AN: A note on dates, it is the new year now in the story, so January 1998 is in the past, and January 1999 is the present. Also I don't know if content warnings for swearing is necessary, but there is a lot in this chapter.

January 2nd, 1999

Harry patted his pockets as he walked around his flat, glancing at every surface. He'd never been the neatest person; his aunt had had many things to say to him about the state of his bedroom after he'd gone with Dumbledore to find Slughorn. But he usually knew where his wallet was…. Finally spotting it, Harry shoved it in his pocket, threw on a scarf, and tripped out the door.

He'd gone out a few times since the article had been released, getting a little less wary each time. The staring hadn't stopped, but no one was shouting at him either. Because he was so close to the Leaky though, it didn't really matter this time.

They'd snagged a table in the middle of the Leaky, Seamus bellowing his name as soon as he'd stepped through the back door. It was a long table, similar to those at the Hogwarts Great Hall, and Harry took a spot in the middle next to Ron.

"Butter beer or regular beer?" Dean asked. Both were on the table, and it appeared that they'd ordered enough for two or three pints a person.

"Butterbeer first," Harry said, grabbing his glass. It was warm and cheery in the Leaky, and Harry was happy to sit down with his friends and relax, for the first time without fear of Voldemort on the back of his mind.

"How's it been, Harry?" Neville asked. He had a plate of pasties in front of him, which seemed to be shared with everyone at the table.

"All right," Harry said, with a shrug. "A busy few weeks."

"No kidding," Dean said. "You don't do things by half."

Harry grinned, taking another gulp of butterbeer. "I'm trying to get used to boring."

"Well, we're not here to celebrate that," Ron said. He held up his pint and the rest of the table joined.

Harry held his own up, his face starting to turn red. Ron hadn't said the exact reason they were meeting up, and Harry really hoped it wasn't because of him coming out.

"To Harry! Who finally got a fecking job," Seamus said, holding up his pint.

"What do you mean finally?" Harry laughed, with a bit of relief.

"Yeah, you lazy bastard," Ron said, clinking Seamus's glass.

"It's been seven months," Dean said, grinning.

"Eight," Neville corrected.

"Yeah, eight. We were beginning to think you peaked at killing You know Who," Dean finished.

"You're all tossers," Harry said, gesturing around the table with his glass in hand. "Every last one of you."

"Course we are," Ron said, stretching and bumping Harry's shoulder. "Go on then, tell'em about your job."

The din of the Leaky was just enough that their conversation was mostly quiet, and other than a few people glancing over at the group of them, Harry felt like this was normality restored. He took a breath, noting that his friends were watching him with real interest, and felt encouraged by that. He knew that wand lore was considered boring by most younger witches and wizards, but he'd become fascinated by it.

"You all remember Ollivander telling us that the wand chooses the wizard?" Harry asked, pulling his own wand out of his pocket. "It's true, and the wand works best when it's properly matched – core and wood – with its owner."

He had their rapt attention and Harry felt like he was back in the DA, sharing his knowledge.

"People change though. Sometimes naturally, sometimes after a big or traumatic event. Their wands lose some of their power, because the wizard they matched with isn't the same anymore."

He turned his wand over and pointed out the walnut he'd added to his.

"What I do is look for something to add or to change, to make the match a good one again."

"Huh," Seamus said. "So, you're saying if our wands aren't working perfectly, you can add some wood and fix them."

"Sort of," Harry said. "It's a bit more nuanced than not working perfectly."

"Seamus just wants to know if you can make things stop exploding so much around him," Dean laughed.

"Piss off," Seamus said, grinning. "Came in handy during the battle, didn't it?"

Dean threw a piece of sausage roll at Seamus, rolling his eyes.

"When do you start, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Next week," Harry said. "There'll be a little sign in the window, that's all. I'm not doing a grand opening or anything."

"Yeah, I'm sure people won't notice the Chosen One opening a wand repair business," Ron laughed.

