"I think it might be prudent to spend more time together during the holiday," Snape said, breaking the comfortable silence in his quarters.

Harry didn't look up from his homework. "You're probably right."

The silence resumed as Harry put the finishing touches on his essay, then he looked up as something occurred to him. "You aren't saying that just because I'm alone for Christmas, are you?"

Snape smirked over his grading. "In large part, yes, but not only so that I might lessen your loneliness. We have been seeing one another for nearly three months, and your staying at Hogwarts might be construed as a desire to be with me. I know it isn't, and you know it isn't, but our watchers will be suspicious. Even those who understand why you're remaining would be suspicious if we didn't spend time together, given the opportunity."

"Okay, but what about the rules? And what happens if Dumbledore strings up mistletoe again?" Harry asked, packing away his finished essay and pulling out his Charms book to start the next.

Snape's brow furrowed. "The rules still apply to holidays, and I believe we can escape with a peck to the cheek, if you can handle that much. Which brings up an interesting point I've been avoiding until now."

Harry blushed. "What did I do?"

Snape looked up at him with a concerned frown. "You flinch every time I touch you." He said. Harry looked away, refusing to reply. "I've noticed… it isn't only me. You flinch when even your closest friends touch you, especially when you aren't expecting it. When you have sufficient time to prepare for the contact, you're fine, but if your friend surprises you, you draw away. With me, you do it every time, though."

"Don't ask me why," Harry pleaded, still refusing to meet the Potions Master's eye. "I don't know the answer. I've never known the answer. Before Hogwarts, it was conditioning. Now, though… I don't know. I just can't help that instance of fear that this time it'll hurt, this time it'll break me, like I'm cracked glass."

The Gryffindor started violently when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to find the Potions Master had somehow moved to sit beside him on the couch without a sound. The concern on Snape's face made his chest hurt, and he wished he could stop it. He wished he could stop making the people around him look like that, because beneath the concern was hurt, the belief that he didn't trust them, and he did. He just couldn't convince himself of that. Because it wasn't just fear that they would hurt him, but a fear that he might hurt them. He'd known since he was very young that there was a dark cruel streak in him, and try as he might, he knew it wasn't there because of the Horcrux, he knew that that angry, conniving, destructive beast was him, a part of him that would never die, a monster in his heart that was born of the cruelties he'd faced. He was terrified every day that that monster would win, and even the smallest kindness made him wonder how many he would hurt when it did.

"Potter," Snape murmured gently, his grip on the Gryffindor's shoulder firm and grounding. "I would never hurt you."

Harry felt tears begin to gather and grow, and tried to blink them away, succeeding only in having them slip down his cheeks. "I wish I could believe that… but I hurt the people around me all the time. How can I trust they won't do the same?"

Snape sighed. "Mister Potter, you are not the first to believe there's a monster inside of you, and you will not be the last. Everyone has their own personal demon that they must wrestle in their lifetime."

"Except I actually do have a monster inside of me," Harry pointed out. "Even if I don't hurt you… My cowardice regarding the Horcrux I carry is hurting people every day."

"It is not cowardice to be afraid of death," Snape said sternly. His voice softened. "Nor is it cowardice to be afraid of me."

Harry frowned. "I'm not afraid of you… I just… I'm terrified of affection in general. There's always a caveat to it. Ron uses it like a free pass, his affection means popularity by association, and withholds it when he doesn't get what he wants. Hermione uses it to make herself feel superior. They don't even realize they do it."

"And what do I use affection for?"

"I don't know," Harry breathed. "And that scares me even more. Because as far as I can tell, your only cause to show affection is to sell the lie. Except sometimes you're affectionate away from the watchers, like now, and I've not the slightest idea why. I keep waiting for you to demand something in return, and I can think of nothing you might want from me, except that we've nearly kissed a couple of times. I can't help but wonder if that isn't your caveat. I know it's not; I know this is all pretend, but I'm still afraid that that's what you want from me."

