Green Eyes, Grey Skies

by You're All So Vacant

REPOST. Voldemort has grown tired, and no longer cares that he may not be able to kill the boy himself. Severus Snape has been given a new mission. The seduction and murder of Harry Potter. Six year, slightly AU. R&R

2. Chapter 2

A/N- Thank you to: Crapounette, Deby Magid, DarkDreamer1982, Thatsallwegot, arisflame and hobesan for commenting (and the written outrage at story removal;)

Hobesan- They pulled it. Apparently, it was explicit above rating.

Thatsallwegot - The original is only on hpfandom, though I am trying to post at walkingtheplank.

Green Eyes- Extra Potions

Harry did not know why he'd kissed Snape. The very idea should have been appalling. Repulsive. The Gryffindor wasn't even sure why he was obsessing over it, replaying it as if it had somehow been significant. It wasn't like he had desired the man, and the gesture was not really of a romantic nature. In fact, it was pretty much identical to how he would comfort Hermione.

It showed that he cared a little for the man, but that, like with Hermione, could be platonic. And he was absolutely positive, that if the mirror hadn't suggested it, he wouldn't have done it.

He put the whole incident down to how happy Snape's reflection had seemed.

Which did not explain why it still bothered him so much. It had been two days. He hadn't worried that much over his reaction to Cho- after discussing it with Ron and Hermione, he'd almost immediately let it go. And that had been his first kiss. This wasn't even close to anything really.

The only solution he could think of would be to talk with his two friends, which he was not going to do. It seemed rather pathetic, going to them over something so ridiculous. So he didn't.

And, he was happy to note, when he went into potions, he saw nothing but the snarky, grumpy potions-master he always saw. He now knew that the man was a much better, and more self-sacrificing person than he ever would have guessed, but that was hardly at the front of his mind when beginning a Potions lesson.

Slightly more at ease, Harry genuinely attempted to make the healing potion that was the lesson's subject. It was even going well, until Harry heard a pop, a soft warning before his cauldron exploded violently, throwing a sickly green (though it was supposed to be golden coloured) substance over at least a quarter of the class.

The girls among them began squealing- with the exception of Hermione, who had grown used to it- and Harry lifted his head from the mess, intending to apologise, only to meet the eyes of the Slytherin teacher.

He loomed over the cauldron, though the effect was spoiled by the green streaks coating his hair, and all the rest of the class would see was the potions master, about to blow a gasket.

Harry, on the other hand, saw the amusement threatening to break through on the other man's face, and also noted that Malfoy had a perfect view of both their expressions.

So, he tried to mix both a sheepish, apologetic look with flirtatiousness, something that he didn't really think was ever going to work, and felt slightly proud at Snape's minuscule nod of approval.

Severus moved his left hand (the one not holding his wand), and Harry noted the small piece of parchment hidden behind his fingertips.

"Mr Potter, if your incompetent brain could handle following even the most basic of instructions, you would perhaps refrain from creating such disasters in my class. Congratulations. You now have detention every Thursday with me, until you can prove yourself able. Starting tonight. Is that understood?"

Harry smirked like usual, but made it appear warmer, a little friendlier, just for the benefit of Malfoy. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Severus waved his wand, cleaning the potion from himself, then Harry and the table.

He proceeded to turn around, to clean the rather vile potion from the other students.

As he did so, his left hand rested on the table behind, so that when he moved away, the paper was dropped in front of Harry.

Who opened it after sharing a look with Hermione- she had noticed, and was willing to pretend they were writing notes if need be.

I apologise, Harry, for the sabotaging of your potion. For once, it was not terrible. Not good, but not an abomination like Longbottom's. For your detention Which you will be doing, please come to my office straight after dinner. I have something to tell you. Also, make sure Malfoy sees you with the note, or the point of writing it will be gone.

Harry suppressed a grin. After years of Snape's exasperation at those who ruin potions, he intentionally did it himself. And if he hadn't told Harry, he wouldn't have noticed. The man apparently had hidden sabotaging skills.

For the rest of the lesson, Harry idly doodled on a scrap of parchment, drawing without really looking at the paper.

When they were dismissed, he looked at it properly, and immediately turned pink with embarrassment, shoving the parchment into his bag before he walked from the room, leaving Ron and Hermione to catch up with him.

0o0o0

Harry was there on time, but depressed to see a cauldron on Snape's desk, with all of the ingredients laid down beside it. He honestly hadn't thought he would have to do potions. After all, Severus had said that he needed to talk to him.

