Summary: After being turned into a snake by Snape and Dumbledore and unable to change back, Lord Voldemort has no choice but to turn to the only other living Parselmouth, Harry Potter. After making a deal with each other, Harry agrees to help the Dark Lord return to his human form. Forced to work together, how will Harry deal with having Voldemort live around his neck?

Rating: M for slight language and slash

Warnings: Harry/Voldemort SLASH (please don't read if you don't like), Grey(ish)!Harry, Slightly-manipulative but not "evil"!Dumbledore

Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Harry Potter. All it's plots and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and company.

A/N: As always, a big thank you to all my readers! I haven't had time to respond to reviews, but I'll get to that this round.

Sorry this chapter is a bit late, RL was a bit busy. To make up for it, this chapter is the longest yet, though it may just be because it's a bit wordy...too many explanations! And barely any Tom, but lots of Harry and Snape.

This chap is not beta-d yet so any spelling/grammar mistakes/stupid ideas are still mine ;)

Enjoy!

"Regular speech"

:Parseltongue:

'Thoughts'

"Spells"

:Spells:

After the comment about Snape, Tom's illness lost all its humor once again when the man shuddered and curled up into himself. It was a shock to see this powerful man struck down this way. Harry pulled out his wand and levitated the man a moment so he could pull the covers out from under him. He settled Tom back down on the bed and pulled the covers over him. He no longer seemed to be awake. Damn. Harry was hoping after mentioning Snape Tom would give him a better idea. Didn't he have a Healer or something among his Death Eaters?

Something bumped up against Harry's leg.

:Nagini,: Harry breathed when he found the snake nosing him.

:Is Master all right?:

Harry hesitated before he reached down and stroked Nagini's large head. :I'll help him. Nagini, are there any House Elves here?: Harry had yet to see them.

Compared to Voldemort when he was a cobra, Nagini displayed little human expression on her face, but her voice portrayed confusion. :House Elves? Of course. Their names are Sprit and Sprot.:

Harry took a moment to try and translate the names into English and called for the Elves. Two lanky, near identical beings dressed in two pieces of the same table cloth popped into the room. Clearly, they were twins. Before Harry could even open his mouth to explain himself to the Elves, in synchronous motion, they bowed low to the ground.

"Master Harry, what can we do for yous?" the two asked at the same time, producing a strange resonating sound.

"How do you know me already?"

"Master told us—"

"—about yous yesterday when—"

"—Master returned."

Harry stared blankly at the volley of remarks. Who knew the Weasley twins had doppelgangers in a pair of House Elves? He shook his head. They were also remarkably well spoken for House Elves, as well. Leave it to the Dark Lord to find servants who were grammatically correct.

"Oh, well, good. I need you to keep a watch on your Master. He's very sick. I'm going to find a way to help him."

"We promise—"

"—to take care of Master."

Harry sighed. "Thank you." Harry turned back to the sleeping Tom. His face was pale now, and there was a small wrinkle between his eyes that indicated his sleep was not very restful. Harry tucked the green silk comforter in tighter around his shoulders.

:I'll be back, Tom,: he hissed in the soothing cadence of Parseltongue. He didn't know if he heard. Nagini bumped his leg again.

:I'm coming with you.:

Harry looked at her. :You sure you don't want to stay here?:

:I cannot help him here.:

Harry nodded and allowed Nagini to wrap herself around him. It suddenly occurred to him that he was completely out of his element and had no idea what he was going to do now. This was not the right time to act and think like a Gryffindor. It was Tom who thought it was some side effect of the potion…Harry had to trust he knew enough to be right. Snape had been the first person to pop into his head because he was one of the only Potion's Masters he knew, but he was also going to be the most uncooperative in all likelihood.

Would Professor Slughorn be a better choice? It might be the safer option, but would probably be a waste of time considering the poor professor's guilt and fear of Voldemort and the probability that he would know nothing of what could be wrong. And, Harry had to admit, Snape's knowledge of all things potions was far superior to Slughorn, who was too distracted by his collecting habits to stay locked up in a dungeon all day with research.

Going to see a Healer was an option, Harry supposed, and he took a moment to consider it. If Tom was wrong and it wasn't the potion, but some ordinary wizard's flu, then going to St. Mungo's would be the best option. But what if it wasn't something ordinary? How could he possibly explain the circumstances of Tom's illness, or who he was? The Ministry was everywhere these days. And, furthermore, he was Harry Potter, not some nameless wizard people could care less about. Only very basic Glamours had been in his Charms curriculum thus far and he was far from good at them; otherwise, he would have gotten rid of the accursed scar and his other notable features whenever he went out in public, if only for a little bit of peace. It wouldn't take long for news to get out that the Chosen One was seen at St. Mungo's with a mysterious wizard, and then everyone would wonder what he'd been up to. People would overreact if it was ever found out before he was ready that he had associated with the Dark Lord.

