Snape apologized.

Harry looked over at him. "Me too."

Snape's expression was full of rejection and embarrassment.

"Only because we did it on the floor," Harry reassured him. "Next time, I'd like to do it proper, in a bed."

Snape's eyes widened.

"Why're you sorry?" Harry suddenly felt insecure. Did he not live up to Snape's fantasies?

Snape sat up and ran his hand through his hair. "Because we should not have done that. I am your teacher, I should have – I should have stopped it."

"No!" Harry protested, sitting up so quickly his world spun again. "I didn't want it to stop! I don't care that you're my teacher. I'm of age – even in the muggle world."

Snape stood up, looking pained. "My actions are – this was inappropriate. You're detentions are over. Go back to your rooms."

"What?!" Harry yelped. He got to his feet as fast as he could, staggering a bit. Snape reached out and steadied him, and Harry felt his cheeks flush with the touch. "Why? Don't send me away! I thought – we were getting on so well," Harry's voice was laced with despair. "Please don't send me away. I need you," he pleaded. "I feel sane when I'm with you. I won't kiss you again. We can forget it ever happened."

"I believe I will find that difficult," Snape's cheeks tinged with red as he straightened his robes.

"But I can wait," Harry promised. "I can wait until after I'm done with NEWTs. I won't – we won't do anything like that again. I mean, you probably don't even want to. I understand if I didn't, you know," Harry rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "live up to expectations."

"Live up to…?" Snape took two swift steps forward and enveloped Harry in a hug. "You ridiculous…why are you so eager to spend time with me? What could you possibly see in me?" Snape seemed to be asking himself that last question.

Harry pushed back from Snape's chest. "Are you joking? You're brave, and funny, and brilliant, and kind…" Harry trailed off at the look in Snape's eyes.

"I am not funny," he denied, pretending to sound offended. "And I am not kind. Surely your last seven years would have made that clear."

"You were kind to the cat. You're kind when no one's around. You're kind to the people you care about," Harry rebutted.

"You are delusional," Snape shook his head and let Harry out of the hug. "Fine," he relented, "you will finish serving your detentions with me. But nothing like this can ever happen again."

Harry's protest showed on his face.

"Until you have finished your NEWTs," Snape huffed. "If you are still suffering from your delusions."

Harry's face broke into a blinding grin. "I can wait," he nodded.

"Now go," Snape shooed him away. "I have exams to mark. Straight back to the Tower," he commanded. "No detours. It's near curfew and I'll not have you using detention as an excuse to wander about the corridors after hours."

"Of course, sir," Harry smiled cheekily. He made his way to the door and turned back around to look at Snape, who had sat back down at his desk and was sifting through the exams. As he stepped into the hallway, he heard a thud and a groan. He popped his head back in the classroom and saw Snape's head face-down on his desk.

"Potter," he heard Snape say into his lap in a tortured voice.

Harry ducked back out and headed to his rooms with a smile.