Conversation flowed pretty well after that, Harry learning what his friends had been up to over the months that he'd been away. He didn't regret leaving; it had been good for his mental well-being to be away from the accolades and the fall out of the battle. He couldn't help feeling a bit that he'd missed out on some things though. Harry shook his head a bit and grabbed another beer. There was no use moping about it now, and he pushed it aside to enjoy the evening.

The chatter turned to university prospects, and then on to quidditch teams and how the English league was starting back up again. Harry didn't say much, as it had been a while since he'd had the time to follow any of the teams. He did look up during one of Dean's rants about Wimbourne and how they'd traded a very important player, and saw a younger witch passing through the Leaky staring at him. She had short hair and a muggle canvas rucksack slung across her shoulder, with a pierced nose. She raised her fist up at him and nodded, passing by a table of older witches and wizards on the way to the gate for Diagon Alley.

"Do you know her?" Neville asked, nodding toward the witch that had disappeared.

"I don't," Harry said, shaking his head. But he'd seen that raised fist before, done it himself, on demonstrative walks with Alice and Luke in muggle London. Protesting Section 28, protesting for trans rights. And he knew what it meant. There were other non-straight witches and wizards in the magical world, and at least one had read his article, and made herself known.

…

"Harry, tell me this," Dean said, his elbow on the table and beer glass in his hand, that he pointed in Harry's general direction. "How long have you known? About the gay thing?"

They'd been drinking and chatting for a while by then, and Harry had expected the questioning.

"For a few years," Harry said. He'd been drinking slower, as had Neville, and was patient as he waited for Dean's next question.

"I thought you went out with Cho though."

"And my sister," Ron pointed out. Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, well you suspect, and then you deny it, and then you wonder again, and then you admit it," Harry said. "Then you wonder how homophobic people will be, and if you should tell anyone at all."

"Well, we don't care," Seamus said, nodding at Harry with authority.

"Are you dating anyone, Harry?" Neville asked, picking at the pasty crumbs on the plate. They'd gone through the whole plate, and had shared a platter of meats, cheeses, and potato wedges as well.

"Yeah," Seamus hiccupped. "You have a boyfriend now?"

"Nah, I had one," Harry said, "in the muggle world."

"No one now?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes. Harry kicked him under the table.

"Guess there's not a lot of 'em," Seamus said. "Gay wizards."

"I don't know any others," Dean agreed.

"You'd be surprised," Harry evasively said.

…

January 4th, 1999

"That was such a ridiculous film," Alice said, bumping into Harry a little as she walked. There was an event going on at Borough Market, and she expertly led him through the crowd of business-casual celebrants. She'd had a glass of wine, but Harry hadn't felt much like drinking.

"You have the worst taste in them," Harry said. "Really. Do you just pick based on what actor you think looks good?"

"Of course," Alice said. The sounds of the market event dimmed as they rounded the corner toward Alice's street. It was a dark, drizzly night in January, and Harry wasn't surprised to find the streets mostly deserted.

"Sometimes you have to go for the eye candy," Alice said.

"I like to think I'm not that superficial," Harry sardonically said.

He suddenly shot forward, stumbling, his right arm burning in pain as his body stiffened.

"What, Harry!" Alice said, leaning forward to help him. The cruciatus curse was weak though, and Harry was able to fight it off almost immediately. He spun and had his wand drawn within seconds, not caring that Alice could see it.

"Protego!" Harry cast, protecting them both. Alice froze beside him, but Harry couldn't tell if it was because of the surprise or the sight of his wand.

"I can't believe you're the one they call the hero," a male voice said, standing only fifteen feet away. There were two of them, and though Harry immediately recognized Draco Malfoy, it took him a little longer to place the second.

"The war's over," Harry said, trying to grip his wand tightly. His nerves were burning, and he knew he'd have to switch hands soon. "Let it go."