But what of Dumbledore? He told Harry he would be willing to help if he ever needed it. But Tom despised him even more than Snape, and he wasn't exactly on Harry's good side either. Besides, Harry had no idea how much about potions and healing Dumbledore knew. At least Harry has seen Snape's capabilities. In the end, he figured Dumbledore would turn to Snape for assistance anyway. Harry preferred he got to him first, and on his own terms, because while Dumbledore trusted Snape, Harry didn't.

There was also the matter that Harry was curious about Snape; he'd already spoken to Dumbledore about his side of the whole plan, but he knew nothing of Snape's motives. Odds were Snape just wanted the Dark Lord dead. That just made Harry's plan to question Snape even more stupid, but something told him he had to go with this option first. His gut instinct had always helped him out before.

Frankly, Snape was a threat against what Harry and Tom were trying to do. Harry already got Dumbledore to, for the most part, trust him in this, but Snape was a whole different story, as he'd never liked let alone trusted James Potter's son. It felt like a test, to Harry, if he could convince Snape that he wasn't a complete idiot and that he could actually do something right. If things went bad, there was always Obliviate—a charm he'd just (barely) learned with Hermione's help—that could be used on Snape before Harry turned to someone else, like Dumbledore.

Ok, fine, Snape it was. What now? If there was anything he'd learned from Hermione, it was that one needed pertinent information first before doing anything more without it being a waste of time—theoretically. Harry needed to know just what exactly the Potion's Master knew about the rare potion Tom took (and Harry as well, for that matter, but so far he felt fine). Harry feared it wasn't much, considering he got the two mixed up, but maybe he would know why it affected Tom in such a way, if that really was the case.

Harry considered trying to think like Tom in how to handle this, but his only plan came out to be placing Snape under Crucio until he talked. Obviously, that wasn't going to work. Manipulating like Dumbledore would take too long, similar to Hermione's approach, which would require hours in the library and an overly elaborate plan. So how does one approach what will no doubt be a reluctant Snape and get the information needed in a quick amount of time?

'Why,' Harry thought, 'you simply need to think like Snape himself.' That would certainly peeve the man off.

With a vague but at least existent plan in mind, Harry made a request of one of the House Elves, who left briefly only to return a very short time later to hand Harry the item he knew the Dark Lord would have.

Harry took one last glance of the man that used to be his enemy and Apparated back to the Black house. He wanted to be here, rather than risk taking Snape to where Tom was. Snape had been a part of the plan to kill the Dark wizard, after all, and Harry wasn't expecting him to be very chipper about helping him out.

Harry immediately summoned his own House Elves.

"Jip! Scavy!" Twin pops indicated their arrival. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to, well, kidnap a person named Severus Snape and bring him here."

Bless House Elves and their complete obedience, even enthusiasm—if they liked you—for whatever their owners asked of them. Jip and Scavy practically jumped at the prospect of the illegal activity.

"You can find him at Hogwarts, I'm sure, probably down in the dungeons. Try not to attract too much attention, and do it fast. When you find him, bring him into the sitting room and he, uh, will need to be restrained there."

When the two Elves disappeared, Harry went into the sitting room and sat down to wait, anxiously tapping his fingers on the arm rest. Nagini moved in front of the fire and coiled into a large ball. All he could think about was Tom lying ill and alone back in his home. He wished his Elves would come back soon, preferably with what will no doubt be an incensed Professor Snape in tow.

While he waited, it occurred to Harry that, while Tom may be dying, the ultimate outcome may not actually be death. Tom was, in a roundabout way, immortal as long as Harry was his Horcrux. He could come back, but what Harry feared was what the experience would do to Tom. He feared what it would do to himself. Harry preferred to think of that being Plan Z, because he'd rather try Plans A through Y first before he let Tom die in order to bring him back with the Horcrux. To him it was barely an option.

Luckily for Harry, he didn't have to wait much longer for Snape to arrive. House Elves were very proficient and prompt in their orders. He soon enough had Snape bound to one of his upholstered arm chairs in the sitting room.

He was so getting detention every day for the rest of his school career. Maybe his life.

"Hello, Professor."

"Potter! Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Kidnapping you," Harry said with a shrug. "You weren't going to come willingly."

Snape jerked against his magical restraints, but Jip and Scavy were very thorough. His black eyes met Harry's, his face scrunched in an angry sneer.

"And why, pray tell, have you kidnapped me? Where is this place?"

"Where is my home, er, I guess one of them." Dammit, that made him sound like a rich snob. "Why you don't need to know yet."

Snape did not look pleased.

Harry had his wand unobtrusively hidden up his sleeve, so it took only a split second to have it in his hand and a short moment more for Snape to be petrified. Even completely frozen his eyes managed to glare balefully in Harry's direction.

"Scavy, please remove any and all extraneous articles from his person, please. You can make a pile here," Harry said, indicating an end table in the room. A snap of his spindly fingers later, Scavy had amassed an alarmingly large pile of Snape's possessions. Along with a darkly colored wand, a couple shrunken potion's kits and empty bottles, there was also an assortment of tiny, thumb-sized vials of what Harry thought must be antidotes, serums, and whatever else emergency doses of potions a person living a dangerous life may need. There were other things, too, little trinkets that Harry wasn't sure were for. He didn't touch anything for this reason.

