A/N – I'm sorry about the delay with the update…Real Life has been interfering again. That, and I've been preoccupied with The Tension and The Spark (which, I promise to those of you who are following it, will be updated very soon). I'd hoped to update them together, but writer's block got in my way and delayed Tension, and I sort of put it all off. Which was wrong. So I'm apologising profusely, and I hope against hope that this chapter makes up for the long wait. Let me know.
To say that Poppy Pomfrey was shocked was an understatement.
Severus Snape.
Severus Snape and Harry Potter.
Together.
It was incomprehensible.
Naturally, she'd heard the rumours of young Mr Potter's…feelings…for Hogwarts' resident Potions Master –Merlin, everyone had-, but never in a million years would she have believed the older man capable of allowing something to develop between himself and a student.
Especially this student.
And yet, the cold, hard evidence was staring her in the face.
She sighed and glanced at the parchment once more, before waking her unconscious patient with a vial of smelling salts. Once Harry came to, she narrowed her eyes at him, her hands firmly on her hips.
"Care to explain, Mr Potter?" She asked, her tone curt.
His cheeks coloured, "I never slept with Professor Snape." He blurted out. "I know it looks like it, but you have to believe me…"
She arched an eyebrow. "Do I?"
Harry nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. "M'me Pomfrey, please. I can explain…" He paused, "I think…"
"Go on." She prompted, still not softening for him. She was genuinely worried. A relationship between student and teacher was definitely not acceptable at Hogwarts. Harry could be expelled and Severus…Severus would lose his job.
The green eyed boy sighed, "Alright…So it started a couple of months ago…"
The Mediwitch sat back and listened as Harry launched into his tale. She shook her head sadly as he reached the conclusion –that was; the fact that he was now sitting in the infirmary pregnant to his Potions professor, despite the fact that they'd never even looked at each other without malice. The Boy Who Lived sniffled, and turned away from her as silent tears fell down his cheeks.
"Well, Harry dear," Poppy began, passing him a tissue, "It is my duty to inform the staff of your condition." He looked panicked and she smiled softly at him, "It has to be done, child. To ensure your safety. And the safety of your baby."
The Gryffindor teen nodded his understanding. "You won't tell them about Snape?"
She shook her head. "No, dear. It is your choice as to whether you want people to know the paternity. However, Severus himself deserves to know. Despite the strange circumstances, he does have the right to know he will be a father." Before Harry could protest, she gave him the final blow, "Which is why you will inform him of your condition yourself."
"What!" The Boy Who Lived lunged into a sitting position.
"Harry-"
"NO!"
She glowered. "Mr Potter! You alone are responsible for your actions. Not Mr Malfoy. Not anyone else. Just you. And, for that reason alone, it is your duty to inform Severus that you are pregnant and that the child is his. How you choose to do so is up to you, though I expect you to have told him before the beginning of your seventh year. The other professors will be informed this evening-"
"So he'll find out that I'm pregnant by tonight anyway." Harry finished glumly. Poppy nodded, and he sighed. "How am I supposed to tell him it's his?"
She shrugged. "You'll work that out when the time comes." Deciding that the conversation was over, she moved onto other important issues. "Now, we must discuss your dietary requirements…"
Harry groaned and fell back against his pillow.
It was going to be a long day.
-?-
Severus Snape snarled at the parchment on his desk.
He was frustrated.
For the past few months, he'd become increasingly aware of a pair of emerald green eyes watching his every move. When the news of Potter's little crush had reached him, he'd been initially shocked (hell, he had even chuckled at the thought!), and then he'd become more pissed off with the brat than ever before.
Naturally, once the information had seeped into his brain, Severus had ignored the sodding Boy Who Lived wherever possible, in the hopes that the lack of any form of acknowledgement would throw the boy's attention off.
And it had worked.
Or so he had thought.