"Because I'm gay?" Snape asked, clearly insulted.

Harry shook his head. "Because I'd be humiliated," He answered honestly. "I want to trust you, I want to believe that you aren't that person anymore, but you have no idea how hard it is for me to trust anyone. The only time I've ever kissed or been kissed was my one date with Cho, and she was crying over Cedric when it happened. I felt humiliated, even though no one really saw us. I wasn't good enough for her. I'm not good enough for anyone. And if you kissed me, especially where others would see, I'd be just as humiliated, because I'm 17 years old and I've never really been kissed. You would laugh. Or, worse, you would pity me. And even if you didn't, I would feel like you were, because I feel pitiful."

"Whilst I wouldn't normally encourage this, I would suggest that you experiment," Snape told him gently. "Find someone you trust, someone you really believe won't laugh at you. Or, perhaps, someone you trust who you do believe will laugh at you. Then share a kiss. Long, short, any kiss will do. And when things go back to normal, when you and whomever you choose are unchanged, then perhaps you can begin to heal, and even begin to trust."

"Would you do it?" Harry asked without thinking. He bit his lip but realized he didn't want to take the question back. There was no one else he felt he could trust with such a thing, no one besides the man who'd proven time and again that even when things did change, they changed for the better. "I know I'm gawky, and awkward, and not very attractive, but… would you?"

Snape frowned. "You are aware that I'm not female, correct?"

Harry chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I know that. The thing is, that doesn't really bother me. I'm not straight, and I'm not gay. I'd call myself bisexual, except that sex has never had anything to do with it. I don't… I don't react to stuff like the guys in my dorm, or at least I haven't before. Fear of intimacy is fear of all intimacy."

"If you're sure," Snape said hesitantly.

Harry made himself nod as he swallowed thickly. "I think I am," He murmured. "Just… promise me that nothing will change."

"I cannot make that promise," Snape answered honestly. "Things are constantly changing. A year ago, you would never have asked this of me. And a year ago, I would never have said yes. I cannot promise that another year will not see more change, nor even another month, another day, or another hour. What I can promise is that I will not stop being your friend, I will not stop pretending to date you to keep us both safe, and I will not stop doing everything I can to ensure you survive this war."

Harry nodded in acceptance. "That'll do."

Snape gave a firm nod, and began leaning towards him slowly. "Relax," He instructed gently.

Harry nodded, but the closer they got, the more his body tensed up. Snape's hand on his shoulder slid up to the side of his neck, and Harry shivered. But it wasn't a flinch, and that was something wholly unexpected. He realized he wasn't scared. He was tense, and his heart was beating a tattoo in his chest so hard and fast he thought he might faint, but he wasn't scared. He was filled with anticipation as he turned slightly on the couch to face the man, even leaning forward slightly. His first real kiss. Harry wondered how far it would go. Snape had said any kiss would do, so he would most likely keep it short and to the point, but that didn't matter, because he was finally going to be kissed properly. And, for whatever reason, Harry suddenly didn't think the Potions Master would laugh when he bombed the experiment.

Snape paused inches from him and hesitated. His black eyes darted side to side, looking into Harry's emeralds for something only he could see. "You're sure?"

Harry realized he was trembling uncontrollably. "Please."