Severus noticed the glare that the Gryffindor was giving the cauldron, and held back a chuckle. "Yes, Potter, you will be doing the work."

"Harry, remember? And I never said I wouldn't."

"Maybe you didn't vocalise your opinion, but you clearly wished to blow the whole desk to smithereens. And I'm not making you do the assignment to be mean."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh really?"

Severus snorted. "Yes really. If you can make it correctly now, I can truthfully say that you've completed a piece of coursework."

"That was the graded class potion?" Snape hadn't told the class which potion would be marked, in order to make them concentrate properly in all lessons. Which would, in theory, make their exams go better.

"Yes it is, Harry. So make sure you do it right."

"Okay, then." The Gryffindor was surprised at help; it wasn't really characteristic behaviour from Severus, even if the potion was his fault. Harry walked over to the cauldron, and started picking out ingredients.

"So. You said you had something to tell me?"

"Yes, I did. But you have to make the potion first. Talking would inevitably lead to you doing no work."

"One step ahead of you." Severus, who had migrated to his favourite armchair, looked over his shoulder. Harry had already lit a fire, and was chopping mandrake roots awkwardly, always only narrowly avoiding cutting his thumb. He didn't even seem to notice the danger, his eyes glued to the roots, his tongue poking from between his pale pink lips in concentration. It was sweet, the amount of effort he was putting in, Severus mused.

He watched until the knife got so close to Harry's hand, that Severus had for a second, thought he'd hurt himself.

He had risen from his chair a little, but forced himself back into a proper sitting position, sighing.

"Try not to cut yourself."

"Haven't yet." Harry dumped the (surprisingly even) roots into the cauldron, then reached for the murtlap essence.

"Keyword being 'yet'." Severus drawled, watching with a critical eye as hippogriff feathers were being cut. He wanted to take the knife away from the boy, to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself, but that was far too stupid to actually do. It also wasn't practical.

Severus continued to observe as the teenager worked, though he didn't really take in what was happening with the potion. He was transfixed, drawn in by the expressions that crossed the young man's dace whilst he worked, and secretly enjoyed being able to watch when Harry did not notice him, and therefore did not monitor his expressions.

Severus was dwelling on how adorable it was when Harry pouted (and damn-right attractive, but he was doing admirably well ignoring that), when the Gryffindor needed some help, and asked the Slytherin a question. As deep in thought as he was, Severus did not hear, and Harry had to ask at least twice before Severus's brain finally noted the sound.

"Severus? How do I get the extract out of this pod?" In the lesson, there had been bowls out for them already, as he hadn't the patience to instruct a large group on how to do it.

Now though, Harry had to do it, and Severus's mind worked quickly, deciding to mix the lesson with the closeness that they needed (and he secretly wanted) to achieve.

He stood swiftly, and stalked over to where Harry was working. Once there though, he dropped the 'scary teacher' façade completely, and softly shuffled to stand half-behind the Gryffindor, manoeuvring his arms to curl around Harry's, and softly taking the boy's hands in his own.

This wasn't entirely due to his own selfishness, or their job. Looking through the different layers to find the right part of the pod was difficult to explain; the proximity was really just a happy side-affect. Honestly.

Once the essence was also in the cauldron, Severus absently began the stirring with one hand, the other moving from Harry's hand to his waist, and the Slytherin did not miss the boy's sharp intake of breath, he was even a little pleased by it.

The potion was almost complete, and Severus carried on stirring as Harry tore up the stem of a sprig of lavender to finish it off. Dropping it in, Harry took the stirring rod from Severus, and stirred it twice clockwise, then four times anti-clockwise.

"It's golden!" Harry breathed in shock. Severus chuckled lightly, and absently rubbed his hand across Harry's waist.

"Yes, well. It is supposed to be."

"And that's exactly why I'm shocked."

Severus took several samples, labelled the vials as 'Harry Potter, Gryffindor' and levitated them to a box in the corner of the room. Then, he picked up a tiny little bottle, and carefully used his wand to fill it.

This, he handed to Harry. "You should keep hold of that."

Harry frowned. Students were very rarely allowed samples of their potions. "Eh?"

"It's a painkiller you made, Potter. And, it should be taken straight after one has received the cruciatus curse. For once, you've made an effective, almost perfect potion. And you may need it."

