Snape awoke well before dawn with Harry practically curled up on top of him like a cat. At least that explained why he was so stiff this morning. He couldn't complain though. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up with someone else in his bed. It was surprisingly...cozy.
"It's a good thing I'll be dying today or I'd have to kill myself," he muttered quietly, causing Harry to shift a bit in his sleep.
Snape laid a hand on his back and Harry sighed and became still once more. If only he were that easy to control when awake.
It came to him there in the pre-dawn light, what he needed to do. Snape had planned to go down fighting by Harry's side, but he knew now that it would be hopeless. With his former associates attempting to kill him, and Voldemort attempting to kill Harry, they would be outnumbered, and Harry wouldn't stand a chance. Snape couldn't take the chance that Harry would be killed in the crossfire.
He stared at the darkened ceiling, the black turning to grey as the sun began to rise.
Snape had promised Harry that he would be there, and that he would do everything in his power to protect him. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to sacrifice himself to do so. Not because it was noble, or just, or any other sanctimonious term, but because it was their best chance at survival.
He couldn't tell Harry his plan or it would never work, or even worse, the Dark Lord would read the boy like an open book. Snape was going to have to take the risk and hope that Harry could do what needed to be done when the time came.
Whatever the outcome, Harry was going to be angry with him, but if all went well, at least the boy would be alive.
That was the whole point, wasn't it? Dumbledore's ultimate goal. Kill Voldemort and ensure that the Boy Who Lived became the Man That Survived.
Snape continued staring at the ceiling, his mind going over the small details while Harry slept.
It was an hour later that Harry began to stir again. Snape tensed his hand pausing on Harry's back mid-stroke as sleepy green eyes met his.
"Wha' happened?" Harry slurred tiredly, making no effort to move from his spot practically on top of Snape.
Snape met his eyes and held back a grin. "The war is over, Longbottom is a potions master, and your breath doesn't smell like something died in your mouth."
"You're awfully cheerful this morning," Harry muttered thickly, rolling off Snape before sitting up. "And you're one to talk about morning breath. It smells like you ate compost."
Snape ignored him, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He stretched, trying to restore the blood flow to his joints.
Harry didn't say anything but stood up and went towards the bedroom door. He paused at the door and turned around, biting his bottom lip.
"Severus…" Stars that still felt awkward, but it was an attention grabber. He saw Snape's eyes shoot over to him. "Thank you for letting me stay."
Snape nodded and turned away, knowing that if they actually talked about it, things would become awkward. He went about straightening up the bed until he heard the bedroom door close behind him.
Harry glanced back at the closed door before heading towards his own room. He fell upon his bed with a heartfelt sigh. He wasn't really tired; he just didn't want to be awake. He didn't want to face the day. He curled into a ball on the bed, facing the window. Sunlight streamed in making it impossible to do anything but think, but he refused to do so. Thinking only led to disaster and he couldn't afford more than one that day.
Once Snape was dressed and ready for the day, he left his room and went to the kitchen to put on tea. Not seeing Harry, nor hearing any movements, he went to Harry's room and pounded on the door. "Stop stewing and get up!" he called, grinning when something hit the door with a thud.
"Go away! I enjoy stewing."
"You annoy me when you stew," Snape yelled back. "Now get your arse out of bed!"
"What's the point?"
Rolling his eyes, Snape opened the door and stepped inside, scowling at Harry who was face down on the bed with his face buried in his arms. "The point, Mr. Potter, is that you need to eat something," Snape replied, picking the pillow up off the floor and tossing it onto the bed.
The pillow landed on Harry's back. He turned his head so he could see Snape. "Not hungry."
Snape shrugged. "That does not matter in this case. You're going to eat," he replied, trying to act as though this was a typical morning, and not the worst morning of Harry's life.
"Bugger off, Snape," he grumbled, burying his face back in his pillow breathing heavily.
Snape considered his options. He could have a brooding, upset Harry on his hands, or an angry Potter.
He chose angry.
"Just because you have a difficult task of ahead of you is no reason to sulk like a child," he said, masking his concern with irritation. "You will get up, you will eat, and we will discuss what is to be done. You have two minutes, Potter!" he finished, turning on his heel and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.
Harry winced and then relaxed. Smashing, simply smashing! Snape was angry at him now. He sat up and rubbed his forehead tiredly. Snape was right though; they did have things to discuss. Hiding in his room wouldn't delay what was about to happen. It wouldn't slow down the inevitable. He'd probably just end up working himself up so badly he got sick.
