TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Six
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
NOTES: I'm sorry, but I really couldn't resist. ; P And OH! Check out the art at http/ www (dot) fanart-central (dot) net/pic-200577 (dot) html and squee over spicysteweddemon's luffable pic! I am SO writing a chapter just for you, my dear! And Harry and Snape look JUST like I picture them, which is amazing!
SUMMARY: Harry suffers from a different sort of nightmare, someone knows more than they ought, and Severus fights to return everyone to the castle in one piece.

Chapter Six: The Frightful Snuggling

"Harry, my love," Snape murmured, tenderly embracing the youth and staring deeply into his eyes.

Harry squirmed in his sleep, sweat dripping from his somnolent body. His limbs twisted in the bedclothes as he tried to escape this horrendous nightmare.

"Mnrph. No. Nooooo," he groaned softly, face contorted in an expression of revulsion. This was not his Snape. This could not be his Snape.

The man in his dream stepped back to reveal a suddenly bare chest, tanned and smooth and rippling with muscles.

"NOOOOOOO!" Harry sat straight up in bed, his heart slamming in his chest. He gulped for air, hand flailing towards the bedside table for his glasses. What a gruesome dream! He let his head fall back against the pillow, one hand pressed to his slick chest, feeling the thunder of his pulse and rapid pants of his breath.

He slowly began to calm, thankful he'd remembered to put the Silencing Charm up. It was force of habit, since he still wasn't great shakes at Occlumency, and didn't want to wake the house if he had one of those dreams, although he hadn't since the beginning of the summer.

When he felt well enough, Harry curled onto his side and tried to get comfortable again. He hoped the nightmares wouldn't come back, but he didn't feel optimistic. He scowled at the darkness of his room. Between that bodice-ripper and Snape's earlier mood, he was sure he'd have normal nightmares for weeks.

He was really worried about the man. Snape had been distinctly out of character all evening. The Potions Master had read drippy romance poems at him, for God's sake! What was he supposed to think of that? On some level, Harry was aware that Snape had been doing it for him, trying to comply with what he assumed Harry wanted in a lover. The thought was…considerate…Harry supposed, but it just wasn't right. He hadn't minded the reading so much—Snape had a gorgeous voice, and it didn't much matter what he was actually saying—but the lengthy dissertation about Harry's many virtues was frankly disturbing. When the man had stooped to calling him his "little turtledove" Harry had run, horrified, from the room.

Something was definitely wrong.

He didn't know how to deal with it. He knew he probably ought to confront the situation and Snape, and ask what was going on, but so far he hadn't worked up the courage to do so because (a) Snape might actually tell him what was going on, and he wasn't certain he wanted to know, (b) Snape might tell him to take a flying leap, which would get him nowhere, or (c) Snape might cuddle and cherish him to death.

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take, at least not until he'd had a chance to really think things through. Unfortunately, he'd fallen asleep still pondering the plague of affection, and it had infected his dreams.

Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose, contemplating Snape's behaviour. He had to assume it all had to do with Dumbledore's letter. Either it really had been cursed, or it had contained such horrible news that it had twisted Snape's already dangerously corkscrewed mind. Perhaps the man only had months to live. That would explain it. Snape didn't want to die knowing that he could have doted on Harry more often, didn't want Harry to forget him, didn't want to leave without spending as much time with Harry as possible.

Harry swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat. But Snape was the perfect picture of health! As much as he ever was, for a greasy, pale old bat, at any rate. But…it could be something sudden. Come cancerous disease, some health-stealing hex, something that crept up and swept the life from your limbs in a matter of days or weeks.

What if Snape was really sick? And the last thing Harry had done was fled from the man like his life depended on it. He should be at Snape's bedside, right now, nursing him and assuring the man that he was loved. What must Snape think? Was he lying in bed, lonely and frightened of his fate? Was he feeling trapped within his suddenly treacherous body, aware of the life draining away? How long did he have? Every moment away from Snape was a moment wasted, a moment to be regretted for eternity!

Harry rushed from the room, blindly stumbling down the hall. "S—Severus! Open the door! Sev—please; hurry!" Harry was choking with emotion as he rapped his wand on the wood.

