Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part I : Severus
Chapter Three : Uncle Sevvy

Thursday : 10 June 1999

Snape summoned Draco the next afternoon to his office after hearing of some heated arguments in the Slytherin common room that morning. 'Just the opening I need without having to be too obvious, or gods forbid, chance the revelation I'd witnessed their little rendezvous. No, a discussion on Malfoy's 'points' will be the perfect lead-in.'

Snape had his own point system for the lower form students as well as the graduate students, who were either like Malfoy--at risk in the outside world because he'd defied his Death Eater parents, or like Potter--in danger because of who he was. They and others had stayed for Auror training in the Defense Arts and fought out of Hogwarts. As a condition of their safety, they had to adhere to the same rules they had for their lower years, although they were excused from the curfew.

A prank well-thought out, which lost points outside the house, would usually earn points inside but could lose them if mismanaged. Ambition was rewarded but not at the expense of allies; enemies were, of course, fair game. Severus' points were about thought. The Slytherins could appeal, of course, but their arguments had to be near perfect for him to change his mind. So far, of this batch, only Blaise and Draco had ever succeeded in appealing points over the years.

Draco entered his office with the same intrepid mien many Slytherins wore while mentally rummaging through all their recent transgressions, trying to find the one drawing the private interview with their Head of House. Snape relished the look and made every effort to at least seem like he knew what all those sins were. Father Confessor he was, deliverer of penances. He let Draco squirm a few minutes in silence; he knew he wouldn't be the one to break it.

Draco broke first. "About this morning, sir," he began, "Pansy had it coming. The stupid bitch just wouldn't leave me alone. Pick, pick, pick. I had to do it, sir. She'll get it back by tomorrow."

Snape regarded him from half-closed eyes. "Zeroed-out, Mr. Malfoy. Five for unbecoming language, ten for lack of control, and ten more for removing Miss Parkinson's mouth however deserved it may have been."

'Might even be a good time for her to start that diet she's always whinging about,' he thought uncharitably. "I suggest you do something useful for a while to bring your score up before we start discussing the other incidents this morning." He paused to let it sink in, carefully watching Malfoy's reactions. 'Good, I have his attention and his anger. I can work with that.'

"Now tell me, why? Not what happened, not what you did. These occurrences are much too petty to upset the calm contemptuousness I've come to expect out of you. They're mere trifles. What's upset you enough to lose your much vaunted control, Draco? What external influences affect you so?" His voice was low and silky, inviting confidences.

Draco turned his head to the side with a sly contemplative face. Snape knew the look well--Draco was unsure of how much he should say, how much Snape knew. The consideration of his enemy's knowledge before replying was one of the few things he admired about the young man. "Potter, sir. It's Potter," he finally said, stealing a glance as if to see how it had been received.

"Mr. Potter?" he mused, feigning deep thought, "How is it possible Potter, of all people, has got under your skin?"

Draco lowered his eyes, seemingly shy, but Severus had caught the glint of subterfuge. He'd not been a spy for nothing. He could read better men's hearts and motives from farther away than he was now from this young upstart. He narrowed his eyes when Draco said quietly, "I love him, sir," his hand pleating the full sleeve of his robes.

He briefly watched Draco's restless hands, the way they moved to the desk, clenched into fists and then were willed open, the fingers still white with tension. Draco would not meet his eyes; they roamed all over the space behind Snape, anywhere but on his face. Severus mentally snorted, his own 'senses' pricked, 'What a liar. I hate liars.' He raised a brow, a small smile twisting his lips. "Really, Mr. Malfoy? Do tell," he drawled, sounding unconvinced.

Panic and something akin to desperation flashed across Draco's face and he made a visible effort to calm himself. Grey eyes finally met obsidian when he said, "Really, Professor. We've been lovers for months."

'Panic? How interesting.' The sight of it started a new train of thought below their conversation. He knew it was significant, just as he knew his back brain would figure it out eventually. In the meantime, he needed to goad some further responses out of the insolent Hooray. He waved his hand dismissively. "Mr. Malfoy, having sex is not being in love. I would've thought you could appreciate the difference by now," he said sanguinely, referring to the many lovers Draco had claimed over the years.

Interested in the cold calculation Draco let slip, Snape sat up and leaned forward, his hands folded calmly on the desk in front of him. "Mr. Malfoy, I am neither blind nor stupid." The intensity of his words and his unexpectedly fierce glare made Draco suck in a breath and hold it. "If you wish to deceive the rest of the world about your affections, then by all means do so but do not ever make the mistake again of trying to do so with me."

Draco let out the breath he was holding in a rush, making a noisy sigh. Severus smiled inside even as a twist came to his lips, "I can easily accept Potter may be a good lay and can even stretch it to think you may even hate him less than you do everyone else, but you're by no means in love with him and we both know it. Be careful whom you choose as your playmates, Draco. Children have been killed in the yard, even in innocent play."

