Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. No pecuniary rewards. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.

Thank you to my Beta, Elaine! She is vastly under-appreciated, so I want to give her another set of Kudos as she often catches things as she Betas, asking me questions that smooth out many rough-spots so that you do not have to deal with them as the reader—and she is very busy in her 'real life' too!.

Chapter 40: Trouble With Harry
A wave of his wand lit his office as he swept inside only moments after seeing Rowena out of his quarters. He had been deadly serious when he told her he would deal with Potter himself. He paced his office angrily; every moment of waiting only increased his slowly burning rage. He was far, far too angry to wait until morning for this confrontation.

As Head of House, he had a great many abilities and privileges at his disposal, many of which he seldom felt the need to employ. However, tonight he informed the Bloody Baron of his need, who in turn informed Sir Nicolas.

"He approaches, Professor," hissed the Baron in a soft, wheezy voice after gliding through Severus's office door.

"Thank you, Baron," Severus said, with a low bow. He could trust that between the two ghosts, it was very unlikely that anyone saw his 'guest' leave the dormitory and traverse the corridors to his office. The Baron inclined his head and glided out through another wall.

Severus opened his door with a snap, and indeed Sir Nicolas was approaching with his charge. Again Severus bowed politely, though not as low as to the Baron. "Thank you, Sir Nicolas. I shall see that he is returned."

"I, of course, am required to inform the Headmaster of any such requests. It is merely my duty and obligation, and therefore I will execute it with all due alacrity," the Gryffindor Ghost said, pompously. Severus did not roll his eyes, but merely gave a small nod of his head in reply.

"Of course, Sir Nicolas. Thank you."

He shut the door with considerably more force than necessary and rounded on the unfortunate miscreant.

"Potter," he hissed, his face contorted in rage, "The Headmaster has offered you every manner of leniency that you have any right to wish for. I warned you before that I would not tolerate your meddling. You may be willing to sacrifice your worthless neck in some sort of glorious heroics to be immortalized forever in the Wizarding world. I, however, am NOT.

"I want to know precisely what you have done and why you have done it, and I want to know NOW."

The boy was pale and sweaty. He looked almost ill, though whether from terror at being dragged to Snape's dungeon in the wee hours of the morning, or some other reason was impossible to tell. He had not been permitted time to find his wand or his glasses, which put him at a decided disadvantage in the Occlumency department. Severus gave him no time to 'set' his defenses, but pointed his own wand at the boy.

"Legilimens!" In an instant he was inside Harry's scrambled adolescent imagery. Potter tried to resist. Later, when Severus was calm enough to be objective, he would have to admit that the brat put forth more effort than Severus would have thought him capable of exerting under the circumstances. However, in his current state Harry was no match for Severus' skill. He needed to know what Potter knew, and did not believe the dolt would be honest if his life depended on it.

The images weren't especially graphic, thank Merlin. Apparently Potter only took very short glimpses at random intervals in a pathetic attempt at something like secrecy. It seemed he hadn't gained much information, though Severus noted with some relief that Potter's perceptions conveyed a sense of pleasure and increasing trust from the Dark Lord. At least his current ordeal was not wholly in vain.

The pictures were graphic enough, though, including a few like vivid mental snap-shots from this evening. When Severus lifted his wand five minutes later, Harry collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat. Severus used every last drop of stamina he possessed to casually take his chair behind his desk and not be ill yet again.

Severus did not vomit. Potter did. Severus merely sat in his chair, eyes closed, breathing deeply as one who is trying very hard not to be violently sick and waited for Potter to finish emptying his guts.

"Evanesco," he said, waving his wand wearily at the mess when Potter seemed to have done. He waved his wand again and Potter's eyeglasses were in his hand. It was not an act of kindness—he merely wanted the boy to be able to clearly see just how much trouble he was in.

"Does Professor Lupin know what you saw?" he asked brusquely, standing up and walking over to Potter where he still sat slumped in a ball on the floor. He held out the eyeglasses; Potter took them.

"No," said Harry weakly, putting his glasses on. "I did that after I left her office tonight, after she kicked me out."

"See to it that she does not find out," he said warningly, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared down at Potter still sprawled on the floor.

"Duh."

"Manners, Potter. You appear to have held my life in your hands on a number of occasions recently, whether you knew it at the time or not. Allow me to remind you that I now hold yours, and I am far less squeamish about executing that power."

"You won't kill me. Nick knows where I am and Dumbledore probably knows by now, too."