The door flew inward, and Snape stood over him, looking peeved and perplexed. "Potter? What the hell are you doing up at this time of night? I should—" He recoiled just slightly as Harry threw his arms around his waist, burying his dishevelled head in the crinkled nightclothes. "What's the matter?"

"I should ask you!"

"What?"

Harry looked up, eyes glistening, although he wasn't actually crying. "You—you're sick, and you didn't even tell me," he accused. His chin trembled. "How could you keep something like that from me? Oh. Oh. I don't mean to criticize. I don't want to fight—not now. Oh, Snape. And we'd hardly got a chance to know each other, too." He sniffed, shaking his head miserably. "I can't let you die. I won't let you die. I love you too much!"

Snape boggled at this. "What the devil are you going into hysterical histrionics over now?"

"How can you act like I'm overreacting? Merlin, Severus, it's your life! Didn't you think I'd be upset?"

Snape heaved a great sigh, patting the tousled head. "Harry. You've had a bad dream, that's all."

Harry brightened a little. "I did! But…some of it's real."

Snape folded him into an awkward embrace, comforting Harry more than any sentimental snuggling ever could. "Everything's fine…or no more a disaster than it usually is, at any rate. You must have had a nightmare. I'm not sick, I promise you that, barmy little bedlamite that you are."

Harry sighed, breathing in the smell of the Potions Master. "You're not fine. Everything's not fine. Something's wrong. You've been acting odd all night. You recited love sonnets at me. You coddled me. You were pleasant," he spat with some venom.

Snape rolled his eyes. "I vow never to be pleasant again. I promise to be as odious a bastard to you as I can manage. I'll not defile your ears with the likes of Byron in the future. I'll beat you day and night. Is that what you want, you twit?"

Harry managed a half-smile. "I just want you, the way you are." He looked at his feet for a moment. "What was wrong with you earlier? Why were you acting like that? You…you scared me," he admitted.

Snape ran a hand through his hair, and took a seat on the bed. He motioned Harry over, and surprised the youth by pulling him down as well to settle on Severus' lap. "I simply had a sudden reminder that my time with you will not last forever," he stated, looking earnestly at Harry. "We are living in a perilous world, and there are many risks ahead of us. Right now, I am here with you. Right now, we are safe. You are in my arms and whole and sound, and we have…a…romantic relationship, of sorts. It merely occurred to me that I ought not take this for granted. You have expressed some frustration lately with the limits of contact between us, and I was attempting to make it less onerous for you by…compromising, if you would."

Harry blinked. "Oh. I see. Then you…you're not dying?"

Snape shrugged. "Not any more than anyone is, in the course of growing older."

"Good." Harry's shoulders sagged with relief, and he gazed tiredly up at Snape. "I'll be glad to leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, but you know, I'll miss having you right down the hall. It was comforting to know you were near if I needed you, and that I could come to see you any time I wanted."

"Ha. How exactly is that going to change? I'm a bit further away in the dungeons, but you've always whipped out your cloak and come to bother me when you felt the need," Snape pointed out.

"But I gave you my Invisibility Cloak," Harry reminded the man.

Snape looked uncomfortable. "Yes…well…I've hardly had any use for it. Perhaps you should take it back. I'd feel better knowing that you had it in case of any emergencies."

"No," Harry replied in a firm voice. "And you must know that I feel the same way about you. I'll try to stay out of trouble this year, but you've been revealed as a spy, and Voldemort will keep after you because of that. I'd rather you kept it."

The man gave him a thin smile and pressed his lips to Harry's forehead. "Perhaps you'd best return to your own bed," he said quietly. "You're obviously exhausted."

Harry nodded, but made no move to get up, leaning against Snape. "I feel better knowing that you're all right," he whispered. Several minutes passed, neither man speaking.

Finally Snape broke the silence. "I suppose I could set an Alarm Charm to wake us before your detestable relatives are likely to rise," he suggested.

Harry gave him his sunniest smile. He crawled over Snape and promptly made himself at home in the bed, burrowing under the covers. "Any chance of a little snake ball?" he queried hopefully.

"Would you really enjoy that in your elephant's bed?" Snape replied, sliding in beside him. "Knowing that this is likely where the elephant himself has had wet dreams?"

"Oh, God!" Harry croaked, revolted. "Now I don't even know if I can sleep here. Haven't I suffered enough nightmares for one evening?"