"Thank you, Severus." Harry placed it in a secure pocket in his robes, then turned to face Severus, which only made him lean further into the man. Doing his best to suppress a blush, Harry bravely kept eye-contact.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Severus immediately appeared older, worn, and looked sadly at Harry. The Gryffindor had never seen him look so depressed, but until a week or so ago, he hadn't really considered the man to have a normal spectrum of emotion.

"Tomorrow." The one word held so much tension, worry.

"What is?" Harry asked, though he was almost positive of what the answer would be.

"The attacks. They are, somehow, expecting me to distract Dumbledore, so I'll be here, instead." Severus bent slightly, to Harry's level.

"Harry, I know you won't like it, and frankly, I don't care. You are to spend the entire day in the hospital wing. The last thing needed is your classes being interrupted by visions, which, likely, will not be pleasant."

"Fine." Harry mumbled, though it was very clear that he was trying his damned hardest not to argue.

Severus touched one hand to the side of his face, expression soft. "Good."

0o0o0-

Ron could not contain his laughter when Harry explained the necessity of his presence in the hospital wing for an entire, day and Harry couldn't really blame him. He himself thought the idea to be poorly over-dramatic, and as absurd as it sounded, even in his head, he thought Severus was being incredibly over-protective. That was a peculiar and rather confusing concept, and Harry really did not want to be treated as an invalid. But, to be honest, he had always dreaded having audiences to his visions, and, like most sixteen-year-old boys, would hardly say no to an ordered day off.

He also knew that the Slytherin would find a way to make him stay, should he attempt to resist.

Hermione, naturally, thought it to be a great idea, but she always seemed to have some opinion that Harry and Ron did not entirely agree with, and she reminded him that there was work to catch up on.

She did, however, agree to lie-for once- and say that Harry was a little ill, should anyone ask. Apparently, she thought it was really a half-truth – something bad was happening in his mind [well, likely would later] and he was in the hospital wing.

Harry was rather grateful for her sudden Slytherin-esque thinking, and hugged the girl, whilst Ron stared at her in surprise. As she had punched Malfoy in the face in third year, she clearly wasn't always as moralistic as she claimed to be (no, she wouldn't order around an elf, and yet she would punch a Slytherin), and Harry was not really as surprised as others would have been.

Not wanting to be sitting motionlessly for the entire day, Harry actually got some books off of Hermione in a bid to fight off boredom. Anything was better than just sitting there waiting.

Harry are nearly the same amount as Ron at breakfast, just to be doing something, as he had no need to cram in homework at the table, and knew he was unlikely to eat much with Madam Pomfrey ordering him around.

He left, completely full, a few minutes before everyone was due to leave for first lesson, which meant that he completely avoided the crowds, and arrived early at the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was in a good mood, probably because Harry wasn't actually injured, and cheerfully informed him that he would be spending the day in an armchair in her office. That was very much preferable to being forced to lie in bed all day, and Harry quickly got comfortable, curling his feet underneath him as he rooted through his book-bag.

The Gryffindor began reading Hogwarts: A History, as Hermione frequently stated that he should have years ago, and found it to be as terribly dull and lifeless as he had originally predicted it to be. The small, detailed text actually made him tired, so Harry returned the heavy volume to his bag, thinking that he was far less susceptible to the mind-link caused visions when he was fully awake. Well, that was the theory, anyway.

But not reading left him bored and restless. He had never been one for sitting doing nothing, at least he wasn't when he hadn't any friends with him to talk to. So he began pacing, walking randomly around the room, looking at the bright health posters and rare personal items belonging to Madam Pomfrey, including a framed photograph of a witch and wizard, a pair that both bore to much resemblance to the woman not to be her parents.

They both looked really happy, smiling at the camera and each other in turn, and hugging affectionately after some length of time. There was a gold lettered plaque underneath the photograph, which had the names of the couple, and confirmed Harry's assumption that they were her parents.

It also had several dates at the bottom. Four, in fact.

A commemoration plaque. For two skilled healers, who had been killed 'in battle' (Harry mentally replaced this with 'murdered by death-eaters') a little under seventeen years ago.

Saddened a little, Harry found his way back to his seat, and flicked through a book on Quidditch strategy.

This was a book he had read many times before, and, unfortunately, had the opposite problem of the history book. Before, he could not really focus on the new material, and had no real interest in it. This book, however, he knew whole passages of , word for word, and he needed very little concentration to go through it. This left his mind to slowly drift off, and the Gryffindor did not notice that, after a time, he was actually staring at the photograph, instead of the book.

