CHAPTER 19

Harry hardly slept at all that night. He succumbed to a restless sleep towards dawn but woke up from a dream in which he saw Snape standing opposite him, simply looking at him without feeling on his face, without speaking; yet his black eyes seemed to tell him something.

I have built impenetrable walls around me in order to be utterly independent. Now watch me destroy myself, watch me suffocate in my self-imposed isolation.

Harry moved towards Snape and took his face in his hands.

Let me in, then! Why did you have to slam the door in my face and make me slam the door in your face in return? Let me in. Please give me a chance.

Their lips approached and-

Harry awoke with a start, snapping up into a sitting position.

"Great," he muttered, "really great."

His relationship with Snape resembled a roller coaster. Just when he thought that he was about to find a way to the man, he would be kicked out. But then, maybe that was why it had happened. Perhaps Snape had realised that the son of the man he had hated was different – good-natured, unspoiled and, though quick to anger, just as quick to forgive. And he had felt too uneasy at the prospect of Harry James Potter as a…friend.

Harry checked his clock on the nightstand. It was only five-thirty in the morning. The whole castle was probably still fast asleep. Except perhaps for Severus Snape, Dumbledore and the ghosts. And some of the house-elves.

Harry sighed and went to the bathroom to freshen up. The mirror began to cough underneath the layer of steam which formed as the hot drops ran over his body.

"Dear, I'm choking!" it wheezed when Harry stepped out, a towel around his waist.

"Sorry," Harry yawned.

He opened the window a little and dressed. The mirror was clear by then and he studied his face closely.

"You do have a right to be narcissistic," his mirror chuckled.

"Narcissistic? Come on, I've never given much thought about what I look like."

"Until now, dear."

Harry flushed.

"You could have anyone you want, sweetie, even many at the same time."

"But I want only someone. I want to be committed and faithful to one person."

"That someone is going to be a very lucky person," his mirror said happily.

With a laugh, Harry opened the window fully and went to the bedroom.

He stretched. He wanted to take a walk outside, enjoy the frosty fresh air. He would fly around on his broom later, too. He had done so now and then in the late evening, when he knew that he would be alone and unwatched, going for a little ride over the grounds and surrounding area. For now, he just wanted to get his energy flowing, get moving.

Munching a few sunflower seeds and stuffing a packet of them into his jeans pocket, he wondered whether everyone was indeed sleeping. He didn't wish to be interrupted during a morning stroll. He took out the Map, tapped it, spoke the necessary words and watched in silent fascination as all the corridors unfolded on it. They were empty – or so it seemed at first sight. Harry laughed softly when he noticed a dot labelled with the name of the Potions Master pacing around on the third floor. Where the piano-room was. As he watched, the dot finally seemed to make up its mind, vanishing – probably using one of the castle's various shortcuts and magical tapestries – to appear on the ground floor. It moved towards the main exit. Snape had evidently suffered from insomnia as well. Harry closed the Map and stood up. He would go out just the same. Go out and try to talk to the man – not accuse him or lose his temper with him. Harry wrapped his cloak around himself, warded his rooms and headed for the main entrance of the castle.

It was still dark outside, but he could see that Snape was indeed standing in the open, leaning against the gate. Like Harry, he was wearing a cloak to protect him from the cold. He turned.

"You," he said softly, noticing Harry.

Harry walked over to Snape slowly and leant against the gate as well.

"I couldn't sleep," he said.

"You were always one to stay awake at nights and doze in lessons," Snape remarked caustically.

"Morning grouch."

Snape showed no sign of offense.

"The sun will rise in forty-five minutes," he said. Harry was puzzled. It sounded like a completely irrelevant thing for Snape to say.

"Do you like watching the sun rise?" he asked

"Yes," the Slytherin answered gruffly. A frosty wind blew a strand of hair across his face, and he stroked it back impatiently with a slender hand.

"So…What do we do now, Severus?" he inquired.

Snape didn't look at him.

"What Dumbledore said. We shut down the Duelling Club and cancel the project."

"I don't want that to happen," Harry said. "I want it to continue. With you. I can't do this alone."

This time, Snape looked at him, then laughed quietly.

"I should have known that you wouldn't give up so easily."

"I can't. Not after the effort you and I have put into it. Are you willing to continue this project with me, Severus?"

Snape moved his eyes away from Harry, letting them drift around the surrounding landscape. Everything was shrouded in darkness, but there was something in the air which bespoke of the approaching sunrise – something like a thrill, or even a touch.

"I didn't know you had such a forgiving and submissive nature, Potter."