Taking the small potion vial that Tom's House Elf had retrieved for him from his pocket, Harry approached Snape and administered the Veritaserum to the unwilling yet unmoving Potion's Master. But using a potion on a Potion's Master was risky; Harry just had to hope that Snape would have had no reason or time to take the antidote to the Truth Serum. Even with the assumption that Snape was brought here without the antidote in his system, Harry was going to have a hard time, considering one had to ask the right questions to get the information needed without providing a loophole for the person being interrogated.

Nagini was rapidly flicking her tongue in and out. :His smell has changed,: she hissed.

With that little bit of reassurance, Harry studied Snape. This is the part where he'd have to wing it. He released Snape from the spell.

"Who are you?"

"Severus Tobias Snape," the man in question grit out harshly, fighting the potion.

"What is your profession?"

"Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Those questions were things Snape would have no reason to not tell him. So now it was time for a harder question, one Snape would not want to answer. He was beginning to remind himself of a character from a detective show Vernon Dursley liked to watch on television.

"Were you the one to tell the Dark Lord Voldemort the prophecy about him and the one stated to defeat him, and thus make my parents and myself a target for Voldemort?"

Snape's eyes flashed, and a series of raw emotions blinked across his visage before it carefully blanked once more.

"Yes." Snape's voice was choked, his face pale. Harry didn't allow himself to pause for even a moment as he focused his questions on the topic he'd brought the man here for.

"Did you consort with Albus Dumbledore in a plot against the Dark Lord Voldemort, which involved two rare potions, once meant to weaken and the other to strengthen in ordinance of past conditions of the drinker?"

"Yes."

Harry figured he'd ask broadly about the potions first. He didn't want Snape to know what his purpose was just yet; better to keep him guessing. "And did you agree with Dumbledore on this plan?"

"No."

"And—wait, what?" Harry had only been half paying attention, already planning his next move, and so at first he had thought he'd misheard.

Snape looked like he could murder Harry with his bare hands. "I said 'no'."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "What didn't you agree on?"

With a nasty expression, Snape ground out, "I did not agree that giving the Dark Lord the strengthening potion first was wise."

Harry bit at his lip, deep in thought.

"Professor, you do know the significance of restoring his soul, and of the Horcruxes…and their relation to me, right?"

Snape twitched. "Yes."

"Then why didn't you follow Dumbledore's plan? Did you think it wouldn't work?"

The Serum would not let Snape pause this time and he answered immediately. "Soul Magic is very significant and ancient magic, unpredictable in its power. Voldemort broke this power. I had no doubt that the silver potion would revive his soul to full strength because of the discrepancy of what he used to be and what he became, but what I doubted was the ability to stop him afterwards. There is little to fear other than a sane Voldemort at the peak of his power. He would be near undefeatable…especially by a sixteen year old student," Snape reluctantly admitted but had little choice in the matter. "It was complete idiocy for you to run away as you did to give him the potion alone."

Harry shrugged. "I was safe. He would have been breaking an Unbreakable Vow if he harmed me."

Harry fell silent. He wasn't sure, but for some reason it sounded like Snape was…trying to protect him.

"Dumbledore still wanted me to stand against Voldemort afterwards, didn't he?" Harry asked quietly.

"It was the Prophesy…it had to be you, he said. I doubted you would survive."

Snape seemed rather uncomfortable with this confession. Harry simply didn't know what to feel about it. There was something that stuck out to him, something that should have made him suspicious before but didn't.

"Professor Dumbledore wanted you to give the strengthening potion to T—Lord Voldemort, right?" Harry added, remembering to make it a question.

Snape had been watching Harry while he was deliberating, and he gave nothing away in his expression when he was given the new question. "Yes."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "But Voldemort was given the weakening potion instead."

Snape did not answer, because he was never posed a question, merely a statement. Harry moved to amend for the misstep.

"Let me ask you this: did you purposely give Voldemort the wrong potion, according to Dumbledore's plans?"

"Yes," Snape voiced through gritted teeth. Harry's eyebrows rose. So Snape hadn't accidentally mistaken one potion for another, he had done it on purpose.

"What did you think it would do?"

"Originally I didn't care, only that it would buy time."

'For who? The Wizarding World…or me?' Harry sighed, really wishing Snape would elaborate more. He was getting tired of asking all these questions, and he didn't know how much longer the potion would last.

"But to what end? Voldemort was only a snake for three weeks, and then I was the one to feed him the silver potion myself. How did giving him the gold one first even help?"

Snape twisted subtly in his magical bindings, which continued to hold. His dark eyes glinted like obsidian. "I discovered a failsafe. You would no longer be the Dark Lord's defeater." Snape cocked his head to the side. "But perhaps I was mistaken. You were the one to deliver the opposite potion to the one I gave him, after all." An odd look crossed the older man's face.

Harry was unsure about Snape's words, and something akin to dread simmered beneath the surface of his emotions. "'Failsafe'?" he asked. What did Snape mean by that? This time it took longer for Snape to answer, and Harry assumed the Veritaserum was wearing off.