For a blissful month, Harry -the pain in his arse- Potter had stopped watching him. It appeared that the brat might have even found another avenue for his affections. (Of course, Severus hadn't been able to distinguish who the next lucky man was…not that he was interested in Potter's affairs, of course.) But then, as suddenly as the lack of infatuation had begun, it vanished, and in its place were a pair of bright green eyes, drilling into the back of Snape's neck worse than ever before.
It irked the potions master.
After all, why would the damned brat want him?
Perhaps it was simply a case of lusting after that which he knew he could never have.
That thought made sense.
Harry Potter was Severus Snape's polar opposite. He was Gryffindor and Severus was Slytherin. Potter was student and Snape was teacher. Harry was young and Severus was…mature.
They were from rival families. No Snape and Potter had ever gotten along. Surely the brat knew that this scenario was no different, especially considering the Potions Master's past with his father.
Not that any of it mattered to Severus, really. All that concerned him was how to get rid of the brat. With all the wizards and witches lusting after the damn boy, it shouldn't be hard for the kid to find someone else to set his sights on.
Even if he was a stubborn, foolhardy Gryffindor.
A stubborn, foolhardy Gryffindor whose potions skills (or lack there of) were decaying more and more each passing day.
Closing his eyes, and pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape attempted to shift his thoughts on to something –anything- other than Potter.
It didn't work.
With a guttural growl of frustration, Severus swiped at the papers on his desk, sending them flying. Why couldn't he stop the brat from haunting his every waking moment? He spun angrily and glared at another stack of parchments, lifting his arm to attack them as well, but halted his actions at the sound of a timid knock at his door.
"Enter." He snapped, brandishing his wand and ordering the scattered papers on his floor to rearrange themselves back onto his desk. Once satisfied the mess was cleared, he turned stiffly to come face to face with the very object of his angered thoughts. "Potter," he hissed, arching his upper lip in distaste. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your company this evening?"
The Boy Who Lived frowned slightly, and looked towards the floor. "Sorry, Sir." He said meekly, piquing Snape's interest. After all, it wasn't like the boy to be so despondent. He would usually be snapping right back and losing himself hundreds of house-points in the process.
"You have yet to answer my question." Severus drawled, his tone dangerous.
Harry forced himself to look up at his Potions Master. 'I'm a brave Gryffindor,' he told himself firmly, 'I wont let him see me weak.' Swallowing, and summoning up the remains of his courage, he began the spiel he'd been rehearsing all afternoon. "I'm sure you noticed my absence from class this afternoon…"
Snape nodded. "Indeed. I received notice from Madame Pomfrey as to your whereabouts, thus you need not worry over the loss of house-points." He sneered, "Though if you do not leave my personal office within-"
"I'm pregnant." The boy blurted out, throwing his carefully prepared explanation to the wind and cutting the older wizard off in the process.
Severus fought the urge to splutter. Maintaining his cool outer resolve, he quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." He paused, "And how, exactly, does that concern me?" He knew that Poppy had probably sent the boy to tell him for issues of health and safety in the Potions classroom, however he longed to make the boy squirm.
He watched as Harry blushed, and shuffled his feet nervously.
"I…well you see, sir…Madame Pomfrey thought it best that I tell you because-"
He was interrupted by a tall, blond, speeding Slytherin. "Professor Snape," Draco huffed, racing past the Gryffindor, not even noticing his existence. "There's been a-" suddenly he came to the realisation that he and the Potions Master were not alone. "Potter?"
The raven-haired boy's eyes widened in horror. Oh, Merlin, If Draco had heard him…He swallowed audibly, and greeted the younger Slytherin with a nod. "Malfoy."
"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco sneered, whilst sizing his former lover up. To the Slytherin, Harry looked incredibly pale and sickly. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"I'm looking directly at you," Potter shot back, "So, I'd say that explains it."
The blond scowled, but was prevented from retaliating by Snape's hand on his shoulder.
"Mr Potter, I believe I have heard all I need to." He said silkily, "I will…accommodate… for your situation in class." He motioned towards the door, and nodded dismissal. "Good evening."
