CHAPTER 20: What Binds Us Together…

A/N: This (sort-of final) chapter is dedicated to those faithful reviewers who responded to chapter after chapter: wandamarie, yondi, BlueWater5, Camelot Knight, bootstring, Kyrinea, Hp princess no.1…Thank you! There are more, thanks to you too! Special thanks to zealousfreak—I miss your long, kind reviews…but thanks for giving me some of them, anyway!


I would so much have preferred to die, but you had to go spoil that; didn't you, Potter?


The school had turned on the boy…again. Even Potter's housemates were scowling at him as he walked past. Severus sneered at the House of the noble and the brave. Had they not yet learnt to mistrust the newspapers?

On the other hand, it felt incredibly satisfying to see Potter brought low. Or it would have, if he could just get rid of that hollow feeling in his stomach.

Potter strode to the front of the Hall, head held high, seeming not to hear or mind the whispers around him. Severus sent Dumbledore a discreet glance. The headmaster had informed the students (and staff) that Harry had not used Dark Magic, but clearly had not been convincing enough. Dumbledore was now observing Potter with an expression of pride (hidden to most, but quite plain to Severus) that made Severus' stomach turn.

Idiot boy throws himself in front of a Killing Curse and suddenly he's the second coming of Merlin. Even more so than before.

The boy walked up to Severus, who was positioned in a way as to make this ordeal (or peak experience, for Severus at least) easier. Unfortunately (or fortunately), this meant Potter would also be clearly visible to the entire school, which was now watching with bated breath. I must not smile. I must not give away any sign of satisfaction with Dumbledore watching. Now that I have no spy position to hide behind, heaven only knows what he might do to me… The boy came to a stop before Severus, and got to his knees in a rather impressively graceful motion.

It didn't feel good. In fact, it made Severus' skin crawl, and he had to hide his revulsion rather than his satisfaction. He gripped the edge of the dinner table to ward off the sudden sense of vertigo. What in Merlin;s name was going on? He could clearly remember enjoying this at the beginning the first time round; the feeling of triumph over Potter's son (and hence over Potter). And that had been the kind of Bond that manipulated its participants int closer relationships; this was not.

So why am I unable to enjoy this—? An image of the lifeless body of Harry Potter in his own arms flashed in front of his eyes. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he held out his hand for Potter to kiss. And so Potter wins even as he kneels to me like a Death Eater grovelling before the Dark Lord. Which century does this barbaric practise date back to, anyway? he thought— rhetorically, since he knew both the century and the exact year. It took him a great deal of effort to maintain his poise, and not snatch his hand back.

Potter's lips felt soft on his hand. It reminded him of innocence and love in ruins. Severus fought back a shudder and sternly told his emotions to get themselves under control. He would take his meals in the dungeons from now on, he thought, dispassionate once again as an angry wave of whispers swept through the Hall.


Severus stubbornly ignored his pounding headache as he checked and rechecked his notes. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd decided to go through with this, but it hadn't been far from his thoughts ever since he'd returned with a resurrected Potter and a new lease of life.

Severus' lip curled at the odious prospect of owing his life to yet another Potter. For that was what had happened, no matter what spell the boy had seen fit to unleash. A far corner of his mind informed him that he was being irrational and unfair; that Potter had had no choice but to use the spell in his desperation to save Severus' life.

Well. Rationality had not been governing many of his actions, of late. His mind flashed back to the time when he had deliberately baited the Dark Lord into targeting him rather than Potter. What was I thinking, deliberately provoking him like a brash Gryffindor? Severus scoffed and turned his attention back to the various popular theories surrounding the Veil in the Department of Mysteries.

He had shielded the boy from the Dark Lord because he owed it to Lily to protect her son, that was all. And he would swear to his dying day that there was nothing more to it. Certainly no fatherly affection—

His stomach turned as he remembered. The boy had called him 'Dad' as he'd emerged from unconsciousness, or death, whichever the case was. He had effectively destroyed every single pretext of barriers Severus had set up for the world to see; he had announced to the Order that he thought of Severus, in the deepest confines of his jumbled mind, as his father! It was a wonder they hadn't locked Severus up at once, accusing him of tampering with the boy's mind.