Snape could see Draco heard the unspoken words, 'And you're no innocent', with a shudder. 'This is no child's game he is playing then,' Snape thought, watching Draco's badly shaken confidence return in slow stages.

Draco sighed, obviously trying a different tack. "You may very well be right, sir, but there's something about Potter that draws me, like a moth to a flame. I can't seem to stay away."

Snape was taken aback to hear his own comments of the day before oozing out of Draco's sentiments. He had a dawning suspicion Draco was deliberately misdirecting him as to who was the moth and who was the flame. There was also Malfoy's reaction to his words about killing to consider. This needed thought and his back brain was clamouring for attention. "You're drawn to his power, like many others before you," he stated implacably. This was an interesting piece of the puzzle; it dovetailed neatly into others on the back burner. The urge to get rid of Draco was almost overwhelming. "Heed my words, Mr. Malfoy, and take great care you don't get burned by the flame you so assiduously nurse."

Eyeing him carefully, "May I go now, sir," Draco drawled insolently.

Snape hesitated, thinking it might be amusing to see him squirm for a while, but he had too much to consider to truly enjoy it. "By all means, Mr. Malfoy. Always a pleasure to chat with you. And don't think I've forgot all the other lovely things you've got into recently. You're seriously overdrawn in the point bank."

Draco threw him a sharp glance before rising from the chair in front of the desk, making his hasty retreat.

'That was charming,' Severus mused, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled wide under the desk. The back burner was working overtime, so he cleared his mind of extraneous thoughts and just let it simmer. Two things rapidly became evident--Draco was up to no good concerning Potter; there was an oily, almost evil feel to the whole incident. The other was Draco's startled reactions to the mention of "killing" and "innocence". The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was; Malfoy intended to harm Harry.

His ruminations ran to the day before. Draco had somehow known about Harry's defection from the ranks. And Malfoy was too good a player to have made the stupid mistakes he appeared to have made. Had Draco truly been involved with Harry, he might have seen it as a possibility, but given he'd made all but an open admission as to his true feelings for Potter, the whole thing stank of collusion. 'With someone inside? Certainly not Harry. Or perhaps--outside?' he speculated, almost convinced he was on the right track. 'This is odd. Is it possible? Draco not working for his own agenda?' Putting it together with the other things he'd observed, he began to get an ugly portrait of Malfoy's potential intentions.

He snorted at his own folly. 'But why?' He couldn't shake the notion Harry was in danger. Over the past years he'd learned to trust his instincts when working with the young man; it had saved both their lives on several occasions. His hackles were raised now, the warning clear. 'Draco is the danger.' He knew this with the same certainty of danger he'd felt the day they'd killed Voldemort last month.

He got up from his chair and started to pace, hoping the blood flow to his brain would rid him of such ridiculous notions. 'I'm getting too old for this when the babes are playing the same games as the adults. Only the 'babes' are now adults as well, aren't they?.' Which made the whole thing even more unlikely. 'Can't give it up, can you Severus? Always seeing the conspiracies? Paranoid bugger, aren't you?' However, the little nagger residing in the back scolded him with equal force; his paranoia had saved his life too many times to be entirely ignored. The words spiralled through his head, convincing him a revelation was near.

'Enough! This is getting me nowhere. Too many thoughts. They need to simmer a while longer before I can sort any kind of coherency out of them.' He left his office, surprised to note the sun was long gone, dinner but a memory. 'Good thing I'm not really hungry. Well, it's almost time for my nightly rounds anyway. The walk should also help clear the cobwebs and get these fanciful thoughts out of my head.'

****

He roamed the hallways, lost deep in his thoughts. The few students who scampered out of his way were bemused by his silence, his lack of biting response and flogging comments about their being out-of-bounds. They heaved huge sighs of relief as he passed and went back to what they were doing, the excitement of almost getting caught enhancing their nighttime activities. Snape would have been appalled had he known how 'stimulating' his ghostlike presence had been.

He made his way up to the Astronomy Tower and climbed onto the battlement where the telescopes were set up at night. Making his rounds, he was about to leave when he got that feeling again; Potter was here. He sharpened his attention, settling on a spot halfway up the walkway at one of the crenelations. Given the thickness of the walls, he was probably sitting in it. 'Hmmm, left or right?' The left one felt better, so he made his way down to it, sitting in the notched opening, facing inwards. He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"It's too cloudy for any real sky-watching this evening, don't you think, Mr. Potter?" The heavy sigh was not unexpected.

A disembodied voice wearily said, "I guess I should be glad House Points are no longer an issue."

Severus snorted, "No, they're not, but that doesn't mean you should be here in any event. And I must point out, it's very unsettling having a conversation with thin air. You may be an adult now, but your manners leave much to be desired."

