2. Bully for you

"What's the progress with Snape, Hermione?"

The following Monday, Harry stood in the doorway to her office carrying a thick folder that she knew to contain sheet upon sheet of data on spells and curses cast by traced wands. Of all the cases they had been working on in the four years since Harry's promotion, this had been the most frustrating, and she could tell from the redness of the faint scar on his forehead and by the way his spiky black hair had been set on end that he was stressed.

"He won't consent willingly." She threw her ballpoint pen down and stretched. "He's afraid, of course. And I don't blame him one bit. If you want him to pledge his loyalty to you I find it a bit unfair to refuse him information on why you want his help, especially considering his history."

Harry twirled the Elder Wand between his fingers looking contrite and annoyed all at once. "I know, Hermione," he said, a slight frown on his face. "We've exhausted this discussion before, don't you think? I need Snape. One of the Malfoys won't do. I simply don't trust them not to find a loophole, especially Lucius. Besides, Draco is a father now. He has responsibilities. Snape is the logical choice."

He was right, the discussion was old, and they had thoroughly turned over every available option. She knew in her heart that Harry acted reasonably but it still felt wrong for her to pressure Severus in this way. Hermione huffed a breath. "I know, Harry. I've come to like him, is all. I just wish he could have some peace and quiet."

"So do I. Truly." Harry's voice was calmer now, sombre. He entered her office fully and transfigured a seat for himself with a silent flick and swish, the sleek steel and leather stool a reflection of his solemn mood.

"Does he still live on Spinner's End?"

She thought about it for a minute, picking up her ballpoint again to chew on its end. "I don't know actually."

She'd never visited Severus at home. Their meetings had always come about by her showing up at the bookstore, and his living arrangement had never been a topic of conversation. "It ought to be on record somewhere. I know he needs to report at the ministry every second month as a part of his early release terms."

Harry shifted. "Yeah, well. As I ought to know."

"Do you have any idea how to persuade him, Harry?"

Worrying his forehead, Harry got up to pace her office. The stool vanished without prompt. "The man lived a double life for twenty years out of guilt for my mother. Though he doesn't particularly like me, I think it should be possible to appeal to his good side, especially now that he trusts you."

He tapped his fingers on her doorframe, seemingly decided. "We'll pay him a visit this evening. The both of us. Go to the Auror Office and dig up his address. I'll arrange a portkey from the atrium. Don't tell anyone where we're going."

With that, he left. Hermione once again threw down the pen, discarding paper shuffling as a bad job for the rest of the day. She needed practical work to help her ignore the queasy feeling in her stomach.

Later that day, they landed on a cracked and holey pavement facing a row of small identically derelict brown brick houses. The street was littered with dead leaves and garbage, and the chilly wind made eerie rustling noises as it disturbed old pieces of paper and dirty plastic bags. It was quite depressing.

"Isn't it odd that he wold still live here," said Harry, his thoughts apparently mirroring her own, "I know his memories of the place are not exactly the fondest."

Hermione looked around, thinking of the poor, odd, lonely boy that had been Severus Snape. A distance off to the left, there was a tall, ominous chimney overlooking the neighbourhood. She shook herself, pocketing the broken quill that had been their portkey, and they started in unison towards the second house on their right, black Ministry cloaks flapping and blending into the twilight.

"I suppose he hasn't had the time or money."

The front yard of 32 Spinner's End was covered in weeds, none of them magical. The windowpane in the wooden door was cracked, and there was no sign nor doorbell. Harry knocked on the window with his knuckles, casting her a reassuring look.

After a while the door opened abruptly, revealing Severus' tall, dark form. Slightly bemused, she noted that he was standing and frowning down at Harry in a way that reminded her of times long gone, when he had been their teacher in school.

She resisted the urge to tease him about it, the situation at hand being far too serious for such frivolities. She made a small smile instead, hoping to convey to him that she would take his side, not Harry's in the discussion that was bound to follow.

Harry, now a wizard in his prime, had not been intimidated by theatrics for many, many years. Prompted by the memory of his least favourite teacher, he confidently moved forward, backing Severus into the dimly lit hallway.

"Snape." He said, not breaking stride, "I'm sure you know why I'm here."

"Potter." Said Severus. His voice and eyes were cold and hard.

They followed the narrow hall straight into a small living room filled with bookshelves. The place was careworn and slightly dusty but there was a cosy fire in the small fireplace, which was obviously muggle. Either he preferred the privacy of not having a floo, or he did not expect to get visitors. Next to an armchair that sported the imprint of Severus' body, Hermione spotted an open wine bottle atop a low table, together with an open book and his reading glasses. She winced. The nature of their visit, along with Harry's headfirst demeanour must quite brutally have ruined a peaceful evening.

The urge to explore his bookshelves was strong but that would have been rude with Harry there. She also doubted she would get the opportunity.

"Drink, Snape?"

Harry had settled in one of the kitchen chairs uninvited, and had conjured a bottle of firewhiskey and three tumblers. Severus was again shooting him daggers, having frozen in place just inside of the hallway. Not minding the hard stare nor lack of answer, the self-invited guest levitated a tumbler towards their host, calling forth his powerful magic without a word nor a wand. Severus' expression turned from angry to wary in an instant, both of his eyes widening in astonishment. He cautiously accepted the drink, gaze never leaving Harry's hands. Hermione declined.