The Boy Who Lived looked slightly panicked for a moment, and hesitated in leaving. He had promised Poppy. It was, after all, his responsibility to let the professor know. And yet, here he was, being given the perfect opportunity to escape a potentially humiliating scene for the moment.
"Good night, Professor," He eventually responded, nodding towards the older man, and then the blond Slytherin. "Malfoy."
As he strode out the door, attempting to look calm and collected, he could hear their voices behind him, discussing a Slytherin foul-up in the potions lab.
Harry sighed.
If only his problems were that simple.
-?-
"Oi, Mate, where've you been all night?" Ron's voice assaulted him the second he entered the Gryffindor Common Room. " 'Mione and me went to the hospital wing when you didn't come down for dinner, and she said she'd let you go."
"We were terribly worried." The bushy haired girl put in, furrowing her brow to accentuate her concern. "Ron told me about this morning-"
Harry smothered an exasperated sigh and told himself that his best friends meant well. He plastered a not-entirely-convincing smile onto his face. "You really shouldn't worry…" he began, "I just…I needed to speak to a professor about…something."
Hermione was, as Harry should have predicted, immediately interested. "Oh?" She asked, her eyes lighting up, "Who? And about what? Are you finally taking on some extra credit research?"
He coughed. "Er…I guess you could say I've gotten myself a few more responsibilities…"
She trilled and hugged him. "Oh that's brilliant, Harry! It's about time you really applied yourself! I was beginning to worry about how you were going to become an auror…"
Harry, who had been nodding along to her babbling, froze and narrowed his eyes. "What?"
She seemed to have caught her slip a little late, and attempted to back peddle. "Oh, that's not what I meant…"
"Oh no? Then what did you mean, Hermione?" He snapped. She blushed. "Oh, I don't believe this!" He threw his hands into the air, angrily. "Some day I'm having. First all that crap with Pomfrey and Snape…and Malfoy…and now I find out that my own best friend thinks I'm stupid-"
"-I never said that!" She protested, before realising what else he'd said. "Harry," she said softly, placing a hand on his upper arm, "What happened with Madame Pomfrey?" He looked away, and she reached for his chin, pulling his face back, forcing him to come eye to eye with her. "You don't have Wizard's Flu, do you?"
Resignedly, the raven-haired boy shook his head.
"Then what-" Ron started. Harry cut him off.
"Not here."
Ron's puzzled look became one of understanding as the three of them had a silent conversation with their eyes, before Harry moved off to gather his invisibility cloak.
Once again, the trio was off to the Room of Requirement.
-?-
"Alright…" Ron said, seated comfortably on one of the plush couches of the mini-common room. "What's wrong, then?"
Hermione shot him a look. "Honestly, Ron, don't you know anything about tact?"
"Nup."
"Urgh."
The two continued to bicker, leaving Harry time to plan out just how he was going to break the news to his two best friends.
'Guys, there's something I need to tell you…'No, that was too…cliché. Perhaps if he got straight to the point…
'Okay. So I don't have Wizard's Flu…but I have come down with a bad case of baby-itis.'
Er, definitely not. A tad corny for the situation.
'Have you two ever thought about having kids?'Vague and blasé. Again, not really good enough for the situation. Besides, Ron might think he was insinuating something about his not-exactly-existent relationship with Hermione…
"I'm Pregnant."
Silence followed his impromptu outburst.
Oh, Bloody Hell, I hadn't meant to just say it. Again.
"What?" Hermione was the first to speak, eyeing her best friend worriedly.
Harry braced himself and repeated his dilemma, using various euphemisms to illustrate his point. "I'm pregnant." He said, his voice sounding rather shrill to his own ears. "Up the duff. Bun in the oven. Knocked up. I'm expecting. There is a baby-"
His female counterpart cut him off. "Alright. I've got the picture…"
Ron looked green, and chose to ask the very same question that Harry had earlier that morning. "But…how?"