"I'm not going to fucking let it go," the second one spat on the floor. His hair draped forward a bit, and Harry realized who he was. Theodore Nott. "You've got some nerve, coming back to our world, prancing around like an inferior halfblood pansy."

"I don't prance, Nott," Harry said. He noticed that both Malfoy and Nott had their wands out, but he wasn't sure who'd cast the cruciatus.

Alice stepped a bit closer to Harry, and muttered what the fuck under her breath.

"But you are inferior," Nott said. "You all are, and here's proof. You can't even fuck right."

Alice, baffled as to what was going on but sensing that there was danger, stiffened at the last statement. Harry knew she was a fighter though, and stepped in front of her to prevent her from going after them.

Nott took advantage of Harry's movement to cast another spell, but Harry easily blocked it. His arm was seizing on him but he managed to get off a stinging hex.

"A stinging hex?" Malfoy sneered. "What are you, twelve? We're going to destroy you, Scarhead. We're going to run you out of Diagon Alley. Nobody wants a bent bastard making wands for them, and after what you did to my father, I'll make sure you're ruined."

"You'll ruin me?" Harry challenged, still keeping his wand focused. "When's the last time you showed your faces at the Ministry, Malfoy? Nott? Who's the one with the bad reputation exactly?"

"You think I care about the Ministry?" Nott asked, firing another quick spell at Harry. Harry blocked it with a grunt, and switched to his left hand. "You and your fucking sob stories, but you don't care about making other people into orphans."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Alice demanded, standing taller and puffing her chest out a bit. She was a little taller than Harry, and he appreciated the support, but she was absolutely not intimidating to either Malfoy or Nott.

"Godric's Hollow, you cunt," Nott said, spittle punctuating his words.

"You killed our fathers," Malfoy said, pointing his own wand at Harry. Harry noted that it was a different wood type than his last one. "And we're going to enjoy destroying you."

"If you even live that long," Nott said, stepping closer. Malfoy grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"We can't actually kill him," Malfoy hissed, but his words were lost in a flurry of spells that Nott cast.

Harry felt a rush of adrenalin as he waved his wand back and forth like he was weaving threads in the air. It was easy; he felt power flowing through his left arm and out to his wand, casting aside their hexes and sending his own back in a fluid motion. He easily protected Alice from being hit by either magic or debris, and created a swirl of rubble from the street and part of the brick wall beside them that rippled through the air and shot at Malfoy and Nott.

"Are you done?" Harry shouted, above the roar of the brick that had surrounded them, but weren't battering them.

"Harry," Alice said, her voice almost a warning.

They couldn't fight their way out of his spell, and he could tell that they were trying their best to. Harry knew he had to end it before they became suspicious, before they realised that he still had it. That he was still the master of the Elder wand.

He killed the tornado of debris with a slash, and stared at them, their hair wild and both panting, like Harry was.

"Cruci–"

"IMMOBILUS!" Harry cast, powerful enough to freeze both of them at once. They leaned awkwardly against the wall, and only their eyes moved as Harry approached.

He walked over with a grim expression, knowing that Alice was likely terrified and liable to run soon. His arm was making it hard to concentrate, but he tried to hide it as he still didn't want his weakness known.

"The Headmaster was right," Harry said, his right arm absolutely searing with pain as he held Nott at wand point against the wall. "Malfoy can't kill anyone, and neither can you. You have to really mean it, Nott, and I don't think you do."

Harry let him go, and Nott teetered over like a bowling ball pin. With a quick flick of his wand, Harry slid Malfoy over beside Nott, and stared down at the two of them.

"I could break your nose," Harry said, watching the aggravation and trepidation in their eyes. "Stomp on your face, right here and now. But that'd be a bitch move, wouldn't it, Draco?"

Harry could feel the anger building again, and stepped back from them before he actually did it. The war was over, and though they'd tried to hurt him, he refused to stoop to that level. Instead, he held their wands up where they were visible in the streetlight, and snapped them in half.