Snape smiled slightly. "I performed as many cleaning charms as I could think of," he informed the youth. "It's as sterile as I could possibly make it." He watched as Harry rolled over, wiggling until he was as close to the man as he could get. He gave Snape a lazy smile, and Snape plucked the glasses from the bridge of his nose, setting them aside. The Potions Master brushed his lips against the spot where they had rested. "Sweet dreams, my little turtledove," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

"Shut up, greasy git," Harry growled, face pink.

Snape merely chuckled, curling one arm across Harry's chest.

OoOoOoOoO

The train was teeming with students. Apparently, the class of incoming first years was swollen to nearly double the usual size, and every compartment was crowded because of it. Nearly every compartment, Harry mentally amended. Even the first years took one look at Snape—who was slouched casually in his seat, one slim black leg crossing the other, glaring daggers at everyone—and took to their heels.

Harry shook his head at the man. "Why do you do that?"

The Potions Master didn't look at him, but affected an innocent air. "Why do I do what?"

"Why are you so mean to them? That last one nearly wet his pants." Harry gave him a disparaging look.

"It is hardly my fault that he regards the offer of an opportunity to learn more about the giant squid as some sort of terrible fate."

"You threatened to fill his pockets with earthworms, tie him to a twenty-five-meter rope and throw him in the lake to see what the squid 'might make of him.' It didn't sound all that educational the first time around."

Severus shrugged. "It restored the peace and quiet. Besides, you can't honestly tell me that you were delighted with the notion of spending the next two hours with him staring at you with that bug-eyed gaze."

"Well…it was a little unsettling," Harry admitted.

There was a knock at the door, and Colin and his brother entered. "There you are, Harry!" he said, beaming. "And look, Dennis, it's Professor Snape!"

"Hello, Professor Snape!" Dennis chimed in as both of them took their seats, utterly oblivious to the way the professor's face screwed up in loathing.

Harry bit back a grin. "Hi, Colin. What are you doing here?"

"Someone said there was a man in here who was offering to show the squid to the new students."

"No, they said he was offering to show the new students to the squid," Dennis corrected.

"Yeah. In any case, Dennis already met the squid, but I never did. Was it you, Professor Snape? Can you introduce me to the squid?"

Snape opened his mouth, but Harry interrupted. "It was just a joke, Colin."

Colin looked disappointed for a fraction of a second, before recovering. "Well, at least I found out where you were, Harry! You look great; did you get a lot of sun this summer? Did you grow a lot? You seem a lot bigger, to me."

Harry laughed. "I think that's just because I have clothes that actually fit."

"Oh. Yes, they do." Colin's eyes raked over Harry critically. "Holy cow. You shouldn't have to wear robes over those. It'd be a shame."

"What?" Harry blinked, glancing uncomfortably from Snape back to Colin.

"Nothing. It's just…you must have spent a lot of money on a new wardrobe, and it's too bad no one will get to see it in class." He smiled ingenuously, but Harry still felt embarrassed at the way Colin kept glancing down at the rest of his body.

"Oh. Right."

"Oooooh, look; it's Ginny Weasley," Dennis said in a hushed voice, glancing out the door. "Isn't she gorgeous?"

Colin giggled. "She's pretty, Dennis. Dennis has a bit of a crush on her," he told Harry.

"Shh! Here she comes!" Dennis squeaked. "Act natural."

Ginny undulated into the compartment, and Harry gaped. "Ginny! Flipping Fizzing Whizbees. What are you wearing?"

Ginny gave him a cat-like smile and sat down next to Colin. "Don't you like them?" she asked, gesturing to her tall, leather dragon-skin boots. "It took me three years to save up enough money." The boots almost reached her knees, and a small pleated skirt hung just above them. She'd also curled her hair, letting it fall in gleaming waves over her shoulders.

Dennis was drooling, but what Harry mainly felt was a twinge of something like envy. Even Severus was staring at her.

"Miss Weasley, you'll lengthen the hem of that skirt immediately. It is not the proper attire for a respectable young witch at Hogwarts," Snape told her briskly.

"Aw, professor," Dennis whined, and Colin winked at Harry.