Severus leaned over, low and menacing. He grasped a handful of Potter's pajamas in his fist and lifted the boy to his feet, bending so that their faces were only inches apart. He sneered unpleasantly, and allowed his voice to slip into the deep timbre of silken malice that Potter ought to recognize by now.

"If I wanted you dead, boy, you would have been so a thousand times over. Yet I assure you that I could have you gone in an instant, long before Dumbledore arrived. I might even be able to find time to make it look like a tragic accident.

"DO – NOT – TOY – WITH – ME," he said slowly and carefully, his voice its most dangerous silken tones. He released his fist from Harry's pajamas, and the boy all but collapsed into a nearby hard-backed wooden chair. Severus concealed all signs of personal fatigue and casually returned to his chair behind his desk.

"Explain. NOW."

Harry sat glaring silently for several minutes. Over the course of the last year, he had changed his opinions of Snape back and forth many times, though it was never very good. Still, if he was completely honest with himself—and there was no better time for self-honesty than when facing severe punishment—Snape was one of the few people that never tried to soften the truth. He might keep Harry in the dark on purpose, but he never tried to make the truth appear to be something other than what it was, harsh and ugly though it may be.

Snape also had listened to him and taken him seriously that night before Christmas when Harry had first tried to see into Voldemort's mind. Snape had even been… not grateful, but not nasty either, at the time. Harry's information then had enabled the Order to get a step ahead of Voldemort and had maybe saved Rowena from serious danger.

Every time, over the last almost six years, when Harry had suspected Snape of being one of the 'bad guys' he had been wrong. Every time. It was perhaps a sign of the boy's desperation that he was finally willing to give him some benefit of the doubt; even when everyone around him seemed to be increasing their suspicions against the Professor.

"No one around here is honest with me, not even Dumbledore. I've watched Rowena getting more and more upset lately in our Occlumency lessons. I hear some of the teachers muttering about how you're not doing your share of the night shifts and detentions anymore. Mrs. Weasley tried to get Tonks and Remus to un-invite you to the wedding because she says she thinks you've gone back to the other side. Even Remus says he thinks there's a 'leak' in the Order, but he insists that he doesn't think it's you."

He stood up and started pacing, ranting on, all the fear and anxiety of the past year pouring out of him—to Snape of all people!

"And then I hear them talking about how they have 'six months left' and everyone's intensifying my training. Moody is coming to the school three nights a week and running me through all sorts of Obstacle courses and hex deflection practices. Remus has me mucking about with Rowena's Mannequins and trying to strengthen my shields and my Patronus. Everyone's getting ready for a big battle—even Voldemort. I feel like I'm a weapon being sharpened to go to war, without any say in what they're going to use me for.

"Do they really expect me to stand up and Duel with Voldemort? I can't possibly do that! How am I going to do whatever it is they expect me to do if I don't even know what it is?"

He looked at Snape, his green eyes simultaneously frightened yet defiant.

"I can't stand not knowing what's going on. Why doesn't anyone understand that? I'm terrified! Not knowing what is going on just makes it so much worse! I can't sit around like a 'good boy' waiting to be sent off to kill Voldemort when the time comes if I don't even know what's happening or what I'm supposed to do!

"I don't even know if I can do it… if I really could kill someone, even Voldemort." His voice broke slightly, betraying his fear and his youth, his uncertainty. "I don't know if I could do it."

He stopped his pacing to face Snape's desk.

"I won't promise not to do whatever I can to learn stuff. I've got to know. So if you're going to kill me, do it now and save us all loads of trouble. I'd rather be dead than be scared witless all the time!"

Severus let the boy rant on without sound or gesture, until he seemed to have done.

"Good Lord, Potter, have you taken lessons in melodrama from Malfoy? Sit down."

He folded his hands on his desk and frowned at Harry over them. Harry sat. Snape regarded him for long moments in a very calculating silence. In the end he seemed to come to some sort of decision and relaxed into his chair as he spoke.

"I must say that aside from the pathetic self-pitying angst, that is possibly the most intelligent thing I have ever heard you articulate. If you were not terrified I would think you an even greater dunderhead than I had first surmised.

"You are not given any information precisely because you are prone to irresponsible acts of imprudence. You ignore the perilous implications of your link with the Dark Lord. This has been explained to you repeatedly. I refuse to do so again. Your stubborn idiocy puts others in jeopardy. The only assurance of the safety of those around you is for you to know as little as possible.