Harry turned and grabbed Alice's hand before she could react, and apparated them to the stairs of his flat.

"Jesus fuck," Alice said, her hand gripping his as if she was about to fall off a cliff. "Where are we? What the bloody hell was that?"

Harry shook his head and pulled her upstairs, not even bothering hiding his spells. The door opened as soon as they got to the stairs and the fireplace sprung to life as they entered.

"Two ex-school mates," Harry said, walking over to his desk. He knew he'd have to explain to Alice, but needed to get a note written first. He hoped his message on the potion card was legible.

"Who really hate me," Harry said, turning back around. Alice was still at the door, staring wide eyed at Harry.

"Enough to fight you or whatever that was?" she asked. "What did I… what did I just see, Harry? Because I don't believe it."

She sounded a bit afraid, but Harry hoped she'd give him a chance to explain.

"And why the fuck are there owls staring at you?"

Harry glanced at the window and noticed two owls waiting for him. He sighed, and went to get his Evening Prophet delivery and whatever note had been sent. As he passed by his desk, he knocked on Fred's portrait.

"Sit down, and I'll tell you."

Harry figured she'd need either a cup of tea, or some firewhiskey, so he brought both out from the kitchen and sat down on the chair opposite from her. She was at least sitting on the couch, but was nervous and looking around as if there was a chance that anything from his flat might jump out at any moment and attack.

"It's regular tea," Harry said, nodding to the cup he'd put on the table. He gave her a second to sip it, and worked on gingerly removing his jumper. The cruciatus, as short as it had been, had turned his damaged nerves into hot searing pins and needles all up and down his arm. He needed to get all fabric off it, and needed to either dunk it in ice or do something to kill the feeling.

"What?" Fred said, finally appearing in his frame. "This was not the intended use of…who's that?"

"Alice," Harry said, keeping his eye on his arm as he pulled the sleeve down. Harry knew he was making a pained face, but didn't much care.

"Tell your dad he was right. Malfoy and Nott attacked. The aurors can pick them up near Borough Market."

"Shite," Fred said. "You all right?"

"Yeah, will be," Harry said, as Fred nodded and sprinted out of the frame.

Alice was staring, mouth open.

"You've wanted to know what I was for months," Harry said, wiping the blood off of his arm from where the skin had broken on his wrist scar. "And I told you. But you laughed it off, as I thought you would."

"You're a wizard," Alice said, and Harry couldn't tell if it was awe or fear in her voice.

Harry sat back in his chair, trying to flex his fingers to see if that would help at all. It made things exponentially worse, so he stopped immediately. His jumper was only partially off, but he needed to take a moment to breathe.

"We all are. Ron, Severus, me. Well, except for Hermione. She's a witch."

"A famous wizard who saved the world?" Alice quoted, her one eyebrow raised. Harry took the sarcasm as a good sign.

"Yes. We're sworn to secrecy, there's no way I could have told you. You may have noticed something was off over the past few years anyway. The terrible weather, the mysterious murders up and down the country. The Millennium bridge. It was all part of the war we just had."

"A war. So, you were a soldier. And how did I meet you, if it's all supposed to be secret?"

Harry leaned forward and finally got his jumper off in one go, grunting as he did so.

"I left. I went to the muggle world, to get away for a while and figure out who I was."

"The muggle world? What's the muggle world? And this is why you were afraid to come out? Because you're famous?" she sipped her tea again, and relaxed a little bit more into the couch.

"Non-magical people are called muggles," Harry explained. "And yes. As you just saw, the reaction hasn't all been positive."

A knocking sound came from the fireplace and the fire whooshed green, just before Snape stepped out of it.

"I presume I am not the first to break the statute in front of your muggle friend this evening," Snape said, looking down at his overcoat as he flicked ash off of it.

"Not exactly," Harry said, his voice sounding a bit rougher. "Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott found us in London."

Snape looked less than amused at that, and strangely did not comment on how obviously Alice was staring at him.