"You cannot take both potions without consequences."

"Like…?" Harry prodded.

"Death."

Harry sat down heavily.

"You didn't tell Dumbledore any of this?" Harry asked weakly.

Snape's visage twisted into a harsh scowl and his mood abruptly changed to something more normal for him. "And for good reason, apparently. Dumbledore has turned into a barmy old man for taking no action once you refused to kill the Dark Lord. What are you thinking, Potter?" Obviously the serum had worn off. Harry glared at Snape defiantly, ruffled by Snape's next words. "I realize you may think yourself the all-powerful Chosen One, but he is the Dark Lord…he will not spare you just because you refuse to do the same to him. Whatever he's told you, he was only lying to you."

He could be right, of course. But Harry believed he knew better.

"You don't understand…"

But Snape would not let him finish. "He tried to kill you! He killed your mother! Or did you forget that?" Next to the fireplace, Nagini hissed and inflated menacingly at the tone of Snape's voice.

Harry stood up again. "Of course I haven't forgotten he killed my mother and father," Harry emphasized, because while Snape might not have cared, his father was just as important as his mother to him, "and many other people."

Harry hated that Snape managed to strike a nerve within him. Guilt welled up in his psych, guilt that he's been stoutly ignoring ever since he started suspecting his feelings for Tom Riddle—or maybe even Voldemort, he wasn't sure anymore because it was so incredibly outlandish that he doubted he could ever come to understand it, let alone anyone else.

How Harry could fall—or teeter dangerously on the edge, as it were—for his parents' murderer would never make sense. What was happening to them was like fitting the pieces of two wholly different puzzles together, and still making a complete picture. Things won't fit properly, but nevertheless something was still able to be made from it. Tom had been part of his life for so long, first as his would-be killer, then as his unlikely charge, and finally as his…whatever (he wasn't sure about it yet). Maybe it had always meant to be like that eventually. How could two people who were so interconnected in their lives not become as close? They knew each other's secrets, their fears, how they came to be today. Harry hadn't forgotten the things Tom did as Voldemort…but perhaps he has been able to forgive him. Snape, however, had not.

"He's not Voldemort anymore," Harry told him. Snape remained unaffected.

"You are foolish to believe that. It doesn't matter anyway, Potter, since the second potion worked as expected and he is mortal now…it will make the ultimate effects of taking the two potions simple. He will die as his magical core is destabilized from being unable to reconcile with the two extremes that it had been forced into, causing it to bleed from his body. Without Horcruxes, there will be no way for him to come back. I shall assume the reason I was…brought here is because he has begun to succumb to the effects, but what I still don't understand is why you would care." Snape peered at Harry through narrowed eyes.

Outwardly, Harry stayed firm, but inwardly he quivered in glaring distress.

"There's nothing that can be done?" he asked, ignoring Snape's roundabout inquiry.

"Nothing," Snape affirmed coldly.

Harry's knuckles turned white as he curled his fingers so his nails bit into his palm.

:Nagini,: Harry hissed softly, calling to her because only she would know what he was feeling right now, even if they could not feel it in the same way, being two different species. The snake crossed the room to curl partially around his body. :He said there is nothing that can be done.:

Nagini licked the air with her black tongue.

:I should eat him.:

Despite himself, the corner of Harry's mouth twitched in something of a small, sad smile.

Harry had never liked Snape. Ever since that first day in the potion's classroom, Snape had judged him based solely on petty comparisons to his father, something which Harry had never known or understood until he had admittedly rudely looked into Snape's pensive. Snape had cared less that his father had been killed by Voldemort, but his mother…Snape had apparently been very fond of her, Harry had recently learned. It was hard imagining the dark-haired man liking anybody. Voldemort killed his mother despite Snape's plea to spare her. That act alone was seemingly enough for Snape to turn against his Master and turn to Dumbledore's side.

Harry looked back up into Snape's black eyes, and saw them filled with confusion. Snape's brow was furrowed, and he sat stiff and still in the chair.

"You can still speak Parseltongue," he voiced monotonously. Harry's brow rose sharply.

:Shit,: he inadvertently said in that damning language.

Well, that was stupid. Maybe Snape would believe the Parseltongue merely stuck…?

Yeah right. Here he had made sure Dumbledore didn't know his Horcrux was still there, and now Snape knows or will figure it out in mere moments—Snape, who wanted Voldemort dead. Cursing inwardly at himself, Harry braced for the consequences. It looked like he'd be Obliviating Snape after all. But first, he now had a chance to be completely open with the man.

"It never left."

In weary shock, Snape said, "Then the final potion did not work, after all."

Harry shook his head. "Oh no, it did work. Problem was, the backlash forced me backwards while the potion was still in my hand, uncapped. Turns out I swallowed a bit of it when it splashed into my mouth. It made me keep the Horcrux. I'm the last."

Snape looked like he would be ill.

With a blasé flick of his wrist, Harry asked, "Professor, what do you think that means?"

"You did not tell Dumbledore," Snape said, ignoring Harry's rather loaded question and Harry let him…for now. "Why?" Snape's voice held no disdain or censure, only curiosity.