"You say you cannot bear your own ignorance. It seems to me that your intellectual vacuity has never bothered you before. However, I will allow that it is possible for one's perspective to change. I can sympathize with you, Potter."

Severus smirked sardonically at the disbelieving expression on the boy's face. Clearly Potter thought him incapable of 'sympathy'. "Information is power. I understand the desire for knowledge.

"I am willing to assist you in your predicament, as only I can," he said, with no attempt at false humility. "With certain restrictions, of course. If you accept, you agree to my conditions unquestioningly. If I find that you have violated my conditions, all aid will cease and you will learn precisely how skilled I am at true vindictiveness—not simple school-child punishments. Is that clear?"

Potter's look of suspicion deepened.

"What are the conditions?" he asked, warily.

"Ah!" His sarcastic smirk deepened. "You are capable of thought before action upon occasion then! Perhaps there is a wisp of hope. Never agree to anything before understanding the fine print. Very well."

Severus then began to list the 'conditions' in a slightly bored tone that nonetheless had the veiled hint of a threat beneath it. The easy manner with which he spoke suggested a great deal of prior consideration upon the subject at hand, so that it greatly resembled the rhythm and cadence of his "Brew Fame, Bottle Glory and Put a Stopper in Death" speech with which he greeted each new class.

"You will address me respectfully at all times. I am your Professor, and I have no desire to invite any level of camaraderie with my students, least of all you. Nor will I tolerate your insolence. I do this out of the goodness of my heart, Potter." He paused to savor the blatant disbelief clearly written all over the boy's face. "As we both know there is precious little of that to be had, do not test it.

"You will be available to me at my convenience. I do not have time to concern myself with trivialities like Quidditch, socializing or neglected homework. When I have time to work with you, you will be ready and available.

"You will continue to practice Occlumency, rigorously. I will discuss the matter with the Headmaster and find a suitable tutor. It is quite possible it will be the Headmaster himself. It will NOT be me.

"You will NOT go poking around for answers to questions floating around in that vacant space you call a brain. If you have a question that regards the Order, the Dark Lord, or anything in related to the war in any way, you come to ME. You do not discuss it with anyone. Lest that is unclear, allow me to be excruciatingly precise: not Granger, Weasley, Lupin, your owl or any other sentient beast, spirit, being or inanimate object. ME. I give you my word that I will either answer you honestly, or tell you as clearly as possible why I cannot give you an answer—and you will be satisfied with that and you will DROP IT.

"You will NOT attempt to make any mental contact with the Dark Lord deliberately when you are alone. It is possible that the link might prove useful. We will explore this carefully—under very controlled conditions.

"You will tell me AT ONCE if you feel that the Dark Lord is attempting any communication with you. This includes all dreams of an unusual nature, sudden change in the pain in your scar or emotional impressions that do not originate from the revolting travails of adolescence.

"Those adolescent travails you may discuss with Granger, Weasley, Lupin, your owl, or any other sentient beast, spirit, being or inanimate object because I certainly do not want to hear of them.

"You will not tell anyone that I am helping you in any way. I trust that I do not need to define 'anyone' yet again? The Headmaster will know. You may speak with him if you desire sympathy or coddling, or need someone to allow you to wallow in self-pity. When you come to me, be prepared to work."

He finished his recitation abruptly, and regarded Potter with much the same look of dislike as he did on the very first day of the 'hero's' education all those years ago. Harry gulped.

"Those are the conditions. Understand me, Potter, I will know if you violate any of them. Now. Go to bed. Come to me when you have an answer. Do not speak of this to anyone—not even the Headmaster. I will tell him, if you agree."

Harry stood up, but made no move to leave. Instead he stood there, fidgeting.

"Why would you be willing to help me?" he asked, suspiciously.

Severus raised a brow mockingly, "Potter, your bumbling around is going to get me killed. No one else seems willing or able to take you in hand. You dislike being uniformed. I dislike working with idiots."

"But what's in it for you?" Harry pursued, doggedly.

Severus traced his index finger along his upper lip, trying to conceal another smirk. The boy clearly wasn't completely ignorant to the ways of Slytherins. When did they ever do anything that did not have some ulterior motive?

"There will come a time that you and I will need to work together in order to complete our objective. Without your assistance, that objective will fail. Your willing participation and some degree of cognitive engagement would facilitate the process."

"How do I know that you're working for the right 'objective'?" Harry asked, frowning thoughtfully. "How do I know that I can trust you? How do I know that you're not really working for Voldemort? You've been looking pretty comfortable there with all your mates lately, from what I can see."