The Boy Who Lived sighed. "Er…bit of a long explanation there…that's more or less 'Mione's department. Something about female energies and spells…"
"Right…" The redhead nodded, still looking rather bewildered. He leant back into the plush covers of the couch, and thought over his best friend's dilemma. His eyes widened as the knowledge that Harry would have needed a partner in order to get pregnant seeped into his brain. "Oi, mate…" He began cautiously, "Who'd you…y'know?" He made an obscene gesture with his hands, and Harry fought the urge to laugh.
He would have laughed, too, if he hadn't been dreading the question so much.
"Well, see, that's complicated as well..."
Hermione frowned. "How so?"
Harry scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor, avoiding his friends' eyes. "Umm…I…well…" He stopped and took a deep breath. These were his best friends. The two people he was closest to in the entire world. They deserved to know. Especially seeing as they hadn't abandoned him at first mention of his little surprise. Forcing himself to look back into Hermione's eyes, he tried again. "I…I was with Draco…but he was under an Advanced Polyjuice to be Snape…and, apparently, the advancement serum he took was really strong, so, genetically, he was all Snape when he…when he…" he couldn't quite bring himself to say the words 'came inside me'. Swallowing, he tried to soften the blow, even though he knew the attempt was in vain. "Well…the baby is Snape's."
"WHAT!" The know-it-all cried, sounding extremely scandalised. For once, Harry didn't fault her for the tone. "Harry!" She continued, "That's dreadful! It's illegal to impersonate someone…But to become them completely and then create a child with their genetic material-"
The Boy Who Lived scowled. "That wasn't our intention."
"Don't you ever think of possible consequences!"
"Oh, of course." The green-eyed boy spat sarcastically, "Because I should have known that I'm a complete freak of nature." He sneered. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm a boy. How was I supposed to know that there was a possibility that being shagged would result in me getting preggers?"
She glared back, exasperated, but Ron's contribution to the conversation prevented her from replying.
"So, let me get this straight…" The red head said slowly, "You let Malfoy…" he made a face, "er…take you…Only you got him to mix potions and pretend to be Snape…and now you're havin' the Greasy Git's kid, and I bet neither of them know."
Harry looked to the floor and nodded, mutely.
"Mate-" Ron's voice was tentative. Harry sighed.
"I know. It was stupid. And you're really sickened by the fact that it was Dra…Malfoy and-"
Ron sighed sadly, and shook his head. "No." At this, Harry fluttered his eyes, challenging his best friend, causing Ron to back peddle. "Well, okay, yeah…but that's not what I was going to say…" At his best friend's look of surprise, he drew himself up and extrapolated. "Look, you made a mistake. We, all three of us," here he looked pointedly at Hermione, "are known for it. And the last thing you're going to need right now is having us make you feel worse." He shot their female companion another look, and she blushed sheepishly, ducking her head to acknowledge the reprimand. The youngest Weasley male continued. "This…thing…it's going to take some getting used to, but we're best mates, and 'Mione and I will be here for you. We've been through worse together. And, just think-" he grinned, "- Your kid will be the first of a new generation of Mauraders; think of the irony. Snape's own kid working against him…"
"I don't…I don't want to turn it against him…I mean, it is his, after all." Harry sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. "How am I going to tell him? I have until the beginning of 7th year…but M'me Pomfrey wanted me to tell him today and I just…I couldn't. He's going to kill me."
Hermione moved to his side and rubbed reassuring circles on his back. "Not if he wants to keep his child." She said, wincing once the words left her lips. Harry looked up at her, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "I didn't mean…" She sighed. "Professor Snape won't kill you, Harry. But I daresay he will be a little…upset with you and Malfoy…"
The dark-haired boy closed his eyes and leant back into the softness of the couch, willing the entire situation to be a nightmare. 'Any minute now, I'll open my eyes, and I'll be in my bed in Gryffindor tower, and laugh at how insane the dreams were this time.' He thought tiredly, whilst a sinking feeling at the bottom of his abdomen signalled that it was just wishful thinking.