He stood up and exited the bedroom making his way towards the kitchen before sitting down hard in his chair. He barely noticed when Snape shoved a cup of tea into his clenched hands.
"Just try some toast, it will help settle your stomach," Snape said, sliding a plate of toast towards Harry. "Then we'll work on the eggs," he added, smirking.
Harry attempted to give a wan smile as he picked up a piece of toast and bit into the corner of it listlessly.
"Would you like me to dip it in tea and spoon feed it to you?" Snape asked with an innocent smile.
"Stuff it, Snape," Harry said with a tiny but genuine smile as he took a sip of the now tepid tea.
Snape nodded in satisfaction. "An insult followed by a smile. Now I know you're feeling better," he said, moving to the stove. He grabbed the handle of the pan and walked to the table, sliding some eggs on to Harry's plate, and some on his own, before returning the pan to the stovetop.
Harry poked at his food with his fork, pushing it around the plate. With his other hand, he was tapping the table, and Snape could see his leg bouncing up and down under the table.
Taking his free hand, he reached across the table and placed his hand over the hand Harry was tapping with. Harry looked up at him, surprised, but Snape remained focused on his eggs, seemingly ignoring the fact that he was holding Harry's hand.
Harry stared at Snape for a few moments before taking the subtle hint and continuing eating. He turned his hand over and laced their fingers without once looking up from his plate of bland food. He couldn't recall the last time someone had gone out of his or her way to make sure he ate food. Hermione had certainly tried, but she neither had the will nor the power to force him to chew it.
Once Harry had finished his eggs, Snape released his hand and nodded in satisfaction. "We need to discuss what is going to happen later," he said, willing to broach the subject now that the boy had food in him. By the time they were done, he probably wouldn't eat a thing for the rest of the day.
Harry's fork clunked dully onto his plate as he glanced up at Snape from beneath his black fringe.
"You mean we might actually have a plan going into this?" he asked aiming at humor.
Snape smirked. "I'm fairly certain that whatever plan we have in place will go pear-shaped anyway, but one should always have a plan on the odd chance it actually works."
"And it won't work if you don't tell me," Harry pointed out, draining the rest of his tea.
"You still have your cloak, correct?" Snape asked.
"Yes, it's in my bag in my room," Harry answered uncertainly.
"I'm going to need it," Snape said, sipping his tea calmly.
"What for?" Harry asked suspiciously. Snape was being far too calm for his liking and he was itching to shake him.
"Because I will be going ahead of you and I think it would behoove me to have some added insurance so I am not seen," Snape replied. "I will be of little use to you dead."
"You'll be of little use to me if you go and get caught, even with the cloak," Harry pointed out feeling uneasy about the entire idea. What the hell did he mean "insurance"? Insurance from what? What was Snape thinking of doing?
"I have no intention of getting caught, Potter," Snape replied archly. "I have not spent half of my life as a spy, only to be discovered at the most inopportune time imaginable."
"Good for you and your intentions," Harry grumbled, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he pushed his chair out then pulled it back in.
Snape scowled. "Potter, I promised you that I would do whatever it took to ensure your survival tonight and I plan to do exactly that. The only reason I will not go into specifics with you is because we cannot be sure that the Dark Lord will not try and glean our plans from your mind," Snape said patiently.
His dark eyes locked with Harry's. "I need you to trust me."
Harry stared at Snape for a long moment, before lowering his eyes to the tabletop. "All right, but just so you know I'm still unhappy."
"I'd be worried if you found this enjoyable," Snape replied dryly. "I know the Dark Lord very well, and I plan to use his own arrogance against him. I'm sure you have noticed his habit of making speeches instead of immediately doing whatever needs doing," Snape said, watching Harry carefully.
Harry snorted. "You mean the ones where he rubs it in that power will triumph over good and that you shall die now and then he'll talk to his Death Eaters about how grand he is for finally capturing you and then he'll proceed to mock you for being weak?"
Snape arched a brow and said nothing.
Harry smiled innocently. He could pretend, just for a little while, that today was going to be like all the others. "Yes, I know of them."
"Then you also know that while he is pontificating on his masterful grand plan," Snape said, smirking, "it will be the perfect opportunity for me get in the optimal position to help you when the time comes."
"Ah, so your plan is to get me captured and force me to listen to the snake-faced bastard while you bide your time."