"I wasn't exactly going for respectable," Ginny announced, "But I'll change it if you like." She gave a stretch as she stood. "Whoops. Dropped my wand." Bending over in a rather contrived manner, she shot Harry a sly glance over her shoulder. Their eyes met, and Ginny winked at Harry.

Uh oh, Harry thought. He had thought she was over him.

"Don't worry, Miss Weasley. I'll fix it for you," Snape said in a dangerous voice. His wand dipped slightly, and he muttered, "Protractus Distortum!"

"No, don't!" Harry gasped, reaching out as though he could grab the wand away in time. He winced as the spell hit her, surrounding her with a halo of topaz light.

The dress shimmered for a long moment, shifting colours from its original grey, to crimson, to plaid, to a mix of muddy brown and vivid pink, and it seemed to stretch and unroll, unfurling until it reached her ankles.

Everyone stared.

"Paisley?" Ginny squealed. "You turned it long and pink and brown and paisley?" She glared at the Potions Master, outraged. "You ruthless bastard!"

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, shocked.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape replied impassively. "And you'd do well to remember how truly diabolical and vengeful I can be."

Ginny brandished her own wand, muttering "Finite Incantatum." Nothing happened. She tried spell after spell, but the dress was clearly resistant to further change.

"Here, I'll try," Dennis offered eagerly. He managed to give the skirt ruffles and turn it puce. Ginny looked like she might cry. Or scream. "You—you still look nice," Dennis tried to assure her. "Only you could pull it off, and—"

The compartment door opened again, and Blaise interrupted. "Excuse me," he muttered. "If I might borrow Professor Snape for just a moment?"

Snape seemed a tad paler than usual as he rose and left the compartment, shaking Harry's hand from his robes. "I'll return momentarily," he said in a subdued voice.

Harry couldn't help but fret. What on earth did Blaise think he was doing? Why was Snape letting him do it? Harry pressed himself against the door, trying to hear what they were saying. He wished he had one of Fred and Georges' Extendable Ears.

"Want one of these?" Ginny asked, and Harry looked up to see her holding a pair out.

He grabbed them up, numbly thanking her, and she gave him a watery smile. Turning his attention back to the door, Harry heard Blaise and Severus.

"…not very much at all," Severus was growling bitterly.

"I gave you as much as I could," Blaise insisted. "Do you have any idea how hard it was—how hard all of this is on me?"

To Harry's shock, Severus' reply was soft, almost sympathetic. "I believe I have some inkling."

"Right. Well. I'm going to take up position now," Blaise responded.

The door clicked, and Harry threw himself back in his seat. Severus returned, his eyes far away. He sat beside the window and stared out intently, brooding.

"Be quiet, all of you," he commanded when Colin and Dennis became too exuberant.

"I've had enough of this," Ginny told them. "I'm going to find Hermione. Maybe she can fix my skirt."

"I'll come with," Dennis offered, hurrying to help her so that she didn't trip on her dress.

Colin gave Harry a wan smile, but didn't join them. They rode in silence; Colin gazed at Harry, Harry stared at Severus, and Severus glared out the window. Harry shifted, wanting to say something, but Snape raised a hand in warning, and Harry shut his mouth. What was going on? Why was Snape so upset?

The longer they rode toward Hogwarts, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The only sounds were from the other compartments, muted and indistinct. Harry shivered, pulling his cloak around him more tightly. Snape was so cold to him sometimes. He thought back to last year, when Snape had rebuffed him, saying that Harry's feelings weren't returned, that he didn't want Harry staying after class any more, or visiting his chambers. He remembered how horrible he'd felt when Snape had found his journal, how he'd run from the room and the rejection, how he'd sat outside the tower and sobbed until dawn, and Snape had never come to get him. Harry wrapped his arms around himself, feeling even more chilled and miserable.

"You know, it was a real shock when I found out you were with Professor Snape," mused Colin quietly. "And Blaise, too. You were hardly out of the closet before there were rumours about you being with Blaise. I didn't know what to think at first, and then I learned you really were going—"

"Be silent," Snape snapped. His body was tense, like he'd been wired too tightly.

The train jerked, throwing them all forward as it came to a sudden halt. There were screams coming from the students, sounds of fear and horror. Harry shuddered, and came to the sudden realization that the cold, the despair, and the very atmosphere had a familiar feel to it.