Harry gave a dry chuckle, "I suppose it is, but I like it this way. It's less--complicated."

Severus smiled wryly. "Very well, since you've voluntarily left your manners in your rooms, I suppose I can leave mine there as well. Tell me, Potter, why are you here?"

The normal snide quality of his voice was missing and he could sense Harry hesitating, unsure of his motives. Snape couldn't honestly blame him--his reputation for biting comments, especially to him, was well earned. He snorted in amusement; the resigned sigh coming out of the darkness told him Harry had decided it would make no difference. Honesty coloured his voice as he replied, "I'm sure you've heard I've left the Auror training and that a certain person was extremely unhappy with me about it."

"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy. I would venture to say 'unhappy' might be a tad understated. He spent the better part of this morning defending your honour and his relationship with you to the rest of his housemates who, I might add, are mystified as to what he sees in you that brings out such a heated response." He waited for a reply, quite curious.

"I don't know why he would bother. It's not like we're in love or anything," Harry stated flatly.

'That's unexpected given what I saw yesterday, but confirms what I suspected given what I know of Draco.' He kept his voice even as he asked, "So you don't have a relationship?"

"We fuck. We fight. I'm not sure that qualifies as a relationship," he said. As if expecting a reprimand, Harry apologised, "Sorry, Professor."

Severus laughed outright, a mocking sound made often around the staff but never before the students. "No apologies are necessary, Potter. I only wish I'd seen some of my own dalliances with such clarity. How long have the two of you been--together." He found himself hoping it had not been too long.

"Not long at all, a little over five months, I think," he replied.

Severus did some mental calculations. 'That's longer than we thought and about the time our raids became less effective. Bloody hell, what is Harry into now? How serious is this affair?' He suddenly found he had to know. "Since I'm being inexcusably nosy, I have to assume from your statement that you don't love him?" he asked, the answer, for whatever reason, was important to him. 'And why would I care beyond the implications to the Order?' he chided himself.

Not noticing the intimacy of the question, Harry talked to himself out loud. "Hmph. Love? No. Lust? Definitely, he has his talents. Draco doesn't love me, never has. He wants something; what I haven't a clue. His reaction yesterday made that perfectly clear, and to be honest I think his whole response at my withdrawal from the Auror training was more about something I couldn't give him anymore than it was about losing contact with me."

'Very observant, better than I would've given you credit for.' He added it to the pile on the back burner. He was curious about Harry's take on what he'd seen the day before. "What was his reaction?"

Snape could almost feel his shrug. "Other than the usual shouting, making me feel worthless, and expecting to fuck my brains out afterwards as my reward for being such a good little victim? It was pretty tame."

For the first time since they'd started this conversation, Severus was at a loss. 'What does one say to something like that?' He gamely waded in. "Well, I certainly hope you did not reward him."

Harry's smile lit up his voice, "Not this time. I think that pissed him off more than anything else. But I was--" He stopped suddenly as if remembering who he was talking to, "--I'm sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with all this."

"Actually, it's not too much of a bother, but I admit to some curiosity. Why are you talking to me about it?

He again felt the shrug. "I don't know, it's almost like talking to yourself, only getting better advice than you would've received had you answered."

Severus chuckled at the statement. He actually understood it. "What advice do you think you need?" he finally asked.

"I don't know. I say that a lot, don't I?" He laughed shortly. "I was sitting here earlier thinking it would be so easy to just tip over the edge and not have to worry about it any more."

Severus sat up in alarm. 'Good gods!'

Harry chuckled. "Don't panic. It's only thoughts. I wouldn't do it; I'm either too scared or too stupid depending on my frame of mind at the time."

"You've thought of this often?" He held his breath for the answer. He might just have a bigger problem than Mr. Malfoy.

Harry sighed. "A few times, not often. It's just--you know I thought it would be different somehow."

"What would be different?"

"This whole Voldemort thing. I thought we'd be done with him and then things would be--different. Only they're not. But they are."

Severus began to get a glimmer of what was happening and it made him angry they'd not seen it coming. "I think I see what you mean. He'd be gone and everything would change for the better? The job's finished, time to get on with your life?"

His voice faltered and he continued on slowly, more to himself than to Harry, "Only the job's still there, but you're tired, you don't want to do it anymore. However, it's all you do, all you are. The entire picture of yourself has been wrapped up in one future moment, one goal, one act. And when it's finished, done and over, all you're left with is the emptiness. You wonder if you're condemned to forever rest pathetically on a fading past glory, or worse, damned to always do the things you hate the most?"

"What good am I now?" he heard Harry whisper. "It's all I have and I don't want it anymore."

Severus felt his way along the issue carefully. "It may have been all you've accomplished to this point of your very young life, but it is certainly not all you have." He realised he was talking to himself as much as he was to Harry. He continued in a soft but intense voice, "One does not have to be useful to have worth, Harry. Don't ever forget that."