"If you get captured, then this will all be for nothing anyway," Snape replied. "His intention is to kill you, which means he will play with you first, like a cat with a mouse. It would help if you kept him talking without provoking him to kill you right away, and we both know you're capable of angering anyone to kill you," Snape said, grinning.
"Stuff it, Snape," Harry mumbled good-naturedly. "If you had wanted to off me so badly you could have done so with a potion years ago."
"What makes you think I didn't try?" Snape asked, his brow arched in question.
"Because you're a master, not a student, and if you had wanted to slip me some without anyone noticing you could have."
"You're brighter than you look," Snape said, something resembling a smile softening his features.
Harry looked up at Snape and froze in surprise. He was smiling, affectionately, at him. Had he just complimented him? "I think you just complimented me," Harry said shrewdly. "Did you mean to?"
"You should know by now, Harry, that I mean what I say," Snape said. "Most of the time anyway," he added, smirking.
"And you called me Harry. Well, two can play at that game, Severus." Harry folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "So, what do you mean 'most of the time'?"
Snape imitated Harry, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "It means that the rest of the time, I'm lying through my teeth."
"Ah I see, so I should never take you at face value again. Excellent." Harry grinned.
"You would be a fool to do so," Snape replied, smirking.
Harry's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he tapped his chin. "So, what exactly have you been lying about?"
Snape thought for a moment. "Ask me that same question tomorrow," he said, his face growing serious once again.
"We might not be sitting here tomorrow," Harry said just as seriously.
"I have every intention of being here tomorrow, as will you," Snape said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, sir," Harry answered, his eyes wide. Damn, Harry thought eyeing Snape across the table. With an attitude like that Snape might just make it through the ruddy battle with all his sanityand life intact.
Snape nodded. "That having been said, I expect you to do your part to ensure that happens. You've got to remember what you've been taught. Keep moving, focus, and do not let the Death Eaters distract you. Above all, follow your instincts," he said. "They've managed to keep you alive this long."
"I thought it was only luck that had saved me so far."
"It certainly doesn't hurt to have some," Snape replied sarcastically.
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned forward against the table. "So that's it then? I just keep him talking and pray that whatever has been keeping me alive this long continues to hold out?"
Again, Snape mirrored Harry, and leaned forward against the table. "I would hope that at some point you manage to kill the man."
"Well, yes, that's the whole bloody point isn't it?" Harry grumbled. "I get to kill some bloke who's fifty years older than me who kicks puppies and decapitates dandelions for fun. It's a really clever plan. Brilliant in fact. Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic."
"Decapitates dandelions?" Snape asked, his lip curling into a smile before breaking out into genuine laughter.
Harry scowled darkly at Snape but it didn't last. It quickly morphed into a smile. "Well, he'd be the type," he mumbled with a chuckle.
Snape only laughed louder. "Of all the hideous things he's done," he said, gasping for air, "You're worried about the poor dandelions?" he asked, attempting to gain control of himself, but failing miserably.
"Shut it! I was trying to prove a point and you ruined it." Harry frowned, or tried to frown through his own laughter.
Snape lay his head down on the table, unable to look at Harry without laughing. It felt so odd. It had been more years than he cared to count since he had genuinely laughed this hard. The muscles in his face hurt. It struck him then, that this was more than likely the last day of his life, and he was laughing.
Snape raised his head and looked at Harry. "Thank you," he said, smiling.
"For what?" Harry asked with a confused smile.
"It doesn't matter," Snape replied, his eyes softening as he looked at Harry. He stared at him, taking in his features, his unruly hair and his green eyes, shining with curiosity.
Harry tilted his head to the side with a bemused expression. He adjusted his glasses that were slipping down the end of his nose, before smiling lopsidedly at Snape. He searched Snape's face curiously noting the almost affectionate look in his eyes. It startled Harry and his bemused expression became confused and thoughtful. Snape was staring at him with something other than amusement or anger. Why? What had he done to elicit that reaction? Was it just because of what was going to happen tonight?
His stomach contracted at the thought. No, he had told himself he was going to pretend. It was still early morning, and he still had plenty of time to pretend.
As if reading his expression, Snape softly said, "Whatever it takes, you will come out of this alive, Mister Potter. Whatever it takes."
Harry gave him a wan smile. "But..." he trailed off with a sigh. What a stupid thing to ask, he couldn't ask that. He wouldn't ask that… Snape would bite his head off.
