Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Feathers and Fireballs

Chapter Thirteen

Harry gradually became aware of another sound, another voice speaking soft, gentle words of comfort to Harry. This voice was… familiar, but not familiar in tone. It was dark and deep and Harry knew that he knew it, just not… not in this context.

He came back to himself slowly, following the sound of the unfamiliarly familiar voice. He realized that he was wedged underneath a table of some kind, and that he barely fit. The other person with him, the one speaking such kind words to him, wasn't under the table with him, but was instead in the doorway to the room the table was in, at a safe distance from Harry. And he wasn't responding to the allure at all, which helped Harry to relax slowly, in spite of the fact that he didn't know where Nagini had gone.

He finally gathered enough courage to glance at the person in the doorway and felt his heartbeat pick up once more. Snape. Snape was crouching in the doorway so that he was eye level with Harry, the expression on his face giving away nothing but concern. When he noticed that Harry was watching him, something that could almost be called a smile formed on the Potions Master's face.

Harry swallowed. "Where," he started, and was surprised to find that his voice was incredibly hoarse. How long had he been crying under the table?

"You made your way into my lab, Mr. Potter," Snape said. His voice was still incredibly gentle, like he expected Harry to spook at any moment. And he might, given that he was pretty much trapped in the unfamiliar room. "There's a glass of water beside you. It has a bit of a healing draught in it for your throat."

Harry looked over. There was a glass of water there, close enough that Harry could reach it but not so close that he worried that Snape had done something to him while he was incapacitated. Harry reached for it and, when he had it, drained the entire glass.

Once it took effect, Harry said, "I'm sorry," his voice shaking. Part of him wanted to get out from under the table, but the rest of him didn't dare. He just held himself as still as he could and hoped that if he didn't move, nothing bad would happen. Snape wouldn't get mad at him, or worse, wouldn't lose control of himself. As long as Harry stayed still, everything was fine.

"It's more than fine, Mr. Potter," Snape was saying. "You were clearly not yourself. I certainly cannot blame you for actions undertaken in the midst of extreme panic."

Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall back to rest against one of the legs of the table. There was a time when Snape would have blamed him for such a thing, he was sure of it. When Snape wouldn't have hesitated to snap at him, at the very least.

"You're being nice," Harry said finally into the silence. He wondered if Regulus knew where he was. If anyone was looking for him, or if… No. Regulus would be looking for him. Even if Snape did lose control of himself, Regulus would find him before anything too terrible could happen.

Harry believed that with everything in him. At least, he wanted to believe it.

"I'm not longer required to be anything other than nice to you," Snape said, and Harry's eyes flew open.

"What?" he asked, sharp with surprise.

"I was playing a role, Mr. Potter," Snape said with a small sigh. "I couldn't be seen to favor you, not when I was working as a double agent. And I always knew… Dumbledore and I both always knew that Voldemort would return. I would always be required to take up my role as spy once more." Snape shifted a bit, so that he was sitting on the floor rather than crouching. He leaned against the frame and stretched his legs out in front of him.

It was oddly casual, but Harry didn't comment on that. Instead, he said, "And you're here now, spying for Dumbledore?" Just saying the words out loud made Harry's heart skip a few beats. "Please, Professor, you can't take me back to him. I can't… not now that I've killed…" Harry closed his eyes with a shudder. "Please."

He heard Snape sigh. "I'm not taking you back," he said. "I can't. You… If you were to return to Dumbledore, Mr. Potter, he would try to make you fight. He would use whatever means available to him to force you to battle Voldemort, and he might even succeed. But it doesn't look to me as though you're particularly interested in fighting anyone anymore."

Harry shook his head, feeling queasy at the very idea of trying to fight. He couldn't… he wasn't… he wasn't the person he'd once been. "You're right," Harry finally said quietly. Then he opened his eyes once more and stared at the Professor. "Sir, can you tell me… did I…" Harry stopped himself. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to his sudden question.

"Did you…" Snape trailed off expectantly. "Mr. Potter, I can't answer your question if you don't finish it." This was said a bit snappishly, and something in Harry almost eased at the small return to familiar ground.

"Did I kill any of my friends other than Ron and Hermione and Ron's parents?" Harry asked, his voice small. He tried to speak louder, but he couldn't quite manage it. He wasn't even certain that he wanted to know the answer to his question. But Snape would probably be the only one who would know without Harry having to name each of his friends individually.

"To the best of my knowledge, no," Snape said immediately. "Longbottom and the Lovegood girl both returned to Hogwarts, as did the youngest Weasley child. While I cannot be certain that you didn't kill anyone else in your group of acquaintances, I believe that those three were the closest to you other than Granger and Weasley."

Harry sagged in relief. "Thank you, sir," he said. He shifted a bit, suddenly becoming aware of how very uncomfortable he was, wedged under the table the way that he was. He wanted to get out from under it, but… "Sir?" Harry asked, his voice shaking once more.

"Mr. Potter?" Snape asked in return.

"Are you…" Harry cleared his throat. "You're not… you're not affected by me."

"No," Snape said. There was no amusement in his voice in spite of the small smile on his face, just quiet certainty.

"Are you… are you like Regulus?" Maybe Harry could feel safe taking lessons from Snape if he was like Regulus. If he didn't feel any kind of sexual desire…

But his hopes were dashed. "I am not," Snape said. "I am just very much in control of myself. Occlumency helps me maintain that control."