"Submissiveness and forgiveness are not synonyms at all, Severus. You know it. But I don't want to be in constant conflict with you. I have told you more than once why I want a truce with you. Or…as I said yesterday, something like friendship. I used to judge you. I try not to do so any longer. But you still judge me, and you don't even really know what I'm like, or who I really am."

Snape was silent for a few moments before saying:

"Give me time until the sun rises. Then I will reveal my answer to you. Till then, you may stay here, but please do not speak to me. I want quiet."

He sat down on the stair. Harry followed his movement, forgetting about strolling around. He took out the packet of sunflower seeds and held them out to Snape.

Snape gave him an incredulous stare.

"Before I am completely silent: let me assure you that they're not poisoned," Harry said with a small smile, "not to say that you wouldn't deserve being a bit poisoned after what you did yesterday."

"At least the witches can turn their attention elsewhere," Snape commented; however, he accepted a large handful of seeds. To Harry's surprise, and also delight, he did not shell them with a charm. Instead, he peeled them deftly with his tapering fingers, putting the empty husks next to him in a tidy pile. The minutes which followed were strange to Harry. There was no startling incident; but sitting on the stair next to Snape, eating sunflower seeds without a word, was odd enough. He could not help glancing from time to time at Snape, who seemed absorbed in listening to the nocturnal sounds around them. There was a rustle in a bush as a bird hopped out, followed by another. They stood still for a moment, their beady eyes flitting around. Then, all of a sudden, they took wing, climbing up into the sky. Somewhere far away, a robin started to sing. Harry began to understand the subtle charm of the early morning. He flushed when he realised that the charm was deepened by the presence of Snape so close to him. When they were finished with their sunflower seeds, Harry Vanished both their piles.

Soon, a tinge of timid colour appeared in the sky. The clouds became suffused with a dark-pink; the darkness and the hush of the night began to lift. A keen morning wind blew. Snape reached for his wand and passed it over his eyes and Harry's with a murmured incantation. In answer to Harry's questioning glance, he said:

"To minimise any potential risk of damaging your eyesight."

"Thank you, Severus."

They watched the sunrise. It was a sunrise out of goodness knows how many sunrises; nevertheless, it was special for Harry because of the whole situation. Because of Severus Snape's proximity. A morning mist hung over the brightening grounds. More birds were singing.

With another murmur, Snape repeated the gesture with his wand, removing the protective spell. The two wizards now gazed at each other for a long moment until Snape put his hand on Harry's eyes. Harry didn't move; he sat still, mesmerised. Snape's fingers gently moved Harry's cloak-collar aside, exposing his neck. He breathed upon the skin, and the tiny hairs on that spot trembled excitedly. With his knuckle, he nudged Harry's earring in a nearly playful manner. Harry almost forgot to breathe. Snape drew back, the collar sliding up again, his hand still covering Harry's eyes. Harry nearly jumped when he felt something soft and warm brush his autumn-cold lips lightly and swiftly; the world seemed to stop rotating when he instinctively realised that it was Snape's lips which had brushed against his. His heart raced; his body teemed with desire. A satiny whisper floated into his parted mouth:

"The answer is yes."

Snape removed his hand. Harry blinked and found himself captivated anew by the black eyes which met his.

"Breakfast must be ready," Snape informed him, his voice no longer low, but still maintaining that sensual quality.

Harry had expected Snape to stand up and go indoors without waiting for him, but he didn't. He only rose when Harry got up, his heart beating quickly. They went into the hall. There were only very few students – they were probably getting ready for Quidditch Practice. Of the staff, only Dumbledore was present. His eyes twinkled when he saw Snape and Harry walking towards him, who resumed their usual seats on either side of him.

"Good morning, my boys," he said cheerfully. The disappointment which had coated his voice during the meeting in his office was absent.

"Potter and I have decided to continue with the Duelling Club," Snape informed him without delay.

Harry added:

"The training of the students has priority over our personal conflicts, which we have resolved for the timebeing."

"Brilliant! I am delighted to hear this! Couldn't have wished for a better start of the day," Dumbledore beamed. Even his beard emanated bliss.

How is it that I am discovering my sexuality because of Snape, of all people? Harry thought disbelievingly as he helped himself to fried eggs and bacon. Dumbledore gave him a small smile which seemed strangely knowing, and Harry could not help blushing slightly.

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A/N: I was thinking of the "almost-kiss" between Louis and Armand in Neil Jordan's film Interview with the Vampire – a moment which has always fascinated me; and I decided to base the frequently volatile mood of this story on Tchaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet" besides on Roxette's "Crash Boom Bang". Hope you guys enjoyed the style of this chapter!

AND I wanted to thank your for your votes concerning the dominant/submissive issue. There was complete consensus among you: Harry should be submissive and Snape dominant :-D Well…let's see…I may follow this pattern…Or not.