Shrugging, Harry responded. "Riddle told me not to. I think he may have been worried about what Dumbledore would have done to me."

Snape scoffed at that. "For his Horcrux, you mean, but not you. Get it right, Potter."

Harry's hand dropped to Nagini's head which lingered in the air. He stroked her smooth scales, eliciting a hissy purr from the viper.

"Like you care," Harry suddenly said coldly. "What does it really matter to you if I have to die to make him mortal? Then you would never have to deal with me again, and the Dark Lord could be killed as well. That would just solve all your problems, wouldn't it? You asked Voldemort to spare my mother, after all," Harry said, watching the shock jolt across Snape's visage, "but not me. I bet it just kills you to think that she chose to give her life for me. And she did choose; Voldemort gave her an option. Dumbledore created this whole plot to make Voldemort mortal and to save me from sacrificing my life, and you went along with it, but not for my sake. Admit it…you just wanted Voldemort dead and as fast as possible. It was of little consequence to you if the plan protected me from sacrificing myself, as I am nothing but the arrogant James Potter's son to you, his clone. Even with all that infiltrating of my brain during those Occlumency lessons, you never did figure out that I am not like that."

Harry paused, eyes distant. "Or maybe I am that arrogant, to be able to believe I can convince a man like Tom Riddle that all these years he's been wrong, to think that he could see me as something other than his key to immortality. You tell me, Professor, since you seemed to have me pegged," Harry finished irreverently. The moment he'd finished speaking, he instantly regretted how his emotions had let slip all those biting words past his lips. He hadn't meant to divulge so much to Snape, and it was sort of embarrassing how he exposed how much the man's hatred had affected him. But all the desperations, frustrations, and sudden exhaustion had hit him hard, and he couldn't control himself. No matter what he sometimes felt, he still was only a boy sixteen years of age.

Snape looked at him with a vacant expression, though his eyes shone as they studied the young man from across the room. Harry pretended he didn't feel the gaze as he continued to idly stroke Nagini's head and focused on the ground, trying to regain his emotions.

"Potter," Snape said, voice void of emotion.

Harry did not look up. He fingered his wand, wondering if he could successfully Obliviate Snape now and be done with it.

"Potter!" Snape said more forcefully, and Harry reluctantly looked up at him.

"Why are you trying to save the Dark Lord?" he bothered to ask Harry for the first time.

Harry hadn't expected the question, and he didn't really know what answer Snape was looking for, or if he wanted to tell him the full reason.

Harry held his stance and decided what he wanted to say. "Because I'm a Gryffindor, and we love and forgive and hope far easier than what is probably good for us." Let Snape try and dissect that statement. "You became a Death Eater for a reason, once, before you became a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Tell me, has either side been what you hoped they would be?"

Snape was silent, but Harry could guess at what his answer was: No.

"We both know the way things are going will only result in war. One side will win, but only until the next war, because no actual problems will be solved. Both sides need to be appeased in order to have any sort of stability and prosperity."

Snape arched a challenging eyebrow. "And you think that can happen with Lord Voldemort still alive? You're thinking of working together?" He sounded, perhaps with good reason, cynical. "What of the Prophesy?"

Despite what Snape had said earlier about Harry being the one to give Tom the second potion, he didn't believe that was what the Prophesy meant. He stood by what he had decided earlier. "I came out the winner on that one," he told the other man.

Snape, of course, was not amused with the sudden confusion he was thrown into.

"I was under the impression he was still alive…that is the reason I am here, is it not?" he scorned.

"That person is not Voldemort," Harry said simply. "It never said I had to kill him. I couldn't even kill him when he was a helpless snake, and I didn't even know that it wouldn't get rid of him because of the Horcruxes."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "You, Potter, make no sense," he growled.

"Sorry," Harry said, entirely unapologetically. "You know, somehow I doubt my mother sacrificed herself for her son in order for him to seek vengeance and kill in return. She was worth more than that…and I'm better than that"

Harry's expression faltered at the failure of finding a way to help Tom, despite all he had found out. Turns out Snape was the right choice but…to what end? Could he find something or someone that would refute what Snape had told him? Who could he trust? He looked down at his wand in his hand and rolled it around in his palm. "Look, I'm just going to send you back now. You can't help him…can't help us. I…I'm not that good at Obliviating, but I can't just—"

"Wait."

Harry pulled his eyes away from his wand.

"There is…one thing."

Brow furrowed, Harry said, "One thing what?"

Snape displayed little emotion save for reluctance and perhaps a bit of disbelief that he was saying anything at all. "I was not being truthful when I said there was nothing you could do."

Relief welled up within Harry's chest, and confusion. But it figured that the question he really needed to know was one he asked after the Veritaserum had worn off. Idiot.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Snape shifted, but continued to look directly into Harry's eyes, an unnamed emotion within them. He opened his mouth, and then closed it slightly as if changing his mind, before saying, "I'd rather you not Obliviate me."

While that was a very good reason, Harry doubted that was the full truth.

"Huh," was Harry's inelegant response. "Probably smart."