"Did you just come through the fucking fire?" she blurted, staring at him.

"It does seem that way," Snape said. He withdrew a small phial from his pocket as he walked toward Harry. "What was it?"

"Cruciatus," Harry said, wincing as he offered up his right arm. Snape took it carefully and inspected, running his finger slightly up the scars on Harry's forearm.

"How are you not burnt to a crisp? Where did you come from? The other side?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at the questions, and Harry answered instead.

"It's a network of fireplaces. We don't get burnt because of magic."

"So, I wouldn't either?" Alice said, still wary but also starting to get curious.

"I've never put a muggle through," Snape said, drawing his wand out and holding it over Harry's arm. "Should you like to try…"

"Severus," Harry said, shaking his head. It was partially out of admonishment, and partially because he wanted to pull his arm back, to keep it tight against his body and protect it from any movement. It felt like the cruciatus had undone any healing his arm had done over the year from when it was first cursed.

Instead of saying anything else, Snape held his wand over Harry's arm and started chanting a healing spell under his breath. Harry knew it wouldn't solve everything, as they'd tried it when they'd first landed in the bothy, but he found it interesting that Snape's spell wavered in how strong it was.

"What are you doing?" Alice asked, gripping her tea cup. Snape's back was to her, but she could see his wand and that Harry's arm was very red.

The knocking noise sounded again, and Alice whipped her gaze back to the fireplace.

"Harry, you all right?" Ron asked, landing almost gracefully in the fireplace grate. "Hermione's coming."

"Mostly," Harry said. Only he could see Snape roll his eyes.

"Alice… hi," Ron said, noticing her on the couch.

"She knows," Harry grunted, closing his eyes as Snape's wand passed over his wrist.

"She'd be an idiot not to notice," Ron said. "What happened?"

"They hit him with some magic," Alice said, when Harry didn't respond. "And he did some back, and left them sort of frozen. There was a lot of shit flying everywhere."

"Who's they? You mean on the muggle side?" Ron asked. Snape continued to chant, but his voice was low and melodious and didn't overpower the conversation.

"Malfoy and Nott knew I was back because of the article," Harry said. "I don't know how they knew I was there."

"Drink this," Snape said, holding up the phial to Harry's mouth. "Nott's family have house elves, of which I believe you're aware of their ability to find people unnoticed."

"Wonderful," Harry monotoned. "Betrayed by house elves." He pulled his arm back into his chest and Snape flicked his wand, using the same spell they'd used in the bothy the year before to keep their arms still.

"Dad's talking to Kingsley," Ron said, sitting on the couch next to Alice and watching Harry with concern. "Told me to leave the aurors to find them."

The front door opened quickly and Alice almost spilt her tea in surprise.

"Harry! Fred tol..Hi Alice."

"She knows, Hermione," Ron said, turning around to greet her.

"Oh, right," Hermione said. "How is he, Severus?"

Snape looked like he still wasn't sure how he felt about Hermione using his first name, and that he definitely did not appreciate being treated as Harry's nursemaid.

"Why don't you ask him?" Snape dryly asked.

"Because he downplays it," Hermione said, with a guilty smile.

"No, I don't," Harry argued. Snape put his hand on Harry's thigh, close to his knee, and squeezed it.

"I will return. There is more salve in my lab," Snape said, standing up straight and looking slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. He gave Harry a one-over, as if checking to see if Harry had neglected to mention any other injuries.

"Thanks," Harry said, looking up at Snape and keeping eye contact for a few seconds. Snape finally turned away and back to Harry's fireplace. He pinched the powder from Harry's little jar on the mantel, and disappeared into the green flames.

"Wait, but we left them there," Alice said, shaking her head. "And they were going to kill you. You left them near my flat, shouldn't someone go get them?"

"They what, mate?" Ron asked, glaring at Harry.

"It was Malfoy, Ron. They should be easy to find though, I doubt they got far."