"Regulus said that I would learn from you," Harry said. "I don't… I don't know that I can. It went very badly when we tried last year."

"It did," Snape said evenly. "It certainly had nothing to do with the way that you looked into my memories without my permission, or with the way you refused to try to learn."

"I didn't understand your instructions!" Harry snapped, then flinched, expecting… he didn't know what he expected. But whatever it was, it never came.

"Then perhaps, if we were to try again, I would have to find a different way to explain myself to you," Snape said. "Mr. Potter, things will be very different if you give me another chance to teach you."

"Will they?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure that he wanted to try, but… but wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about his allure? To be able to leave his rooms without what just happened happening again? Even if he never left his rooms again, which… honestly, he probably wasn't going to leave his rooms for at least another month after this incident, but… to have the option open…

"I promise," Snape said, his voice heavy. Weighted, like the promise meant something.

Harry sighed softly. "I'll think about it," was all that he said. He wasn't quite willing to agree to lessons just yet, but… but he was willing to think about it.

"Whenever you're ready," Snape said. "I'm here. My duties at the moment are rather light, so I look forward to the chance to work with you."

Harry's brow furrowed as something else occurred to him. "But don't you have to teach at Hogwarts, Professor?"

Snape's smile wasn't even subtle. "Not anymore, Mr. Potter," he said. "Voldemort requested that I remain here, full time, so that I could teach you whenever you're ready for me to begin. I am, as a matter of fact, legally dead. And…" Snape's smile faded and his eyes darkened. "And, Mr. Potter, I will not be able to help you return to Dumbledore, if you should change your mind about staying here. I have burned that bridge behind me."

"I understand," Harry said quietly. He couldn't imagine… not if Dumbledore wanted him to fight, and Harry genuinely believed Snape when he said that Dumbledore would demand exactly that. Not to mention… not to mention that Harry had killed too many people, too many friends, to want to go back to the Order of the Phoenix.

He knew that it was selfish of him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to go back knowing that he would have to look people in the eye when he'd probably killed a friend of theirs.

"Why would he want to go back, anyway?" The voice, from the doorway behind Severus, made Harry light up. "And what have you done to yourself, wedged under that table the way you are? Sev, out of my way. I must collect my wayward mate."

"My sincerest apologies, Regulus," Snape said. He got to his feet and backed out of the room. "Mr. Potter, please do let me know when you're ready to begin lessons. And know that Regulus is more than welcome to join us for them, provided that he doesn't critique me as I'm attempting to teach."

As Harry watched with something approaching shock, a hand appeared from the darkness behind Snape and ruffled the Potions Master's hair as Snape attempted to exit the room.

Then he was briefly alone, before Regulus slipped into the room, a small smile on his face. "You okay?" his mate asked him, gentler than his earlier words had been.

"Shaky," Harry answered. He started to try and shift out from under the table and realized something that made him wince. "And stuck. Very stuck."

"Stuck we can do something about," Regulus said. He lifted the table off of Harry at wandpoint, then settled it back down once Harry had crawled out from under it. "And shaky…" Regulus knelt in front of him and carefully gathered Harry into his arms.

Harry melted against him, the last of his tension draining away. "You came for me," he said, snuggling closer to Regulus.

"Of course I did," Regulus murmured to him. He began to carefully stroke Harry's hair, gently running his fingers through it. "I handled the Death Eater who bumped into you, and trust me when I say that such a thing won't be happening again, and then I started my search. I would likely still be looking had Nagini not come to find me. She led me here, then slithered off to do whatever it is that she does in her spare time."

"I owe her a thank you," Harry said. He was tired, now that he was safe in Regulus' arms. Tired enough that his eyes were drooping in spite of the fact that he wasn't even back in the safety of his rooms yet.

"You don't," Regulus said. He shifted Harry a bit, then asked, "You falling asleep on me?"

"I'm tired," Harry said. "Panicking is exhausting." The sentence made Regulus laugh, the sound almost like music to Harry, who didn't get to hear it often enough.

"I see." Regulus pulled back from him slightly and Harry couldn't help but cling to him, not wanting to be let go. "I'm not… I just need to stand up, Harry, and I can't do that if I'm holding you." But Regulus stopped trying to pull away, and instead pulled Harry closer until Harry started to relax again.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," Harry said quietly. His words were slurring now. He really was tired… and his arms and legs felt heavy… was he drifting off to sleep in the middle of Snape's lab?

"You don't need to apologize," Regulus said gently. "Sev, could you give me a hand?"

"Is that wise?" Snape's voice should have been enough to make Harry panic, but it wasn't. Instead, Harry finally lost the fight with his eyes and let them slide all the way closed.

"Wise? Who even knows what wise is anymore?" Regulus drew away once more, but only slightly, and there was another set of hands on Harry's shoulders, steadying him. He should be panicking about that, Harry knew that he should, but the other set of hands didn't bother him. They were gentle and… and Harry felt safe. Like he did with Regulus, almost.

"Apparently neither of us," Snape was saying.

Harry was then picked up and he curled closer to his mate, burying his head in Regulus' neck. He felt himself starting to be moved, and that was okay. Regulus would take him back to his rooms, where he was safe.

Harry stopped fighting sleep and let it happen, and sleep dragged him away immediately.

A/N: And now, introducing the second pairing for this story: Harry/Severus.