Snape looked like he was forced to eat a Lemon Drop. Taking a moment to consider the possible consequences, Harry hissed to Nagini, who moved closer to Snape to keep an eye on him, before Harry used his wand to rid the Potion's Master of his bindings. Snape subtly flexed his arms and wrists while Nagini watched him carefully. Harry took a seat across from him.

"Well?"

Glaring, Snape settled back into the chair.

"There is another potion, a derivative from the other two."

Harry frowned, feeling like he was missing something. Impatience made him intrude into Snape's explanation.

"Hold on…how do you even know this? For that matter, how did you find out about the other two in the first place?"

Irritation clear on his face from being interrupted, Snape explained, "You are aware, of course, of Dumbledore's association with Nicolas Flamel," he said deprecatingly, obviously hinting at Harry's first year and the Philosopher's Stone incident. "At his death, Flamel willed Dumbledore a portion of his research. Flamel, throughout his exceptionally many years of life, had amassed a large collection of obscure texts and notes as research for his experiments. It was among those texts Dumbledore found mention of the Time Dust potions. With some further investigation, Dumbledore came to believe they may have become an experiment in the Department of Mysteries."

Now, if Harry thought about it, that shouldn't have surprised him.

Snape continued. "From the logs I found kept by the Unspeakables, the original creator of the potions had died after testing both of them on himself. It became a goal for the Unspeakables to stabilize the two, which they eventually did. The information was kept unreleased from the public, since thereafter the use of Time Dust became highly regulated, as the knowledge of its creation has been lost. The data was deemed useless, since the potions could never be brewed again and are, in fact, illegal. The last vial of each of the three was kept for archive purposes."

Harry felt a little guilty for demolishing the last bit of such a rare potion.

"When were you at the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked. He didn't think just anyone could waltz in and walk out with illegal contraband.

Snape quirked an eyebrow in wry humor, displaying the first hint of expression in a while. "The same night you were."

Harry frowned. "Fifth Year? I don't remember seeing you there." And he remembered everything from that night…it wasn't one of his best.

"Exactly," Snape replied simply. "You did not see me because I was otherwise occupied."

Harry contemplated that for a moment before he said, "So where is it?"

Snape was silent for a moment. "I don't have it. I had known nothing about it when I found it among the other two, but once I realized its nature I knew the best course of action to take. I left it there. I would be doing no favors for the Dark Lord's death by making it easy for him to obtain the stabilizer; that is, if he ever realized he needed it. I had no qualms in thinking it would be too late for him by then."

Harry dragged his fingers through his hair. Of course it couldn't be easy. "Which room did you find it in?"

"The Time Chamber."

Since the Battle of the Department of Mysteries was at the forefront of Harry's mind, he was suddenly reminded of his brief glimpse of the Time Chamber Snape spoke of. He remembered watching as one of the Death Eater's got his head stuck in that strange bell jar, and how it proceeded to loop continuously through his lifecycle, the head morphing to that of a baby's, then to that of an old man and back again. It had been horrifying grotesque to watch. Now that he thought about it, though, it did vaguely remind him the nameless potions Voldemort took, at least in the part where it takes the person backwards in their life cycle.

"Fine, I'll just have to go in there and—"

"And get thrown into Azkaban," Snape broke in. "The Ministry is not the same as it was in your Fifth Year. It may be true that you got in before," he said in a rebuking tone, no doubt for Harry's Gryffindor foolishness, "but that was under unusual circumstances. For one, you had Death Eaters working from inside the Ministry to clear the lower levels that night, and you also had an ignorant fool as Minister, who kept the Ministry protections to a minimum as a ploy to prove there was no danger of war. At this point, though, security is high and you will find it quite difficult to sneak past a hoard of Unspeakables and guards. The Department of Mysteries has been declared a high security floor because of its nature. They won't even let the Chosen One walk through those doors, after the destruction you caused," Snape concluded dryly. Harry fought from rolling his eyes.

"Well, who is allowed there?" From what he understood, Tom only ever had one Unspeakable in his Death Eater ranks, and that man had been captured after Voldemort's disappearance. He wasn't even sure how useful a person of that profession could be, considering the vow of unspeakability they have to take. Still, even if the man could never directly say what was occurring in the DoM, the position he held certainly must have been useful in terms of Ministry infiltration.

"The Unspeakables," Snape said in a duh sort of voice, and this time Harry didn't stop himself from rolling his eyes because he knew that, "and the higher level Ministry workers with clearance."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, deep in thought as an idea formed within his head. "Could Lucius Malfoy get in?"

Only the twitch in his forehead gave away Snape's dissatisfaction with that idea. "And how, exactly, do you expect to persuade him to do it?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know."

Snape rubbed his temples with his hands.

Snape didn't give Harry enough credit. At least he had half an idea in his head.

"Sprit," he called out softly, hoping the House Elf would answer, even if he wasn't his Master. With enviable alacrity, the tiny being appeared in front of Harry.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

Harry would have laughed at the incredulity on Snape's visage, but didn't.

"Just how many House Elves do you have, Potter?"