"How so?" Alice asked, putting her now empty cup down. "Apparently you lot can travel through fireplaces, and whatever the fuck we did to get here."

"Yeah, but I snapped their wands," Harry said, with a grim smile. "It'll take them a bit to get back."

"Can't they just get new ones?" Alice asked.

"Not easily. I work for the only shop in our part of London that makes them."

"Harry, isn't that punishable by law?" Hermione asked.

"Nah," Ron said. "Nothing stopping someone from buying another. Kind of funny to think of Malfoy riding the roll thingy to get home though."

"The tube?" Harry asked, with a small smirk. He was feeling chilly and tried to see if he could drape the jumper over himself without aggravating his arm.

"Wait," Alice said. "…to the foolish boy who loves his sticks. I wrote that to you because you left those things all over Luke's flat. Were those wands?"

"Parts of them," Harry said, tucking the sleeve of the jumper over his shoulder.

A bright light grew larger in the window, a small ball of glowing white-blue as it approached the glass, capturing their attention. It pushed through the glass without breaking it and circled around the room, before forming into Kingsley's lynx patronus. Harry felt a split second of dread in his stomach, remembering the last patronus message they'd received from Kingsley.

"Detained. Stay in place, will discuss shortly."

"Wow," Alice said. "What is that?"

"It's a patronus," Hermione answered. "The exact type of animal depends on the caster."

"This one's from the Minister for Magic," Ron said, glancing at Harry and Hermione.

"What's that mean?" Alice asked, looking between them.

"It means you probably shouldn't be here when he gets here," Hermione gently said.

Alice nodded and stood up.

"The secrecy thing, right. Well, the glowing lynx said they were arrested right, so I can go home safely?"

"Yes," Harry quietly said. He didn't want to be the one to mention the memory charm, because he knew it had to happen and he felt like it was a betrayal of their friendship.

"You have a faster way for me to get home?"

"Alice," Harry started. He didn't know how to say it, and glanced at Ron and Hermione.

"There's a Statute of Secrecy that we have," Hermione said, looking up at Alice.

"Oh. And you need to wipe my memory," Alice finished. The silence that took over was heavy and harsh.

"Hermione's really good at it," Ron lamely offered.

"I'll never see you again?" Alice asked, looking between them. Harry knew why she was worried; she was a tough and gruff person who liked to pretend that she was always fine. But she didn't have a lot of actual friends.

"You will," Harry reassured her. "But you won't remember this. You won't remember the magic."

She nodded and then coughed to clear her throat.

"Is this why you broke it off with Luke?"

"It's why I never wanted anything serious with Luke," Harry clarified. "I also knew that there was still some danger, and that's not fair."

"Some danger," she scoffed. "Listen, I've been kissing lads in the street for years. And there's danger and violence to that. But this is on another level."

"Magic can be wonderful, and fun, and helpful," Harry said. "And I'd never give it up. But there's bad witches and wizards as well, and they can do magic too."

"Right," Alice said, and it sounded like she was attempting nonchalance. "And I'm glad you'll be okay, and that we'll still be friends. I'm sure I'll still think you're a weird wanker, so that's fine then."

"We'll still be your friends too," Ron said, smiling. "Can't miss board game night."

She gave him a half-hearted smile back, but didn't answer him.

"Alice…" Hermione finally said, holding her wand gingerly in her lap.

"Hermione," Alice interrupted. "I have enough shit in my life that I don't want to knowingly worry about someone attacking me for being near him. I can't think about that all the time. And I think – I suspect – that you live in a world where you can fix people like me. Without trying for surgery, or therapy, or hormone drugs. And I'll never have that. I don't… I can't remember any of it."

Harry would never know what it was like to be trans, but he'd heard her talk about her challenges, and what surgeries were available and how they'd never quite be enough. There was no point in correcting the assumptions, in telling her that Polyjuice wouldn't quite fix it either. Because she was right, and he knew from how much his Aunt had resented his mother that sometimes it was better to not remember that magic existed at all.