"So, I s'pose that means you'll be staying here over the break, then?" Ron asked after a few minutes, bringing Harry back to reality. "You yourself said you'd never go back to your uncle's place after the battle…and we're visiting Charlie in Romania, otherwise I'd ask you to come to ours…"
The Boy Who Lived turned to Hermione, terrified of the prospect of spending the next few months alone. She looked away, a sad expression taking over her face as she shook her head gently. "Mum and Dad are travelling Europe…they've asked me to go with them…"
"Oh…right…" Of course; she'd been on about the 'educational value' of her trip for the last few months. Harry sighed, "Guess that leaves me here, then." He glanced at the clock and rose to his feet, Ron and Hermione following suit. "It's probably safer that way…There's still a few 'kill Potter' factions out there, at any rate..."
His best friends nodded morosely, and Ron patted his shoulder. "You'll be right, Mate. Speak to Dumbledore about it. He'll sort things out."
"Exactly," The female of the trio nodded, putting in her own two knuts' worth. "You won't have to go through the next few months and all the changes alone. He'd never let that happen."
Okay, so they had a point. Harry nodded. "Alright…Anything's better than being alone for it…" He chuckled, the laugh sounding hollow even to his own ears. "Merlin, even spending time with Filch sounds better than doing the next few months alone…"
-?-
"What?" Harry found himself yelling early the next morning. "No! Being alone is better than staying with…with him!"
"Really, my boy, Severus' company is quite pleasant outside school hours." The Headmaster said, by way of placation.
Harry had just had the dreaded talk with the old coot, and things weren't looking good for him. Oh, sure, Dumbledore had congratulated him for the unexpected turn of events, and assured him that it wouldn't greatly affect his schooling, but then he had broken the news that he, Harry –The Boy Who Lived- Potter, would be spending his summer holidays at Snape Manor. With Snape.
"Sir, with all due respect…he and I despise each other!"
"Really, Mr Potter?" The unmistakable voice of his Potions Master drawled from behind him. "I was under the impression that the feeling was not quite mutual, on your behalf." He was now within Harry's eyesight, and smirking wickedly. "Unless the rumours, which you never fought to deny, were untrue…"
The Gryffindor felt his cheeks burning, and sneered at the older man. "Momentary lapse in my sanity, Sir. Believe me when I say that I've long since recovered from that error in my judgement."
Severus' smirk never faltered, and he pointedly glanced at Harry's taut abdomen. "Indeed."
In that moment, The Boy Who Lived wanted nothing more than to punch that smug look off the older man's face. He merely smiled back, though, making sure to make the look appear as innocent as possible. 'Oh, Severus Snape,' he thought wickedly, 'if you only knew, you wouldn't look so proud of yourself.' His thoughts paused for a second before adding, 'Of course, you may want to throttle me to death…but that would be understandable enough…'
The Headmaster clapped his hands together, apparently delighted with the fact that neither wizard had hexed the other yet. "Well then, I believe it's settled. Harry, you may leave. I wish to speak to Severus in private. I expect you both to meet here half an hour after the carriages have departed at the close of term. Good luck with your exams."
Accepting the dismissal, Harry thanked Dumbledore, nodded coldly in Snape's direction, and then made his way back down the stairs.
"Hey, Potter!"
The Gryffindor stopped short in the corridor and turned slowly to face the owner of the voice. "Malfoy," he sighed. "What do you want?"
"A good luck kiss for the game tonight?" The blond grinned wickedly, "After all, you'll need it this time."
Harry felt compelled to cry. He'd had to withdraw from the team due to his condition, leaving Ron to make up an explanation, and handle the abuse. And, to make matters worse, the deciding game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was that night.
"Not a chance." He eventually replied, squashing his emotions. "Besides, I'm not playing tonight." Or ever again, it seems.
Draco's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and genuine concern. "What? Why?"