"Oh, this one's not mine," he explained. "It's Riddle's." Harry didn't feel comfortable calling him 'Tom' in front of Snape.

If Snape had any thoughts about the name Harry used, he did not give them away in his expression.

"Now, Sprit," Harry said, addressing the Elf, "do you mind bringing Lucius Malfoy here?" Harry would have asked his own Elves, but they didn't know Lucius and he strongly suspected Tom's did and could find him with more efficiency.

"Is he coming as guest or prisoner?"

Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. Trust the Dark Lord's House Elf to ask that sort of thing.

"Prisoner?" he answered questioningly, not exactly sure what that entailed. Maybe it'd be good to have Malfoy sweat a bit. Well, that, and Harry didn't really feel like getting cursed the moment he was seen by the blond.

"Oh, for the love of—Potter, if that is truly the Dark Lord's Elf, then unless you want Malfoy brought here wandless, bound and gagged like a pig and frightened for his life, you will call him off."

With an anxious expression, Harry looked from Snape back to Sprit. "On second thought, Spirt, hold up." He turned back to the other man. "Do you have a suggestion?" he asked acerbically.

Snape sighed self-deprecatingly. "I will go speak to Malfoy. It will be best if he thinks Lord Voldemort wishes him to get the potion. I don't believe he will have much incentive to get it for you."

Harry felt silly for not thinking of that first, but then again he didn't expect Snape to be quite so helpful, other than willingly telling him what he had been hoping to hear. And even then he wasn't sure of Snape's motives.

Harry deliberated on another idea. "Professor, would they have taken into account a snake like Nagini getting it?" he addressed to Snape.

With a tilted glance down at the viper still standing guard over him, Snape said, "She is a magical creature, but not one of a high level. It should be fine."

"If Malfoy can get her in, Nagini can eat the potion to get it safely out."

Snape made a curious noise in the back of his throat. "What?"

Harry waved his wand at the snake. "She'll swallow it and spit it back up later. Nasty trick, but useful."

The corner of Snape's mouth twisted in a miniscule grimace. It wasn't like the man didn't use vial ingredients for his potions regularly, Harry thought. The expression passed and Snape held out his wide hand.

"May I have my wand?" he asked politely enough but in a tone that spoke of how much it cost him to have to ask in the first place. Harry, in a show of equally reluctant good faith, handed the slender object to its owner.

:Nagini, will you go with Snape to help Lucius retrieve the potion Tom needs?:

Nagini considered it. :Tell him to shrink me, and I will go.:

The task was explained to Nagini further, with Harry translating Snape's recall of the room so the snake would have no misunderstandings.

Soon enough, Snape was prepared to Disapparate from Harry's wards. But before he did, Harry offered him one more item of note.

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape, with Nagini hidden in his robes, disappeared with a hollow crack.

Severus Tobias Snape, Potion's Master and Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Apparated inside the gates of Malfoy Manor without any trouble. He was welcome here, and it was not so odd that he should show up at this relatively late hour. He was, after all, a Death Eater along with Lucius Malfoy.

Only one of them really meant it.

Snape shifted stiffly, uncomfortable with feeling the cool scales of a shrunken Nagini against the skin of his neck. It made him feel oddly vulnerable. How did Potter stomach it, all those weeks, knowing the snake around his shoulders was actually the Dark Lord?

Snape had known the moment he'd seen the bone white cobra wrapped around the Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-Stupid that it was, in fact, Lord Voldemort. He didn't know what to think at the time, besides the sense that perhaps he should have seen that coming.

"Severus?"

"Good evening, Lucius," Snape greeted as the blond stood in the doorway of the main entrance, no doubt as Patriarch alerted to the arrival of someone within the wards.

Lucius nodded his head at Snape's greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

'You may regret that question later,' Snape thought to himself.

"The Dark Lord has a task for you…"

Lucius led the way to the sitting room. It went against Pureblood Code to speak to a guest in the entrance hall.

On the way, Snape recalled his decision to go against Dumbledore's wishes. When he had gone in search of the uncommon and indeed near non-existent potions the night of the Department of Mysteries break-in, he had not realized there was another option to Dumbledore's highly flawed plan. He found out from the archived notes stored there what the purpose of that third, far newer potion was, and made a split second decision. It was pure logic: why risk potentially disastrous consequences when one could choose a safer and more rational approach? They could almost literally take out the Dark Lord with hardly lifting a finger.

Lily's child would be safe.

Dumbledore was powerful, Dumbledore was wise, but he was not infallible. This Snape learned, and wasn't that a harsh lesson? If Snape was shocked to learn the Harry Potter was an accidental Horcrux when Dumbledore first approached him with his plan, the Potion's Master was positively appalled that the Headmaster intended for Potter to face the regenerated Dark Lord as the Prophesy foretold. Snape hated that Prophesy. He suspected Dumbledore had no idea how strong his conviction was when he vowed to protect Lily's son from Voldemort.

He would do anything for her, even if she was gone. So he made a new plan to fix Dumbledore's oversight.

If it wasn't for the whole Harry Potter interferes part, his plan would have worked.