"ENOUGH!" Severus roared, slamming his fist on his desk so that a few of the bottles of gruesome potion ingredients rattled alarmingly. He scowled savagely, his black eyes glittering with barely leashed anger. He did not want to be reminded of what he had had to do tonight or any other night—especially by Potter.

Of course, from Potter's perspective gleaned from within the Dark Lord's mind, it was to be expected that Severus looked 'comfortable' among his associates—he strove very hard to give precisely that impression. Any other appearance would rouse suspicion and ruin all. None of which excused the brat from his actions, nor did Severus feel obliged to offer explanations.

"You don't," he spat. "Know this, boy. I owe you nothing. I will not tolerate you questioning my motivations, my actions or me. What I do is none of your business. Either you want my assistance or you do not. You accept my terms or forfeit my intervention. Now get out."

"No," Harry exclaimed, sounding almost panicked, desperate. "No, Professor, don't kick me out. I'm sorry, I get it. I agree. I need to agree now. I have questions. I want to ask you questions. Please. I understand about all that other stuff. I didn't mean to put anyone at risk… I just need to know."

Severus raised his brows in surprise at the sudden change in attitude. It was late; perhaps the boy was as tired as he was. Merlin knew Severus hadn't the energy to hold onto a good rage just now. He slowly allowed himself to relax back into his chair, though he held Potter's gaze with a deadly glare.

"I will hold you to the agreement, Potter. Be absolutely certain." Already the impulsive boy was nodding, and Severus sighed. "Your Gryffindor recklessness will get you killed before I can even attempt to train it out of you. Very well, ask."

"What… what can you tell me about that potion?"

A wicked smirk slowly appeared on the Potions Master's face, and Harry shuddered visibly. "You've asked a question that I can and will answer, Potter, to an extent. Before the end I will require your assistance, so it is best that you are informed. Sit."

Rowena deliberately rose very early the next morning, in spite of how late she was up the night before. She headed straight for Dumbledore's office an hour earlier than the Great Hall would open for breakfast. The Headmaster's office door at the top of his spiral stair was closed, but opened quickly when she knocked.

To her surprise, Severus was already there, sitting casually in a window alcove. He was gazing out onto the grounds as though oblivious to her entrance.

"Oh, Headmaster, Professor Snape, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I'll come back later," she said, barely glancing at Severus. It was hard to pretend to be indifferent to him when the familiar ache in her chest increased.

"Not at all, Rowena," said Albus smiling at her and waving to a chair. He waved his wand to close his door and focused his attention on her. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, it's about Harry," she said. "He's been doing a lot better in my class this term, and seems to be socializing more with his friends, but Occlumency lessons aren't going well. I know we talked about it before the Easter holiday, and I know you've been terribly busy, but I told him yesterday that I'm not willing to work with him anymore."

Severus turned sharply to look at her. He had not thought Potter was honest when he said Rowena had 'kicked him out' of her office the day before. Albus raised his bushy white brows in surprise. She explained the problem and her disappointment in Harry's continued violation of the boundaries that the Headmaster had given him. She couldn't quite keep the implied censure of Albus himself out of her complaint, since the greatest injury was the heightened distrust Harry had mentioned in regards to Severus.

"I see." He brushed a gnarled hand down the flowing beard, regarding her thoughtfully. "It is necessary, Rowena, to maintain many layers of secrecy just now. To be honest, it is not my forte. I think distrust and secrecy are very divisive, but they are sometimes necessary tools, do you understand?"

"Of course."

"Professor Snape and I will see to it that Harry gets the necessary training he needs for his Occlumency, but I wish you to continue to work with him as well. Harry will be more cooperative, I think. I ask you to give him another chance and let me know if there are any further problems."

"Oh," Rowena said, a little surprised. She didn't know what possible benefit could come from her working with Harry, but if the Albus was going to deal with the bigger issue, she had no good argument not to work with him. "Of course, Albus. I don't really mind. He's actually a nice kid considering everything he's been through. I'll talk to him after class today then."

"Thank you, Rowena. Harry needs all the practice he can get, of all his skills. Don't dismiss your own contribution. We'll see you at breakfast in a bit then, alright?"

Knowing a dismissal for what it was, no matter how gently presented, she left obediently.

"She's a very remarkable young woman. She still takes your side after everything. It would not shake the foundations of the universe for you to be a little less aloof with her, Severus," Albus said. Severus still sat in the alcove near the window, and Albus sat in his chair, facing the door through which Rowena had just left, so that his back was to Severus.