Someone knocked on his door, and walked in without bothering to wait for Severus' permission. Severus snarled and rose from his table, waving his wand at his work to hide it away. The writing on the parchment and books immediately changed to something a lot more dull. Severus stormed away to find out who dared to enter his quarters without so much as showing the courtesy of—

He stopped as the intruder came into view. Of course. He could have smacked himself; who else but Potter would dare to do such a thing? "Potter," he said through gritted teeth, "what—exactly—do you think you're doing?"

Potter was trying to appear unconcerned, but the tightness on his face and in his posture showed otherwise. "Checking the limits of the Bond, actually. The old one would've punished me by now; this one doesn't."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for violating a teacher's privacy. Get out, Potter, or the amount doubles within the next minute."

"You can empty the Gryffindor counter for all I care," Potter returned heatedly. "I came to deliver a message from my mother."

Severus nearly lost his footing as the room tilted alarmingly. Potter noticed, and to Severus' chagrin, moved closer with his arms held out as if to catch him if he fell. "What," Severus rasped.

"You heard me," Potter said. "I was dead, you know, for a while. I saw her and my father. They both said hello. And my mother said not to give up like you did with her."

Severus was having difficulty breathing, so he didn't reply.

"Professor," the boy said in what sounded like genuine concern, "I think you should sit down." Then there were hands on him, and they guided him to the sofa; Severus was too weak to fight them off. Both of them were panting as they ended up on the sofa, Potter as well; the Bond must have been draining him to feed Severus strength.

"Do you think it amusing," Severus said, angry that he still sounded breathless, "to taunt me with memories of the dead? You dare—"

"—to deliver a message?" Potter said excessively politely. "Why, yes, Professor. I don't think it would be very respectful of me to ignore my dead mother's message to her childhood friend, no matter how much I hate to be the one who actually gives you the message. And I'm—not—tricking—you! How dare you say such a thing!"

"Mind your tone, Potter!" Severus said, and before he could stop himself, "Remember your place!"

"My place?" Potter shouted, and then went eerily quiet in a passable imitation of Severus himself. "I am not your slave, Professor Snape, not this time, not really. You know this, as well as I do. And I may have told everyone that nothing that happened in the summer was your fault, but they don't really want to believe it. I had a hard time convincing even Hermione and Ron. So you need to tone down your attitude, Snape, or the Ministry will find a reason to drag you to court and then Azkaban again." A glimmer of amusement showed in the boy's hard eyes. Severus was suddenly startled to realise that the boy before him seemed years older than the boy who had forced his way into his mind in the beginning of summer. "They're all against me now, but seeing me kneel to you already caused a lot of ripples. And there's already plenty of hatred for you. I saw some of the Slytheins glaring at you." He sighed, and then spoke less angrily. "I said what I meant before, sir. I don't want to fight. I wanted to offer to stay down here if you need to keep up appearances that you're not mistreating me and that we can get along together."

Severus nearly stared at the boy who confounded him at every turn. After all that had happened, was he still going on about helping Severus? Well, after this week, you won't even be thinking about anything of the sort, Severus thought, and was surprised by the pang it caused. It made him say stiffly, "Thank you for the offer, Potter, but I believe I can manage."

Potter looked crestfallen. Was he really that desperate for Severus' own company? That was alarming indeed. Severus thought thankfully of the notes on his worktable. This farce would come to an end very soon; and he would no longer be indebted to Harry Potter. Two excellent reasons to continue with his ridiculous plan.

"Do you…" Potter hesitated, "want to see my memories of her, when I was…you know?"

Dead? Severus' stomach lurched at the thought. "Indeed not."

"Oh," was the reply. "Well, that's an open offer too. I'll go back now." He stood, but Severus was quicker.

"Not so fast," he said, pulling the boy down and slipping his fingers under his conveniently loose collar to get at the brand. Potter shivered helplessly when he touched the magically sensitised area, losing the façade of a grown man for a split second.

"W-what are you doing?" Dear Merlin, the boy was trying the puppy dog eyes on him.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to order you to stay clear of my quarters unless I explicitly ask yo to come down here." The brand shone brightly golden, and Potter gave another involuntary shiver as the Bond forced him to acknowledge the order. He looked relived but angry when Severus removed his hand. "On a more pleasant note, Potter, I intend that we stay clear of each other at all times except in Potions class, to spare you the humiliation each time you see me in public."