Had the whole thing been a waste of time? Potter was still a Horcrux, and for that matter, the Dark Lord was still immortal. Trust that boy to ruin the one thing that would rid him of the Lord Voldemort's influence, make things easier for everyone, and ultimately save his life.

The result of Harry's accidental ingestion of the potion, however, was very curious.

"What is this task?" Malfoy asked, breaking into Snape's thoughts. They had reached the sitting room and were now accommodated in two separate chairs. Falling into the persona meant to fool, Snape ensured his blank mask was in place, though more and more it felt like his true face. He had little these days to express any emotion for, let alone feel it strongly enough.

"You recall when the Dark Lord's familiar was sent to the Department of Mysteries, I assume? The Dark Lord decreed that you should assist her in repeating this accomplishment and ensure that the snake reaches the Time Chamber. There is a potion that must be retrieved. The snake is informed of her duty, and all that is required is that you do yours and guarantee she is safely returned. I need not remind you of the consequences should you fail."

Lucius, of course, showed the appropriate fear of failure, but was nonetheless pleased at the prospect of success. If only he knew. Snape stiffened as he felt the shrunken snake unfurl and slither down his body, her muscles griping and releasing in succession down his arm. Lucius looked rather unhappy at the new addition to his wardrobe as Nagini settled around his neck, but nevertheless remained poised.

"When shall this be done by?"

"A soon as possible." A man such as the Dark Lord would take a few days to have his Magical Core drained, but it was best not to wait. "Contact me when you have completed the mission."

Standing, Snape bid farewell and showed himself out of the sitting room, not waiting for Malfoy to escort him out. Now that it was done, he could fully appreciate the implications of his actions and why he did it.

It all came down to one thing…or, more accurately, one person: Lily.

Potter had surprised him. Not only had he not killed Lord Voldemort on sight, seeing him in his diminutive and vulnerable form, but he had also brought him into Hogwarts Castle, among the very students Potter had vowed to protect. The boy certainly made the Potion's Master's own vowed task more difficult. Snape hadn't known who he wanted to strangle more: the Dark Lord for daring to come, Potter for being stupid enough to help him, or Dumbledore for being lenient and allowing the literal snake to stay.

After Potter's rather dramatic and abrupt departure, and then later Dumbledore's report on the conversation he'd had with the boy, Snape had honestly believed Potter had gone mad. Regardless of the "deal" they had made, in Snape's opinion there had been no reason for the brat's refusal to once and for all rid the world of Lord Voldemort. He was, in Snape's opinion, positively insane. No matter, Snape had ensured that one way or the other, the world would be rid of Lord Voldemort.

And then he'd been kidnapped, and found out that Potter was still a Horcrux. Snape grimaced in remembrance as he exited the Manor through the front door and made his way to the Apparition point.

He had to admit, though reluctantly, that Potter had rather successfully incapacitated and interrogated him. Who would have expected usually harmless House Elves to come into the dungeons of Hogwarts and snatch him away at the order of Harry Potter? It was rather embarrassing and surreal, and tasted slightly of revenge.

Potter was not the same person that had sat in his classroom the past six year. Even as he thought this, Snape pondered the idea that perchance the Potter he knew was nothing more than an illusion, or just what he wanted to see. The young wizard who had accosted him had been mature, clever, and had a fair share of bitterness about him as he accused his Professor of things close to the truth. Snape could see it in the jaded eyes, perhaps appropriately termed considering the color that they were. The older man had found it difficult to look away whenever he focused on them, and it felt like punishment…atonement for his role in Potter's life to cause such bitterness.

It was like Lily was watching him from the grave. It was like he was seeing Potter for the first time.

He had agreed; he had agreed to help Potter in this very poor, mock imitation of a good idea. Snape knew he could very well be trading the welfare of the Wizarding World in exchange for the vow he had made to protect the boy—to protect Lily's child. It was worth it. He had failed her once, and he would not do it again by failing her son.

Potter was still the Dark Lord's Horcrux—the only one left. Snape didn't know what would happen to a human Horcrux should the owner of the soul piece be in need of it. And thus the Potion's Master found himself in the opposite situation than before by trying to help the Dark Lord live.

There was one thing Snape was coming to realize: he was no longer Potter's only protector. He had little doubt, as long as the Dark Lord was alive, he would ensure the bearer of his soul would come to no harm. Was that enough of a reason to play this dangerous game, this gamble of the fate of the Wizarding World?

For Lily…and the boy, it was. Things were changing, the world flipping upside down.

Because of that, Snape felt the conflicting emotions of foreboding and something like optimism or excitement. Whatever happened, he felt it was worth seeing what came of it. As a man of two worlds, one Dark and one Light, and belonging to neither, the prospect of something different did not faze him.

Snape Disapparated away.

So, lots of revelations! I hope this chapter wasn't too boringly wordy.

For a heads up, I have officially reached the end of my pre-written chapter drafts, so next updates may not be quite so regular or prompt. That said, there probably aren't that many chapters left and I basically know what's going to happen. Plus, I've got a light work schedule coming up, which is good for writing :)