Despite their continual bickering, both boys knew that they were the other's only real competition. For Harry to refuse to play in the deciding match signalled that something was definitely wrong with the boy. He was giving away the game and the cup.
To Slytherin.
"Potter," the Slytherin prompted when the other boy remained silent. "Harry," he tried again in desperation, "Why are you throwing away your chance at the Cup? I mean, if you're not playing, it's not even worth Slytherin getting out there and trying."
"Was that a compliment, Malfoy?" Harry half-smiled.
Draco smirked, "Don't get used to it, Potter." There was a brief span of silence before he asked once more. "But, honestly, why-"
"Pomfrey would kill me if I got on a broom now."
"And why is that?" The blond narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Surely the Flu-"
Harry's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was sick of lying. "-I don't have the Flu, Draco."
"Oh?"
"Listen…the walls have ears here…let's walk…"
The strange pair made their way down the corridors in silence, before exiting the building altogether. Minutes later found them sitting by the lake shore, where Harry picked up a couple of flat pebbles and proceeded to throw them so they skipped across the water's flat surface, leaving small ripples in their wake.
"Alright, Harry," Draco finally spoke, leaning back against a tree trunk. "You were saying?"
The Boy Who Lived stared out across the water. "I'm…shite this is hard…promise me you wont go telling the entire school?" He turned pleading eyes onto his former rival. The blond was taken aback by the vulnerability the other young man was displaying and nodded, waiting upon the explanation. Harry swallowed and turned back to watch the Giant Squid. "I…well…apparently, I'm going to be a father."
There was silence from behind him, and he cautiously peered around to come face to face with a confused-as-all-hell Malfoy.
"But…You're gay, Potter." Draco said slowly, "And how does you getting on a broom effect the fact that you put your bun in some chit's oven?"
"Um, maybe I should have phrased that better…See," Harry sat down beside the other boy, and fiddled with a few tufts of grass, "I…um…I'm going to be a father…in the sense that I'm going to be a mother." The blond looked even more puzzled. Harry sighed. Perhaps simply blurting it out like he had on the previous two occasions was his best bet after all. "I'm pregnant, Draco."
"You're…" What little colour was left on the pale boy's face disappeared. "Oh, Merlin…Did I…is it mine?"
Harry winced. "Yes, you did… but, on the same token, no, it's not."
A bit of the old Draco was back in an instant. "What the bloody hell are you on about? How could I have gotten you up the duff and then have it not be mine?"
Well, at least he wasn't asking how Harry had managed to conceive in the first place.
The Gryffindor sighed, "Remember the advancing serum? Apparently it was really strong. You were all Snape. Right down to your…erm…little swimmers."
Draco was too stunned to comment on Harry's display of naivety. "Fuck."
"That's pretty much where this started."
"Don't get smart with me, Potter."
"If I had been smart with you, Malfoy, I wouldn't have agreed to your stupid plan in the first place."
"I didn't hear you complaining during the act."
Harry blushed, and still attempted to scowl. "And yet, I'm complaining now."
"It's a bit too late for that."
"Don't you think I know it is!"
The Boy who lived slumped back against the tree, and ran his hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "He's going to kill us both, you know. And I don't know how to tell him. I mean, I have to spend all summer at his Manor, with him…I'm completely screwed."
Draco smirked. "I do believe you said it before, but allow me to reiterate. That's where this started."
"Oh, shut up."
-?-
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore was thanking his Potions Master for going above and beyond the call of duty in taking Harry Potter under his wing for the holidays.
"I must say, Severus," the older wizard admitted, grinning from ear to ear, "that your generous offer caught me off guard last night. It is not exactly a secret that you and our young Mr Potter have had a rather rocky teaching relationship in the past."
Snape indulged the Headmaster with a small smile as he sipped his tea. "Indeed. However, the boy did tell me of his…condition…on his own merit, rather than waiting for Poppy to deliver the news in the staff meeting later in the evening; an action which struck me as odd."