Potter's surprise at that concession was definitely insulting, Severus thought. "I don't mind it, Professor," he said, too earnestly to be anything but sincere, "But as long as it keeps people form turning on you, yeah, I'll stay out of your way."

Severus had to fight not to stare, once again.

"Professor? You've still got your hand on my brand."

"Mm, yes. I noticed that you weren't eating in the Great Hall. You will kindly refrain from such carelessness, as I am drawing strength from you and the strain on your body is not to be taken lightly. You will look after your health. Am I understood, or do I have to recruit your overprotective friends to babysit you?"

The boy first glared and then looked confused, probably at the mixed signals he was getting. "Yes, sir." He shivered violently again, and blushed a deep red.

Good, Severus thought. It would have been much more difficult to get the boy's friends to cooperate. He thought of the way the trio had reacted when Severus had entered his classroom. Potter had been remarkably—disturbingly—well behaved throughout the class, but the boy's friends had glared at him as though he were Voldemort himself. It had been almost more distracting than his Slytherins' cold stares. Telling himself it was not concern he was showing but a desire to control the Potter, he finally let him go.

Although, he thought as Potter left, Draco Malfoy did not join his housemates. Some promise there, perhaps?

"Severus," said a voice from his fireplace, "may I come through?"

"If you must," Severus said with a sigh. He thought he heard Dumbledore chuckle as he stepped into the room.

"I see Harry was here," Dumbledore said. Did he think he was being subtle?

"Yes, he was, Dumbledore, and no, we did not fall into each other's arms and declare eternal love for the other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to get back to, as you very well know." He wouldn't normally dare to be so bold with the headmaster, but the events of the day (and week, and month, and year) were beginning to wear on him.

Dumbledore didn't look the slightest bit put off. "I had hoped that seeing the extent of Harry's regard for you might have changed your mind, Severus."

Severus gritted his teeth. He'd known this conversation was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. "I am making a huge sacrifice just to make him—" he almost choked on the word, "happy. Is that not enough?"

"It is wonderful indeed, my boy," Dumbledore said gently. "But whether or not that is enough…Severus, he needs you. You may not feel as you did during the summer, but can you not remember? What you learn about him? Do you not have memories of your time with him; memories of looking into his mind and seeing only love and affection for you, Severus?"

Severus held up a hand and was horrified to see that it was trembling. "Dumbledore, please," he whispered. I hate him. I still hate Potter, and that will never change, no matter how many memories I have. "Yes, those memories torment me—"

"Torment, Severus?" said Dumbledore. "I've seen your face as you look at Harry and remember, and it is not torment you feel."

"Stop!" Severus cried. "Whatever memories I have are tainted by the first Bond, and what I believed to be true at the time cannot be trusted, Dumbledore!" Please, can't you see that?

"Do you really think so, Severus? I think rather that your experiences of Harry before the Bond were tainted by your preconceptions. The Bond did not blind you; it opened your eyes."

Severus set his jaw and refused to speak. After a while, Dumbledore sighed.

"Well, one can but try," he said sorrowfully. "Good night, Severus."

Severus had reached the door when Dumbledore spoke again. "He still loves you, Severus, whether he knows it or not. I dearly hope you open your eyes enough to just see that."

A shiver went through Severus when he had shut the door behind him. He strode away from the Headmaster's office, fists clenched as the Headmaster's last words rang in his ears. I think I see just fine, Dumbledore; and I will do my best to fix this, worry not.

He had work to do before he met the werewolf.


A/N: So tell me what you thought of the story as a whole, as well as just this chapter. While we wait for me to finish the sequel (it's much shorter than this, I've got it all planned out, there's just the actual writing bit left), any ideas for one-shots related to this story? Any direction you wanted this story to go and didn't get to see? Send me your suggestions, and I'll do my best!

Here's the summary for the sequel (which, like this chapter, will be called 'What Binds Us Together'):

Sequel to The Master's Touch. Moved by a desperation he cannot understand, Snape brings Sirius back to life for Harry's sake, though both Snape and Harry believe reconciliation will never be possible between them now. Harry is a pariah in the Wizarding World and a slave…Again. Will Sirius get over his personal scruples to help bring them together? Are they even willing to try again? No slash, Severitus (by adoption) at the end of the tunnel—finally!

What do you think? I'll be putting up a sort of a teaser, too :)