At first, the kiss was light, hesitant. His lips brushed Harry's lightly, causing the younger wizard to draw a sharp breath. As he made to draw away, however, Harry followed the retreating mouth. Snape pressed forward again and drew Harry to him with the hand on his neck. Before Harry's eyes slipped shut, he saw the man's stormy brow furrow, and then their lips met, and Harry realized what passion was. His fluttering heart leapt into his throat, and his hands flexed convulsively in his lap as Snape consumed his mouth fervently. Harry pressed back and, following the Potions Master's lead, he joined the kiss. When Snape's lips parted against his and suckled his upper lip, and then his lower, Harry's lips parted and did the same. Snape breathed deeply through his nose, pulling Harry closer. Harry found his hands, trembling though they may be, were capable of moving on their own as they reached up and burrowed into the thick teaching robes Snape wore. A small sound escaped him when Snape's other hand touched his side. He felt the Potions Master shift on the couch, and their legs touched. Another sound, this time not quite as small, escaped the Gryffindor when a gently probing tongue swiped at his lips teasingly. He pressed nearer to the Potions Master, opening his mouth to him, drawing the man to him. He started leaning back, pulling his faux boyfriend down on top of him. Snape followed with only a moment's hesitation, drawing both their legs up onto the couch with a hand on Harry's thigh. Harry realized belatedly what he was doing, what he was forcing from the other man.

He pulled away, standing up and forcing back angry, self-loathing tears. He'd reacted like a teenager. Snape had offered to help him, and his stupid body had immediately tried to take advantage. He felt like an idiot. His body didn't seem to realize that it was just a brief experiment, and that the stimulus was going nowhere. He looked away, ashamed of himself, and his body's reaction. Snape was his friend, and yeah, he was a good kisser, but Harry felt he had no right for his body to react the way it had, that he had no right to not only ask for more, but to insist upon it by dragging the man down on top of him. He'd just explained about how his friends' affection always came with a caveat, and when he himself was tested he had wanted his own. It wasn't fair, and he felt like a jackass for pushing the man as far as he had.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't… I never meant to… I'm sorry."

Harry began tossing his school things into his bag haphazardly. He only stopped when a hand touched his shoulder. But he didn't flinch. That part was gone now.

"What you're feeling right now is completely natural, Mister Potter," Snape said gently, turning him around to face him. "Our bodies react even when we do not want them to."

Harry blushed, suddenly feeling beyond humiliated. And then Snape did something Harry didn't expect. He hugged him. He held Harry's head against his chest and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and merely held him. Harry listened with awe as the man's chest leapt against his ear. Snape's heart was pounding so hard and so fast that Harry could not only hear the uncontrollable thumping, but he could actually feel the man's chest move with each beat. He blushed again, realizing that it wasn't only his body that had reacted. It was normal. No one could help how their body reacted to something. Just like the flinching. He looked up and smiled into Snape's clear black gaze, chuckling lightly at the raised brow.

"Thank you."

Snape drew back, his hand sliding down Harry's arm to grip his fingers. He held Harry's hand aloft as he dipped into a gentleman's bow.

"I live to serve, Mister Potter," He said, smirking.

Harry laughed again.

"Now, I think, perhaps, you should turn your attention to your Charms essay," Snape suggested. "Whilst I order us some much-needed sustenance." He eyed Harry carefully. "You may be able to fool your friends, but I've seen how little you've been eating."

Harry blushed darkly as he rubbed the hair at the back of his head. "It's hard to feel hungry when your every move is being devoured and analyzed by everyone around you."

Snape kissed the knuckles still held in his grasp and straightened. "Then perhaps I should spend my holiday ensuring you eat more than the sweets you keep up in your dorm."

"Is there anything you don't know?" Harry asked seriously.

The Potions Master shrugged, winking. "You might be surprised. I shall return shortly." Harry knew his confusion showed and Snape smirked. "Any food ordered from staff rooms has to be submitted in writing via a journal. I keep mine in my bedroom."

Harry felt his blush heat up his cheeks again as the man disappeared into that very room. He didn't even know why he was blushing. He'd been in there before, and there was nothing particularly mysterious about the room, but his brief stint was tainted by the reminder that, the only time he'd been in there, he'd had to undress the man. Magically, true, and for medical reasons only, but that did not stop his body reacting now to the memory. The Gryffindor forced himself to sit back down and pull his things out once more. He pretended not to notice that his hands were still trembling, and by the time Snape returned, they had blessedly stopped.