"Ah," Albus nodded, sagely. "So you have taken it upon yourself to monitor the child. Is this another pet project, Severus?"
The Head of Slytherin shrugged easily. "An old spy needs something with which to entertain himself during the usually boring months."
"And I daresay Harry will keep you on your toes."
Severus nodded gently, and set his attentions back to his tea, allowing his gaze to wander around the cluttered room. He shook his head at the many sleeping portraits, and wondered how any of the old fools ever managed to run the school if they were so prone to exhaustion, before moving on to study the various knick-knacks lining the shelves. The sword of Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat, a quill made out of what he suspected was Fawkes' tail-feathers…The list went on. Movement on the grounds, as could be seen through one of the tower's windows, soon caught his hawk-like eye, and he lazily turned to inspect the scene with a bit more detail. Upon closer inspection, he almost spat out his tea in surprise.
After all, he was certainly not expecting to see Potter and Malfoy lazing by the lake, involved in a rather serious –and civil, by the look of it- conversation.
"Spotted something interesting, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, smiling happily.
"Quite…" Snape stood and moved towards the window, casting a magnifying charm for a better view. "It appears that Misters Potter and Malfoy do not dislike one another to the extent that we have always assumed."
Predictably, Albus' eyes twinkled. "Is that really so surprising?" He asked, "The two are not without their similarities."
"Indeed. Although, I do believe that it was their similarities which caused them to clash so violently."
"Perhaps they've just matured, my boy." The Headmaster patted his former pupil on the back fondly; "I seem to remember you and James putting your differences aside at the close of your schooling."
Severus shot the older man a withering glare. "At your request, Albus. Malfoy and Potter are voluntarily in company with one another. The situation is without precedent."
"The threat of Voldemort is gone, and both boys have proven where their loyalties lie…With his father unable to control him, Draco has been able to reinvent himself…" Albus summoned a sweet to his hand as he spoke, "And Harry is a good person; he believes in second chances."
The Potions Master shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Albus, your ramblings are sickeningly sweet…" He glanced back at the grounds, "And you overestimate your students. Potter and Malfoy are natural troublemakers. The notion that they are getting along worries me. Merlin only knows what sort of schemes they are developing."
The headmaster chuckled, "It may be true that I have occasionally overestimated students, however, more often than not, you underestimate them, Severus. The two boys might have developed a genuine friendship and could be merely discussing Quidditch…" His eyes twinkled merrily, "And, in his new-found condition, I trust that Harry will no longer be willing to put himself in danger with any mischievous behaviour."
"I will put nothing past Potter, nor Malfoy." The Slytherin huffed, thrusting his aquiline nose into the air. "And I will continue to observe them, until I discover the exact cause of this bizarre behaviour."
Dumbledore laughed at his former student, and nodded as a means of humouring him. "If that is the case, Severus, I wish you all the luck these holidays." He grinned, his bushy white moustache twitching with amusement, "For I am certain that young Mr Potter will keep you entertained, to say the least."
Severus lifted his cup to his lips and smirked slightly. "Indeed."
-?-
The next few days flew past in a blur. Harry prayed for the time to slow, as he was not looking forward to bidding farewell to his friends and spending months with Severus Snape. But, unfortunately, the time evaporated in front of his very eyes and soon enough, he was standing on Hogwarts' stone steps, clinging on to Hermione for dear life.
"Please don't go," he begged, tears inching their way out of his eyes, "I can't do this…I need you…We need you."
This emotional ploy, he had found, worked wonders with his female friend, who had fallen head-over-heels in love with the thought of Harry's baby. She mothered him constantly, and always made sure that he had everything that he and the baby needed.
This time, however, the attempt to emotionally blackmail the know-it-all failed.
She shook her bushy head. "I'm sorry, Harry. Really I am. But I have to go. You will both be perfectly fine with Professor Snape. And it will give you time to get used to one another…especially with you-know-what…" She glanced down at his abdomen, pointedly. "You might find that you actually get along with him, if you give him a chance."