…

January 5th, 1998

The door opened quietly, as if Snape wasn't sure if Harry was awake or not. The muggle light in the kitchen was left on, and Snape, all in black and looking like the shadows he was standing in, appeared imposing and rather scary-looking in the door frame.

"Did he know?" Harry immediately asked. He'd been glancing out the bothy window for hours, failing to read even four pages of the book he'd picked up. The Dark Mark had burned hours ago, interrupting another argument about where the horcruxes would be found. They hadn't talked about it, talked about being stuck and injured for so long over the Christmas holidays. About how Snape had a very visible role in the war, and that he'd likely be noticed missing more so than Harry.

Snape raised his eyebrow and looked up at Harry, but said nothing. He removed his boots with a spell and went right to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Harry sprang out of bed, unsure of whether Snape was angry or injured, or just being Snape. He flipped the kettle on, figuring there was no harm if it wasn't wanted.

Snape emerged from the washroom a few minutes later and he was dressed down, his slacks changed to pyjama trousers, he'd changed into a t-shirt, and was barefoot.

"Well?" Harry said. He could see the Dark Mark clearly, a rich black that looked embedded deep into Snape's arm. The other arm was swollen, tree-branch scarring a fever red.

"No," Snape said, pouring some hot water in a mug to drink on its own. "It was not a gathering of new year's pleasantries and conversations."

"Right," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He tossed the book he was holding on to the coffee table and climbed back into bed. It was half twelve, and Harry didn't normally stay up that late.

"You were, however, a topic of conversation," Snape continued, finishing his water and putting the mug in the sink.

"Was I now," Harry said, shaking out his blankets to cover his feet. "What a surprise."

"He no longer believes that you are in hiding just to hide from him," Snape warned, carefully climbing onto his side of the bed. "But rather that you are tasked with something. And I will be returning to the school soon."

"Your arm isn't fully healed," Harry pointed out.

"I am well aware of that, Potter," Snape said, turning in the bed and facing the wall. He was clearly in a bad mood, but Harry didn't let up.

"So how are you going to hide it? If you get caught– "

"I am aware of the stakes!" Snape snapped. "This has been going on since you were in nappies."

"Yeah, it has," Harry snapped back. "And now it's coming to an end, which is the most dangerous time for both of us."

Snape grumbled, and Harry thought he heard a muttered "I fucking know that."

He was curled over onto his side, blanket pulled up on top of his shoulder, in a defensive position.

"It is too dangerous to stay here for much longer," Snape said. "We should have never gotten this close. This is a moment suspended in time, Potter, and it might backfire and undo all of Dumbledore's planning."

"Stop calling me Potter."

"An anomaly of circumstance. This shouldn't exist, and we need to go back to hatred for any chance of Dumbledore's plan working," Snape continued.

"Fuck hatred," Harry said.

"Yes of course, says the rash …"

"Shut up, Severus," Harry snapped. "This moment is happening, whether it's suspended in time, an anomaly, or a twist of fate. And I know you've been at this for longer than I can imagine, and that you're in danger every day. I know that. I don't know what turned you against him, but I suspect Dumbledore was involved and quite frankly he's shite at giving comfort when you really need it. So maybe this moment happened because it needed to."

Snape turned over and gave Harry an incredulous look.

"What sort of trashy romance novel drivel is that?" Snape said. "You think that we're stuck in this bothy together because after seventeen years of being a double agent some benevolent spirit decided that I need comfort from Harry fucking Potter?"

Harry flexed his fingers on his left hand, willing the urge to punch Snape to settle down.

"I think that maybe it is a moment of calm, before both of us face what is likely our final few months," Harry evenly said. "You've told me the plan for how my story ends, but I also know that you don't think you'll survive."

"My job will be done, Harry," Snape said, black eyes glittering in the moon's reflection through the window. "It matters not that I survive."

"It matters to me," Harry said, flopping down on his side of the bed. "Nox."