Harry was silent for a long time, obviously thinking on his words. "Yes, it's a whole question of worth, isn't it? Do I have any? Do I have any value left?" he asked quietly. Snape was suspicious he'd not intended to say that last bit out loud.

"Tell me Harry, what is it you like to do? What might you want to do if there were no obstacles?" he asked trying another tack knowing he wasn't going to convince the young man of his value in one moonlit conversation.

"I don't know." he replied, at a loss.

Snape came out to play for a while, replacing the kinder Severus, his voice challenging and sneering, "That's not an answer, Mr. Potter. It's a miserable excuse. Don't tell me you've been out here for hours wasting your time; I don't believe it."

Harry laughed as if it were a huge joke. "Well, that's certainly more in character than 'tell Uncle Sevvy your problems'. It was hard enough to get used to Albus insisting we call each other by our first names when we worked together, but this concern of yours is almost scary," Harry said wryly. "Do I dare tell you, or will you laugh in my face?" Snape made no reply, stunned for once into silence.

Harry hesitated a long moment. "Somehow, I don't think so. There's something different about you tonight. Or with me. There's something different about me tonight." This time his pause felt contemplative and he continued his voice more optimistic, "I'm not sure it's a matter of what I want to do as opposed to what I'm able to do."

Snape decided to ignore his little diatribe and sneered, "That's a poor start; you're still waffling. It's a simple question, even for you, Potter" he retorted, his patience waning.

"Are you always this impatient?" Harry asked heatedly.

"Are you always this obtuse?" Snape shot right back.

They sat in silence a moment. Then the chuckles started.

"You really are a prick, sometimes," Harry commented.

"About damn time you figured it out," Snape snapped. "Now Answer The Question."

"Oh all right, sir," he bit out. "Let's start with what I do badly--Potions." He stopped--Snape did not rise to his bait. Harry went on, "History of Magic, and Divination, although I'm not sure that qualifies as something one can make a living at, though Trelawney sure tries hard enough." Snape sniggered.

"Next let's look at what I'm not too bad at. Transfigurations, Astronomy, and Herbology." He stopped again. Snape snickered, knowing from the way he ground out every word and with his pauses that this angry Harry was calling him every 'git' in the book. "Then there's what I do pretty well--Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Quidditch, and opening locked cabinets. Now there are some real career opportunities."

"And lest we forget, what I do exceptionally well," he choked on what suspiciously sounded like a sob, "staying alive and either getting other people killed or killing them outright. I do these things very well indeed."

'Well, that either requires a full answer or none at all.' Clearing his throat, Severus said tartly, "Once you decided to set your mind to it, your Potions work was almost adequate. As to the rest--I cannot comment except to the last bit. I think you've taken entirely too much on yourself in that regard."

Enunciating each word clearly, Harry asked bitterly, "How would you know?"

Severus could feel the long-held anger and self-loathing boil to the surface, threatening to erupt. He stood up and paced the battlement, his voice ringing with his anger and self-disdain. "Did you honestly think you were the only one who did distasteful things during this war? Did you imagine you were the only one to lose friends--lovers--and enemies? The only one who killed with your bare hands or through curses which made your skin crawl for weeks?"

Harry removed his cloak, stunned at the outburst.

"Did you participate in unspeakable events so you could bring back the one dribble of information which could save hundreds even as it sacrificed dozens?" His voice dropped, the anguish evident in it, "While you watched helpless, unable to stop it?"

He got off the wall and approached Snape, his broken heart in his face.

"Were you so wrapped up in your secure little Hogwarts it escaped your notice that others risked as much, suffered as much, if not more than you? And of course, you are the only one who survived, who walked away from it injured, everyone else escaped intact, full of love for themselves and their fellow man. Oh yes, Mr. Potter. You are so unique! So vilified. Only you bear the guilt for the whole bloody thing!"

He whirled around, intent on leaving the area, ashamed of his outburst. 'Well, that was one of my finer moments,' he thought, his anger now directed entirely at himself. 'I promised myself I wouldn't do this.' He almost trod over Harry who was blocking his path.

"Get out of my way," he snarled, moving closer as if to sweep him away.

"I'm so sorry, Severus." Harry whispered, the name still unfamiliar to his tongue, his eyes brimming. "I-I wasn't thinking. It's just--It's just so hard, sometimes--" He bit his bottom lip and hung his head as the tears started to fall. He turned his head away in a futile attempt to stop them, or at the very least, hide them.

"Oh, hell." Severus folded him in his arms, absorbing the younger man's naked sobs in his robes, his own wetting the top of Harry's head. He put his cheek on his hair whispering, "Damn you, Harry. Damn me, too." He tightened his hold even as Harry tightened his and thought, 'We're both damned.'