"Hmm," Severus said noncommittally. He was actually exceedingly pleased that he had indeed been successful in concealing… whatever it was that was happening between him and Rowena. If even Albus Dumbledore had not noticed, he could be a bit more confident that his 'secret' remained secure. "She is better off. I do not believe we are here to discuss my interpersonal skills or lack thereof. You did send for Potter, did you not?"

"Is she? This is apparently some new definition of 'better off', of which I was previously unaware," said Albus, swiveling his chair to look at his friend. Vivid, twinkling blue eyes met glittering pitch black ones in a clash that was almost audible. Both men arched brows in an almost perfect mirror of one another, and in an instant Albus chuckled warmly.

"Very well, Severus. Suit yourself; keep your secrets. You look like death warmed over and your normally scintillating personality has become a tad abrasive these days, but never mind. Perhaps you are 'better off' as well?"

Severus snorted softly, "I do not need to be 'better off', Albus. I live in paradise. My existence is blessed. I'm about to be given the honor of spending what miniscule free time I can scrimp together with the Hero of the Wizarding World. What more could a man wish?"

As though on cue, Harry Potter was escorted into the room by Sir Nicholas and Snape's sarcasm was cut short. When the office was sealed and even the portraits were vacated, the three fell to discussion, with Albus leading and mediating. In less than twenty minutes, they had come to the perfect understanding; which is to say, none of them were completely satisfied with the outcome.

To his extreme vexation, Potter seemed to take their new agreement as an open-door policy to his office. Severus nearly snapped his quill when he heard his office door shut and looked up to see the obnoxious boy standing there already, only a few short hours after their meeting with the Headmaster.

"What, Potter?" he asked irritably. "What could you possibly want?"

To complete the provocation, the boy wonder was grinning. Nervously, it was true, but grinning nonetheless!

"Hello, Professor Snape. I figured this part was s'posed to be secret, too, so I thought I'd better ask someplace where no one could hear. Are you coming to Remus's bachelor party? I mean, you are standing up with him as Best Man, so it's sort of traditional. Dumbledore already said I could use the Room of Requirement on the Friday before the wedding, and he'll make sure of the security stuff. It'll just be Order Members, well, and me since I'm organizing it," the boy's scrawny chest actually puffed out proudly at this last. "Traditionally it ought to have been your job as Best Man, but I figured I'd do that part since I don't suppose you'd have done it on your own."

Severus had often been told that his glare could kill, melt glaciers, and liquefy stone, as well as a variety of other similes that were amusing if nonsensical. He had never wished it to be true more than now. If such a thing were true, Harry James Potter would be nothing more than a steaming puddle of greasy human remains rather than a grinning teenaged brat who had just invited him to a bachelor party.

"That is perhaps the most ridiculously absurd question I have ever been asked within the confines of these walls, which is saying a great deal. I am flummoxed as to whether to extract points for audacity or grant them for heretofore unparalleled heights of stupidity."

He bared his teeth at Potter in a malicious parody of Harry's boyish grin, "When in doubt, ten points from Gryff…"

"Oy! I was just trying to, you know, get along. Professor Dumbledore said we should try…"

"I am perfectly capable of civility without needing to engage in drunken idiocy, Potter. The Headmaster's instructions did not entail 'socializing', nor does our agreement. Now get out or I will take those points," Severus said harshly.

"Yes, Sir, sorry for irritating you. I was only trying to be nice. You'd be welcome if you want to come," Harry said.

Not wanting to give Snape the chance to hex him, Harry didn't waste any time moving to the door—though he saved his trump card for last. Severus mentally dismissed him as soon as he turned away, and was already reading the insipid essay before him when Potter turned back, one hand on the door latch.

"I've noticed something in my Occlumency with Rowena lately. She's been really pleased to know that you've agreed to stand up with Remus, and that he asked you to begin with. I think it means a lot to her that you two are getting along better. I haven't seen her that happy in a long time."

He shrugged, "Oh, well. I'm sure she'll understand why you didn't want to come. It's not like you really wanted to be friends with either one of them or anything. See you in class then."

The door shut with a soft 'snick' to leave Severus glaring at it in silence.

Bloody Hell!

A/N: Again I invite you to visit my Live Journal account at I am 'weasleyfan', if you are interested in detailed Author's Notes in regards to this chapter.

Thank you for your comments, questions, and reviews. They help me keep myself on track and ensure that I am conveying to the reader what I am trying to get across.