"I miss my friends," he murmured, switching topics before the other one could even get off the ground.
Snape frowned, momentarily caught off guard. "You'll see them tomorrow," he said, realization hitting him all at once. If they did both survive, which was highly unlikely, but if they did Harry would go back to his life and he would go back to...what?
"No, not in that way. I miss knowing they were somewhere behind me fighting with me and the knowledge that if one of us fails we all fail. I just...you, I just can't...I..."
"I see," Snape replied, words failing him. So that's what it came down to. Harry wanted his friends, the people he trusted there with him at the end. Snape pushed back his chair, getting to his feet.
"I have some things to take care of," he said stiffly. "I'll be in my study," he said, walking from the room before Harry could speak.
Harry watched him go tearfully before smacking his head against the tabletop with a heartfelt groan. One day he'd become articulate and not piss people off unintentionally. He pushed his chair away from the table and trudged down through the kitchen and living room to the furthest room in the small house. The door was locked and he could just about feel the locking charms that held the door shut tight.
He squared his shoulders and knocked on the door, prepared for perhaps the hardest explanation he'd have to give in a long time.
Snape was staring blankly at the parchment in front of him, the quill clenched tightly in his fingers. There were preparations to make in the event they both failed tonight. The Order would need to be notified, and arrangements made. There were still the remaining Horcruxes to be dealt with, not to mention Voldemort himself.
But he couldn't seem to write, his mind was completely blank.
The knock on the door shook him from his stupor. There was only one person it could be, and he didn't want to see him right now.
"Please, open the door," Harry begged quietly, knowing that Snape would still hear the plea through the door.
Snape closed his eyes and sighed. Like flipping a switch, he schooled his features and pushed down any and all emotion before waving his wand at the door, releasing the locking spells. "Come in," he shouted, then proceeded to write, bending his head so his hair obscured his face.
Harry gently turned the handle of the door and entered the room. He had seen Snape bent in that hunched-over position more times than he cared to recall and each time he'd stood in front of Snape's desk like this it meant trouble. But this time he deserved it. He deserved it entirely and his hands began to shake.
"I'm sorry. I'm a complete wanker and I know it." The sound of the quill scratching across parchment was the only response he got and it hurt worse than he could have imagined. "I just... don't want you to die." His voice cracked on the last word, but was hopefully covered by the closing of the study door. It wasn't like anyone would be passing by; it was just force of habit.
"I don't intend to die," Snape replied crisply, the lie coming easily to his lips. The words were flowing easily across the page now that he was in control of his emotions once again.
"But you could," Harry whispered. "You aren't immortal. You could be dead before I even arrive and..." He cut off his voice abruptly as he stared down at his bare feet. The cold of the floor stung his toes and sent gooseflesh up his legs and eventually onto his arms.
Snape set down his quill and looked up at Harry, his face impassive. "You're right; I could die before you arrive. I could die on the way. I could die after it's all over. But it doesn't matter, Mister Potter, because regardless, you will live. I will make certain of that," he said, picking up his quill to resume writing.
Harry's head shot up as he stared at Snape with an unreadable expression. "But..." he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. What had he been about to say? He couldn't even fathom what had been on the tip of his tongue just seconds before. "When are you leaving?"
"I need to finish this and make arrangements for its delivery," Snape replied, not looking up from his parchment. "The Order needs to be notified at some point of what is going on, and what needs to be done once...Voldemort is dead," he said, catching himself before he said 'I'.
Harry nodded distractedly. "This is it, isn't it?" he asked, staring at the top of Snape's head, willing the man to look up.
Snape looked up, his face blank. "This is what, exactly?" he asked.
"I'm going to leave this office and you're going to go without saying another word to me, aren't you?" He wouldn't cry. Crying was for girls, damn it. He wasn't going to cry.
Snape stared at Harry for a long moment before lowering his eyes. He couldn't cope with the pain he saw in Harry's eyes. "I will see you before I go," he said quietly.
Harry's lips twitched in a sad attempt at a smile. "Thank you," he murmured, before walking out of the office without another word. He didn't know what to do with himself. He meandered aimlessly into the sitting room before taking up residence on the couch. He stared at the fire wishing it to ignite since his wand was still in the other room, but nothing came of it.
He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, his arms wrapping tightly around his shins as he stared blankly into the blackened fireplace.
