Harry just tried to stay on his feet. He looked longingly at the liquor crawling over the floor where Snape had pushed it. He could use a drink now, badly. But there didn't seem anything left, if he didn't want to lick it directly from the floor. And he was not that desperate. Or perhaps didn't really believe it would help.

Snape circled him, his eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line. He looked like a deadly animal, an eagle, or a hawk – or a vulture. Harry gulped. Yes, he was dead. So dead. Then again: How long had Snape known that he was here? Had it all been a play? All that emotion and madness – sham? Had there really been others?

He tried to stop the moving black figure with his stare: "You are evil", he said accusingly. "How long have you known I was here?" "Ah", said Snape with relish. "A sign of intelligent life under that unruly hair of yours. That I live to see the day." Harry glared harder. Had he really come here to be insulted? Hadn't he had enough of that already? He was such an idiot. "You have known all along, haven't you?", Harry screamed. "Who was here, really? No one?"

Snape smirked. "And why", he asked in a deceivingly soft tone, "would that be any concern of yours, Mr. Potter? And why should we talk about that in the middle of the night? In my private rooms even? Into which you entered without permission, as I might add. Let me get that straight: You accuse me of having known of your unwanted presence and putting up a show for you. Is that right?" Harry was mesmerised by the look of the black eyes and couldn't do anything but nod. Snape's face was very close very suddenly and his large nose nearly hit his. "Okay. Let's try again. All things considered: Which impression would your turning up in the middle of the night, under the guise of an invisibility cloak, and listening in on a teacher, give to an uninvolved observer? Hm?"

Harry felt like in class. And automatically he thought hard. THE KISS, his thoughts of Snape, his trying not to think of Snape, his considerably desperate deeds while trying not to think of Snape, his sneaking into his private rooms in the dead of the night, his well, it had felt a bit like jealousy, when Snape had talked about all the others who had or had not been here. Harry shrieked. "It's not that!" His voice didn't seem to be convinced.

Snape chuckled. "You don't say". He stapled his fingers and looked over them down at Harry. The white fingers made the black of the eyes appear even darker, Harry noticed as if for the first time. He cast down his eyes and blushed. "Look at me!" The voice of Snape commanded attention and as in class Harry obeyed automatically. Snape smirked and took to circling him again. Harry felt grateful. It was easier to watch the man's fluid movements than to have to stand still under his scrutinizing gaze.

"So you have not come to - talk – to me, Potter, just to have a – private – look? Is that right?" The potions master had stopped in his track and stood directly before Harry again. There must be a plan to that, Harry decided, simply had to. "No!", he cried again, outraged. Who would do such a thing?

Snape smirked again. "Thought so. Of course the young golden Gryffindor hero has no reason to watch his former potions teacher in private, after all the years he had to watch him in class. Who would think such a thing? Right?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Right". Then he thought about that. "Ehm?" Another evil smirk from Snape. "Then again – there must be a reason for your sneaking into my rooms in the middle of the night, Potter. Scatterbrained as you are, you always have a reason for doing what you do, however far-fetched it might be." Harry thought hard. He noticed he was panting and wondered how on earth that had come about. Reason. Right. Had he?

A hand came down and clamped on his shoulder. "You Mr. Potter are a hypocrite just like the others. Only in a little less disguise. Charming really, this little performance. Gives ample evidence that my assumptions about your brain functionality were exaggerated, low as they were to begin with." Harry blushed deeply. And really, he couldn't blame Snape. Not really. He wasn't too proud of the train of thought that brought him here, either.

"On the other hand", and the fingers dug deeply into Harry's shoulders, "I am the first to admit an error, if I should find any on my part." Harry would have become very angry, hadn't he been too busy blushing and looking down to his toes. "And I have to admit, that even I wouldn't have thought you capable of doing something so outrageously" – Harry shivered as the voice of Snape became deeper and lower with each syllable – "silly. Insolent, yes, brazen, even. Of course: Foolishness together with impudence, teaming up under the guise of courage, have always been a Gryffindor speciality." Harry would have nodded, but he still stared to the ground. Nice ground, that. "But you, Mr. Potter, as always, are unprecedented. The sheer amount of your brazenness astonishes even me, who should know better, after all." Harry felt he couldn't blush any further.

Another hand grabbed his other shoulder and pushed just as hard as the other already did. Harry felt compelled to look up, into Snape's face, into the black eyes that looked as unrelenting as ever. Snape looked him up and down again and Harry's eyes followed. Oh. He wouldn't have thought he could blush further. And he had been quite wrong. It was possible to blush from head to toe, literally. "Ah", said Snape, with unmitigated relish. "Even if it would appear that your deeds are not in accordance with your words. Nothing new here, too. Hm?" and with that the hands left Harry's shoulders and he felt suddenly more alone in the world than ever and very very naked.