My stomach lurched violently but I bit back the bile, and rested a shaking hand on Potter's shoulder.

"Potter, come. We have to get out of here."

"We can't leave him here, Snape! I won't leave his body here; I can't." He sobbed and clung to the bloody remains of his friend.

I sighed and turned to Minerva, "What happened?"

"Greyback attacked him and apparated before we could do anything," her voice shook, but she remained composed.

I squeezed Potter's shoulder roughly, "We need to get out of here before more come after us."

Potter rose sharply, his face inches from mine, with fury written on his face.

"So we just leave his body? He was just another damned pawn, Snape, just a fallen piece for the greater good? No! He was my friend; I am not leaving his body here."

My eyebrow quirked and I felt my lip curl, "So we bring the bloody corpse then, Potter? Or better yet, we stay here and hand you over to the Death Eaters when they come after Greyback informs them of the mission going awry. I know Weasley was your friend, Potter, but let's not have more unnecessary deaths today."

Granger's voice was void of emotion as she spoke, "He's right, Harry. The best thing we can do is keep moving. Somehow we'll get Ron's body back, and have a proper burial. We just need to go now."

"You all can bloody go, but Fred and I are going to apparate to St. Mungos with Ron's body," George clasped an arm around his twin.

Fred nodded, "Yes, so you all go on ahead now. Get out of here before they come back."

"I'm going with you two. Mum and dad will need us," Ginny added quietly, with a look that left no room for argument.

Minerva nodded, "Send our condolences, and be careful. The rest of you, we have to get going now."

Lupin helped Black to the car as Minerva led Granger back. The twins each heaved a limb over their necks and joined hands with Ginny. With a faint crack they were all gone. Potter hung back, still inches from me.

Potter touched my arm softly, and stared up at me, "When we get to headquarters you're teaching me the nastiest spells you know. I'm going to kill this bastard in the most unpleasant way possible."

I shook my head, "You lack the most vital thing to perform those sorts of spells, a heart filled with hate."

I guided him back to the car without another word and sat next to him once more. Everyone remained silent the rest of the way, with the exception of the sniffling of Miss Granger. Potter's hand rested firmly on my knee, but he stared out the window. We were all in such shock; we thought the move was going to be safe. We were leaving danger behind, but instead we encountered danger. Albus, I don't know how you did it. How could you see such things and still want to wake up the next morning?

I shook my head hard enough that Potter turned to look at me. His eyes were heavily bloodshot from crying, his face wet with tears, and his lips swollen and red from him chewing on them. A lump caught in my throat and I had to stare at the floor. I could not afford to gaze at him, even in his saddest moments he appears nothing short of beautiful. I shut my eyes tightly and worried my bottom lip with my teeth. No, Potter is not beautiful, and I am not allowing myself anymore such thoughts. Potter is a prat with an ego the size of London. Potter is a stubborn git that refuses to learn anything because he won't focus on the task at hand. Potter is used to getting anything he wants and I will not be a mere conquest.

-x-

It was with a heavy heart I entered Albus' house. I had been here only once before, and I couldn't imagine entering the house without seeing the old coot. But no twinkling set of eyes greeted me, and no voice with barely concealed amusement offered me candy I wouldn't take. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and I took in a deep, calming breath.

The house had more protection than Black's house, but I felt more vulnerable than ever. The weight on my shoulders seemed to grow as I helped to bring the trunks in. Waves of anxiety crashed into me, and I got swept up in a panic. In a flurry of robes I made my way to the small library and locked the door behind me. I slunk to the floor and cradled my aching head in my hands.

"Albus, I can't do this." I murmured against my skin.

"My dear boy, you can do quite a lot!" the bemused tone echoed around me.

My head shot up and I stared with wide eyes at his portrait. How someone could even capture that damned twinkle he had was beyond me, but there it was. I gaped slightly before regaining my composure.

"Talking to a portrait isn't going to help me," I growled at him.

"Hm, perhaps not, but it is better than talking to yourself. Severus, my boy, you are filling yourself with thoughts you don't need. Stop torturing yourself and talk to someone, preferably alive, and get your feelings out," his tone was warm.

"I only did that with you, sir. Even then that was limited to certain things. It's not in my nature to open myself up like a book to people. I'm no Gryffindor idiot proudly boasting my heart on my sleeve."

"No, Severus, but no one man can carry the world on his shoulders. Please learn from my mistakes. Now, Harry is on his way here so I'm heading back to Hogwarts. He will bank too much on talking to a painting."

"I'm doing the same, " I sighed.

I stood slowly and stretched until I heard the satisfying pop from my back. I moved and sat on the small couch and tilted my head back, staring at the high ceiling. The charms I had set were undone with careless ease and Potter stuck his head in the door a moment later.

"Snape?" his voice was timid.

"Potter?" my voice was not.

He slid in the room and locked the door behind him, "I came to make sure you were okay. I was, er, worried when you went running by."

I laughed bitterly, "I'm as good as could be expected, Potter. How can you be concerned for me though, when it is you who has lost a friend? Are you okay, Mister Potter?"

He practically threw himself on me and buried his head in the crook of my neck. I tensed up, but let him stay there. Then he began sobbing and he clutched onto my robes. Tentatively I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to calm him somewhat. Inwardly I was thanking any god I had ever heard of that Albus had not decided to stick around to see this. He stilled finally and sighed heavily.

"I don't think I can do this, Snape."

I smirked at the similarities in us, "Can't do what, Potter?"

"Be the reason another person dies; I can't have it happen anymore."

"Potter, you did not kill Weasley. Do not take away his dying glory; he died defending people he loved. You have no right to take that from him by saying it was your doing."

He moved back a bit and stared at me, "Since when did you believe someone had glory in death? What happened to the pawn metaphor?"

I rolled my eyes, "A pawn sacrifices itself for the greater good because he has to. Other pieces have the option of fleeing. Weasley had many ample opportunities to flee, but he did not. Weasley was more of a bishop or rook."

He smirked, "Then what are you? You do whatever you damn well please whenever you damn well please, so shouldn't you be the queen?"

I glared, "Are you calling me a bitter, old queen?"

He laughed hard, "I just said queen. You're one of that pawns that made it to the other side of the board and was made an honorary queen. I think it quite fits you."

I mulled it over before nodding, "Perhaps an accurate description; I am surprised at your grasp of the game, Potter."

He slid into my lap then and pressed flush against me, our noses touching, "I've got a different game we could play, Snape. Care to give it a go?"

I sucked in my breath sharply as his cold fingers caressed my cheek. I shook my head and pushed against his chest.

"No, Potter, you're seeking a way out of pain right now. I'm not interested in helping you avoid your emotions."

Soft lips pressed along my jaw, and my body reacted instantly.

He chuckled low in his throat, "You're one to lecture on avoiding emotions. No, I'm not avoiding emotions; I'm exploring more pleasant ones."

I shook my head, but made no other effort to stop him, "Potter, anyone could walk in."

"I don't care," he whispered before kissing me solidly.

A/N: Well, poor Ron got the cut. I know you hate me Amanda, I know. runs out of room before rocks can be thrown