Snape stared at the closed door, trying to make sense of things. He knew that if he left Potter to his own devices for too long, the boy would stew and would probably be a wreck by the time dusk fell. He had been worried about the few hours Harry would have to spend alone, and now the prospect of leaving him to spend all afternoon by himself weighed heavily upon Snape.
Cursing himself for caring either way, Snape finished his letter to the Order and sealed it. He rose to his feet and left the study, walking through the house until he found Harry, staring blankly into the empty fireplace.
"Do you wish to accompany me to the barn?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice neutral.
Harry turned his head slowly to the side. If he was surprised to see Snape standing there, he didn't act it.
"All right," he replied, his voice hollow.
Snape sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This wouldn't work. The boy sounded defeated already, and the fight hadn't even begun. Unfortunately, Snape didn't have the first clue how to fix it.
Harry followed Snape despondently through the house and towards the front hall. He hadn't said one word since agreeing to follow Snape to deliver the letters.
Snape stopped at the Apparation point and waited for Harry to catch up. The boy wasn't even watching where he was going, his gaze fixed on his own feet.
Snape deliberately stepped into Harry's path, causing Harry to startle when they collided.
Harry stared up at Snape with vague curiosity. "Yes?"
Snape frowned. "You've already given up, haven't you?" he asked, his eyes searching Harry's.
Harry had enough sense to bow his head in shame.
Snape shook his head and looked up, hoping for some kind of answer. Finding nothing but clouds, he looked at the top of Harry's head, his uncaring facade slipping away.
He reached out and placed his hand on the back of Harry's neck, pulling him to him and tucking Harry's head under his chin as he had done the night before.
Harry remained stiff in his arms for a few moments before he let out a shuddering exhale and collapsed against him.
Snape smiled against the top of Harry's head. He understood that nothing else mattered but getting through the day. He lifted his head and looked around, before Apparating the two of them to the barn, ensuring their privacy from anyone passing by.
Harry shook when they reappeared, not used to side-along Apparation. He couldn't bring himself to pull away from Snape yet though and Snape was making no move to release him.
"You've been stewing again," Snape mumbled against his hair. He knew that he was to blame for Harry's declining mood, but he acted out of habit. Shutdown, then nothing matters. Except the person he was shutting out was falling apart at the worst possible time.
He sighed heavily, and held Harry a little tighter.
Harry raised his arms and gripped the back of Snape's shirt, letting out a shaky sigh. "M'sorry."
Snape said nothing, just held on to him, not knowing what else to say or do.
They stood perfectly still for a long minute or two before Snape pulled away, Harry's hands slowly falling back to his sides.
"I must owl these." Snape held up the letters he had been writing earlier. Harry blinked lethargically before nodding.
Snape held out his arm and the old owl swooped down, perching himself on Snape's shoulder. Snape tied the letters to the owl's leg. "These are not to be delivered until dusk, understood?" Snape said, scowling at the bird, who nipped his ear before flying back up to the rafters.
"Daft bird," Snape muttered, turning his attention back to Harry. "Would you like to walk a bit?" he asked, not wanting to go back to the house yet. He was going to have to leave Harry there soon enough, and he didn't want him going any more stir crazy than he had to.
"Yeah, all right," Harry responded with a small shrug. It was the most movement he had done voluntarily since seating himself on the sofa.
They walked out of the barn into an overcast sky, the weather somehow fitting for the night ahead. Harry shuffled along next to him, not really paying attention to anything.
"Damn it, Potter, you've got to snap out of this," Snape said, coming to a stop and grabbing Harry by the shoulders.
Harry turned his head to the side and stared into the forest that lined the edge of the property, before looking back at Snape.
"Why?"
"If you don't, we're both as good as dead," Snape said simply.
"We are as good as dead," Harry answered, his voice carrying little of its usual challenge.
Snape wanted to shake him, anything to bring him out of his stupor. "Then what's the point? Go back to your friends and you can all die together, because that's all that will be left for them. Death," Snape growled angrily. "Everyone you know, Muggle and wizard alike, will be nothing but toys for Voldemort to break."
Harry couldn't say anything. Guilt seemed to worm its way through his gut and out through his skin as he just stood there. "Say it."
"Say what?" Snape snapped.
"I'm a worthless freak. Say it."
Snape stepped back, looking at Harry in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Snape asked, completely lost. "If you were worthless, I would not have wasted my time on you for the last three months! Damn it, Potter, where is all this coming from?" he asked, exasperated.