"Before he kills us, you mean." Harry replied angrily. This response proved to be a mistake as it caused Hermione to plant her hands on her hips and launch into a lecture about decisions, actions and accepting their consequences.
"-and you know very well that you have nobody to blame other than yourself for this, Harry," she was saying, waving her hands about as she spoke, echoing Madame Pomfrey's initial sentiments. "And you simply can't blame him if he gets a little…upset with you. Merlin only knows I would be, if I were him. You're in no position to deny him the right to that sort of reaction. And you are definitely not in the position to be angry at him for anything."
The-Boy-Who-Was-Beginning-To-Regret-Living sighed. His friend was right. She was always bloody right. Often to the extent of being an insufferable know-it-all, just as Snape had termed it all those years ago. However, Harry knew she didn't mean to hurt him or put him down. She was simply acting in his best interests, really, by refusing to allow him to wallow in self-pity. By reminding him of the harsh reality of the situation that he'd gotten himself into.
Still, her attitude irritated him.
"I know," he eventually said, his tone somewhat cold. "I'm the one who fucked up; figuratively and literally. And I've got enough to remind me about it every single day, without listening to you remind me time and time again in that holier-than-thou way of yours."
The bushy haired girl was tearing up, and, on some level, he felt guilty for hurting her feelings. But it wasn't enough to make him stop his tirade. Oh, no. He felt abandoned. He felt lonely. He was misunderstood, always the outcast and was always being condescended to. Especially by one Hermione –sodding- Granger.
"You know all the answers to everything, don't you?" He continued, sounding incredibly snide. "But, really, you don't. You don't have the faintest clue about how I feel. How I've ever felt. You don't know what I've had to endure-" she moved to protest and he held up his hand to silence the attempt. "No. For once you will listen and I will talk."
She clamped her mouth shut, and he felt encouraged to keep going.
"You don't know what it's like to grow up in an abusive household, see freedom and then have to go back every year whilst other kids get to spend their hols with loving, caring people. And you really don't know what it's like to continuously lose the people you love-" he thought of the parents he never had the chance to know, the Godfather who died practically by his own hand, and the members of the Order who died trying to protect him, "-over and over again. You don't know…" he took a breath, as if considering the rest of his rant, "anything of any importance, really. All books and facts, you are. Nothing substantial. Nothing real."
She was crying now, and, though he knew he'd caused her pain, he couldn't begin to regret his outburst. He couldn't bring himself to apologise. It would be useless. After all; he had meant every word he'd said, despite the fact that he could have softened the blow a little.
"Well," she managed to choke, rubbing furiously at her eyes, "Now that's settled, I know at least one thing of practical value," she spat the words, and her eyes –now devoid of tears- flashed with anger and pain, "I know to stay out of your business from now on. You'll not have to worry about my meddling in things I don't understand anymore."
And, on that note, she turned swiftly on her heel and clambered into the nearest thestral-drawn carriage.
Harry, still recovering from the release of so much pent up emotion, watched her leave, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye.
As the carriages left the grounds, and his anger subsided, the Gryffindor felt more miserable than ever.
Then the overwhelming feeling of remorse kicked in, causing his knees to buckle under the pressure of a guilty conscience. And, in that moment, he felt as though he would have given anything to take those horrible things back…to make her pain go away.
And so it was no surprise, then, that he was sobbing when Snape eventually came and found him curled up in a ball, having howled for the earth to open up and swallow him, begged for Hermione to come back and soothe him, and prayed for his unborn child to be taken away, so that he may never have the chance to hurt them like he inevitably did everyone else.
A/N- Well, then, off you go…Press the little 'review' button…((GRIN)) All jokes aside, I really do appreciate the fact that you are still reading and reviewing this one, as it has been posted so many times...I've lost so much valuable feedback over the years because of it, so it fills me with warm fuzzies to still be receiving reviews for Afterglow even now. Tthank you allfor keeping me motivated to repost it. I'd have given up years ago had it not been for your continued support.