"So, how are things in the bookstore business? I must admit I was surprised that you didn't open an apothecary."

Harry's voice was calm, with a hint of curiosity. Apparently, he had realised that his direct approach was a bit too much. Hermione exhaled in mild relief.

Severus cleared his voice. "I'm hardly up to date on potion research these days," he said slowly, addressing Hermione instead of Harry. "There are many talented potioneers on the market, most of them with a better reputation than mine."

Hermione smiled. "I think it's brilliant, Severus. Imagine having a comprehensive library of all the known recipes. It's only a shame that you have to make money by selling them."

Severus snorted. "There's the small case of bread and butter."

Harry jumped at the opening, eagerly. "Speaking of. My Hermione has informed you that I would like to offer you another job, has she not?"

The frown was back in an instant. "Yes."

"I regret not being able to tell you more about it but the nature of our mission is such that it has to be kept secret for multiple reasons. Everyone involved has taken an oath of silence but for what I need you to do, it will be necessary to vow your servitude."

"Potter," said Severus, not unkindly, "I don't know what Hermione has told you about me," his eyes flicked towards her, "but I sincerely doubt that I can be of any assistance to you. You will recall that I have been without my wand and my magic for twelve years. Out of practice doesn't even begin to explain it."

Harry got up, gaining momentum. "What I need you for does not involve magic. Not yours in any case. And I will make my own vow to you that your services will only be used to promote what's good for both the muggle and the wizarding world."

Severus sighed loudly through his nose. "I don't doubt you, you imbecilic twit. You are all a gang of inveterate do-gooders." He held out his empty glass towards Harry, who, though seemingly annoyed, indulged him with a healthy measure.

"If that is the case, why won't you help us, Snape? Frankly, you disappoint me."

Something flashed in Severus' eyes, reminding her of his impotent rage when they had rescued Sirius Black behind his back. He downed half his drink in one.

"In what way, exactly, do I disappoint the great and mighty chosen one?" The knuckles on the hand that held his glass were turning white.

Personally, she had grown accustomed to his dry, sometimes discourteous sense of humour, but Harry had never appreciated Severus' sarcasm. Probably because he had spent too much time on the brunt end of it during his formative years. She had to intervene.

"Harry," she said sensibly, "perhaps we ought to give Severus a bit more time to think about this-"

"I do not need to think," interrupted Severus angrily, "I need him," he pointed rudely at Harry "To explain this to me!"

Harry stepped forward. "Don't yell at Hermione." He jabbed a finger into Severus' chest. "I'll explain to you what you should think about, Snape. If you refuse to do this for me, you should think about what Dumbledore would have wanted. What my mother would have wanted."

Severus face took on the same grey hue as the tattered lace curtains in the kitchen. "You think by whipping me with guilt you can bend me to your will? Guilt, Potter, and gaudy displays of power? Even Dumbledore wasn't that crude."

Ugh. Hermione briefly closed her eyes. What was with these two, that made them into bickering old hens each and every time they came within shouting distance? Harry was bound to take major offense. He never stood by if anyone dared insult Dumbledore. She moved towards the door, hoping he would merely storm off in anger but alas, his body had gone deathly still.

"You ought not to speak ill of the dead, Snape." They were squaring off against each other, Severus' greasy black head now only slightly taller than Harrys' messy one. "Though he led your hand, you did the deed. I know what it takes to cast the killing curse."

Severus looked absolutely slapped but only for an instant. He next bared his crooked, yellow teeth in a contemptuous grimace. "I will tell you whether or not I agree," he began evenly, grasping Harry's elbow to shove him towards the hallway, "after you tell me What. You. Want."

Harry wrenched free from his grasp, whirling about. "Get off me! You bullied me as a child, Snape. But that was a long time ago, and I'll be damned if I let you manhandle me again."

Severus snorted in mock amusement. "Who is the bully here? You come into my home and try to push me to do your bidding, not deigning to inform me what service it is you require. Once again, your arrogance is astounding, Potter. You are nothing but a conceited blustering fool trying to fill the shoes of a manipulating bastard. Get the hell out of my home."

Severus tried again to push Harry towards the door but this time, Harry was too quick for him. Taking hold of the front of Severus' coat, he pushed the older man against the book-clad wall, quite effectively pinning him in place. The tumbler, along with a few books fell to the carpet with a dull thud and Hermione froze, her eyes wide. Everything except the two men's heavy breathing was quiet as they silently assessed each other, Severus grasping the hands that held him in place. Severus was the taller of the two, and broader. Harry though, was quicker, and very athletic. A moment passed.

"It's Captain Potter to you, Snape." Harry's face was red, Severus' unhealthily white. Thankfully, Severus remained still, aware that Harry had the upper hand.

"I can see why my mother chose to break ties with you." Said Harry. "The lack of moral fibre is disgusting." He let go of the buttoned frock coat as if he had been holding onto something repulsive and turned on his heel. Severus did not move, and she caught a look of weary resignation in his eyes. It made her heart bleed but she could not help but feel relieved that they had not drawn wands.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice was faint through the open door.

She sent Severus an apologetic look before hurrying after her colleague, resolving to return later in the evening, just to make sure he didn't do anything foolish. She was after all, as far as she knew, his only friend.