"Dementors," Harry whispered. "Just like third year."

Colin was curled up in a ball, his eyes round with fear, showing the whites all around his irises. "Harry—I—"

"Stay here, both of you," Snape commanded, sprinting from the compartment. Of course Harry disobeyed, and followed at once.

The train was filled with Dementors, overflowing with the black-shrouded monsters. They occupied every available space, packed into the compartments tightly, hovering above the children and trying to pull the souls from their bodies.

A handful broke away from the mass at the north end of the train, heading for Severus and Harry. Harry darted out in front of the Potions Master, determined to protect the man at all costs. He lifted his wand, but suddenly he was knocked to the ground.

"You idiot," Snape's voice thundered in his ear. "I told you to stay."

Harry barely heard the man over his mother's screams, over the high laughter, over the awful last moments of his parents' lives. There was an abrupt, jerking motion in front of his face, and he dimly registered it as Snape's hand, flinging something at the advancing Dementors.

There was a rushing sound, and a great grey tunnel opened up in the corridor, a vortex of wind roared and ripped at Harry's hair, his clothes, pummelling his face. The Dementors, making odd rattling noises, were torn from their anchors, from the children upon whom they were feasting.

The witch from the trolley cart appeared at the other end of the train, yanking the door open, and the cyclone began shifting, rumbling towards the exit, sweeping up Dementors and candy wrappers and whatever else it could whip through the air. Harry began breathing again when the witch struggled and shut the door behind it, cutting off the howling of the wind with a clunk.

"They were after me, weren't they?" Harry asked quietly.

Severus was still draped over him, shielding him. "No," he responded shortly. "They were after me."

A/N: Thanks to:
Rock and Sarcasm—I'm glad you're enjoying it! The next chapter won't be out for a while, because my beta will be out of town, but it will be the same, high-quality Snarry goodness as this one, I hope!
Aribella—For goodness sake, I actually went and looked that book up, and you can buy it online for about ten bucks. I'm gonna do it. Illustrated by Quentin Blake, so you know it's awesome. J'taime!
Kit—Thanks! I was nervous about that bit. I never want Snape to get too fluffy. I'm worried that I'll get lynched for it!
Lychee2—I may do the chapter titles eventually. I just need to get my creative juices flowing and examine each one with a cynical, snarky eye.
Valanth—At 17, I promise Harry will have hormones galore!
Claggart—Oh, there'll be more with the romance novel, I promise. It's too good a literary tool to not use! ; )
Lillyseyes—Yeah, Harry's earnestness is what I love best about him. He means well, sweet little thing that he is.
Lotrobsession—I'm glad you revived! I have the smelling salts if you need them!
Johnnydoggspitt—Cute Sev is definitely scary. And yet…it has such great potential for humour, you know? And now you begin to glimpse my true plan—to take over the world via the power of the Snarry!
Sweet Mercy—Eek! I've had computer problems myself. Yahoo has decided it doesn't like me anymore. I hate it when the machines get uppity.
Fairchilde—Oh, there are so many good possibilities for the spy role. And many applicants, I'm sure. But even more mystifying will be the person working for the other side…unless they're one and the same, of course. ; )
Casadarn—Thanks! I try to keep them relatively in character…'cept for the mushy Severus bits, of course.
Serena23—lol I may do a bonding fic eventually, but I don't think I'll take that route with this one. But…we'll see.
Miki23—Yeah, Snape's in for a rough time. But he wasn't a spy all those years for nothing! It'll be a while before Harry catches on…
Qem—I think he'd be rather hot as a pirate, don't you? I think he'd quickly tire of the salty-languaged, ill-bred sailors, though. Glad to make you snicker!
Jenonymous—Oh, Harry's klutziness is straight from my life. The trash can incident in TMP? I lived that, only it more involved a Stairmaster and a trash can and…you know how it is! I wish I could have some vodka right now. It would undoubtedly boost my SlashMuse2000, but I'm dieting and can't touch the stuff. I can be fat and funny or skinny and mundane, apparently. Curse you, God of Dieting!
And the Glossy GryffRavHuffSlythendor—Oh, so much better! And a few pounds lighter, too! Now I just need to add some weight to the fic…and some naughty!Sev, in the next chapter or two…or three…