Harry blinked rapidly and stared at Snape in confusion. His mouth hung open dumbly for a few seconds before he shut it again. He shook his head and blinked another couple of times before asking the ever eloquent word, "What?"
"Why in the name of Merlin would you think you were worthless?" Snape asked, frowning. "I've done everything I can to prepare you for tonight. If I thought it was an impossible task, I would not let you go. I would tell you run as far away as you could, the rest of us be damned."
Snape squeezed his shoulders. "But it is not impossible, and I know you can accomplish what needs to be done."
Harry bit his lip and bowed his head, ashamed. "I can't do it," he breathed, his voice thick. He looked back up at Snape, his eyes watery. "I can't."
"You can, and you will," Snape countered, cupping Harry's face and running a thumb across his cheek to wipe away the single tear that had fallen.
Snape knew it was cruel, but he had to use Harry's own feelings against him. "If not, then you can return to your friends, and I will go on alone."
"But...why?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "Why would you go?"
"Because I have no intention of spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and more importantly, I promised Albus that I would see this through to the end," Snape said with a slight shrug. "I have broken too many promises, Potter. I will not break that one."
Harry felt the impact of the words slam into him and it left him momentarily breathless. He hit his head against Snape's chest which was the closest thing to hit and exhaled slowly, his fists clenching at his side.
"Why me?" he asked, not caring one way or the other if Snape answered, he just had to say it aloud. Just once.
Snape ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of Harry's neck. "Why not?" he asked in return. "I wouldn't trust it to anyone else."
"At least someone believes in me," he muttered, not moving his head.
Snape gripped Harry's hair and pulled it back, forcing his head up. Snape looked down at him, frowning. "Which doesn't matter if you don't believe in yourself," Snape replied, internally cringing at how trite that sounded.
"It doesn't matter if I die, so long as I take Voldemort with me."
Snape's grip tightened. "I will not let you die," he growled, dark eyes blazing.
"You can't promise that," Harry cried out with annoyance.
"You're correct, I can't," Snape replied, loosening his grip on Harry. "But I can promise that I won't leave you to fight alone, and I will do anything and everything in my power to get both of us out alive."
It was perhaps the first time in years that Snape actually felt guilt accompanying a lie.
Harry scanned his face for any deception, but Snape's face was closed off as always. Something had been off about the last of his words but he couldn't boldly say that Snape was lying to him, because if Snape actually admitted to it, Harry wasn't sure what he would do.
"I need to know your choice, Harry," Snape said softly. "If you're giving up, tell me now so I can plan accordingly."
"No, I'll go. I'll fight, for them," he said vaguely waving his hand off towards nowhere.
Snape's lip quirked into a smile. "Most of 'them' don't deserve it," he said, snorting.
"Yeah, but some of them do," Harry commented.
Snape sighed as if put upon. "If you insist on saving them all, I suppose I must let you," he said, unable to hold back a smile.
"I've got a 'saving people complex', remember?"
Snape rolled his eyes. "I suggest that tomorrow you adopt a new complex, as your current one gives me a bloody headache."
"Well then, what you would you suggest? If I can't keep this one, I'm fairly lost."
Snape thought for a moment. "How about, a 'sitting in a locked room with no furniture and soft walls' complex?" he asked. "It will certainly keep you out of trouble."
"I will not submit myself to a loony bin," Harry grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.
"I was thinking more along the lines of my cellar," he said, smirking. "At least then I could keep an eye on you from the comfort of my own home."
"You have a cellar?"
"Idiot," Snape muttered, looking up at the sky. He could make out the sun through the clouds, and it had moved further across the sky than he would have liked.
"I've got to go," he said, looking at Harry for a long moment. Deciding he had nothing to lose at this juncture, he leaned in, and kissed Harry gently, before pulling back.
"I'll see you in a few hours," he said, brushing a thumb across Harry's lip.
Harry swayed forward unconsciously, his eyes glued to Snape's face. "You won't die?"
"I'm indestructible, haven't you noticed?" Snape replied, smirking smugly. He stepped back, creating some distance between them. With a last smile, he Disapparated.
Harry winced at the loud pop that seemed to echo down the silent hillside and straight through his body. A gust of wind seemed to follow in Snape's wake and it hit Harry, making him shiver. He jerkily rubbed at an eye beneath his glasses, hating himself for having wetness appear on his hand.