The moment he realised, as if on cue, a burning sensation prickled through his head, originating from the lightning mark, giving off a small warning. He considered calling Pomfrey from where she was out on the ward, but quickly decided that to be pointless, as there was absolutely nothing she could do to help.

Instead, he closed his eyes, and tried to occlude, which only served to make he head hurt more. Groaning, Harry covered the scar with both hands and slumped against the chair, giving in. He did not immediately see anything, and Harry started to think that the vindictive bastard did that only for shits and giggles.

He sighed, then tried to pull himself up, only to fall, everything turning black and green, explosions ringing in his ears.

There was an odd moment of disorientation, one that Harry did not usually get, but quickly assumed that whoever he 'was' had just port-keyed or apparated; it was similar to the portkey to the Quidditch, and the one from the end of the tri-wizard tournament.
Once he sorted out the slightly wonky vision, he could see a few coils of what appeared to be snake on his shoulder, and came to the conclusion that he was Voldemort, who had the bloody evil creature that was supposed to be a snake sat across his shoulders. There were flashes and blurs left, right, and centre; the arrival of some of the death-eaters.
"My friends. Today, all is yours!" The Slytherin leader spread his arms wide for dramatic affect.
"Go, destroy them all, blood traitors and Muggles alike!"
The masked wizards immediately took off, in pairs or threes. Voldemort followed behind, laughing as his excited followers began trying to reap havoc on the town.
The seemed to have a routine or plan for attacking random people. for no-one stood around waiting, everyone just left to cover separate areas, and Voldemort seemed to mostly just want to watch. Harry could feel what the man felt, and was a little unnerved by his pride for his followers, and the genuine amusement and anticipation that built as he waited.
Harry held his breath as most of the cloaked figures reappeared, feeling Voldemort's irritation and hoping that the aurors and order members had driven them back. Sure enough, figures moved in to circle around the group, none wearing black, and all of them clearly had their wands drawn. He saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, as well as Tonks, near the front of the group, glaring fearlessly at the death-eaters.
One masked man turned around, and snarled at Harry's adoptive family." Blocked by blood traitors. This is ridiculous. Unacceptable." Sparks flew from his wand.
Voldemort laughed harshly. "I quite agree, Hockley." He waved one hand in order.
Hockley grinned sadistically, wand pointing at Arthur. He then rapidly changed it to point at Molly, at exactly the same second as he yelled 'Crucio!' Arthur, having guessed what was going to happen, erected a strong shield around his wife, just before the curse hit. There was a blue light from the collision of the two spells, and then the unforgivable fizzled harmlessly away.

Hockley tried again, and this time aimed at Tonks, and failed once more as she was pulled out of the way by a blonde wizard in his late twenties. Hockley swore viciously, and started sending out random curse.

Other, rather infuriated death-eaters joined in, sending them all in different directions.

At this one site (out of the two to be attacked), there were about twenty death-eaters with Voldemort, only one or two of them being notoriously powerful, against thirty or so aurors and order members, who had an advantage in position, and drew ever closer to clump the bad guys together. One noticed this, and tried to dart out of the main ring, only to get stunned, then dragged to the ministry by Arthur, and an excited Molly clapped he hands together very briefly before going straight back to glaring at the group.

The aurors were clearly winning -not that it was an epic battle anyway-, not because they had superior magic or skills, but because they had planned better, had a better position, higher numbers, and helped each other, unlike the trapped death-eaters who only fought for themselves. Voldemort realised this, and hissed in a way that was almost like a child's tantrum. He began sending curses as well, and was only marginally more successful than his followers.

One was hit directly with a strong cutting curse straight to the throat, but that was the only death that Harry had seen. None of the aurors were aiming to kill, and the death-eaters weren't moving much. Someone was going to have to give in.

Voldemort's fury grew to an intense level, but before he did anything else, a blur announced the arrival of Lucius and Bellatrix, one on each side of Voldemort, and both turned to face him with fearful and apologetic expressions.

"I'm so sorry, My Lord." Bellatrix bowed her head in a symbol of subordination.

"Yes, we are sorry, my Lord. They...knew. There was a group of Dumbledore's fools waiting. We made everyone pull back." Lucius looked around.

"They knew about here too?"

Voldemort frowned at Lucius- Harry could feel the twist of his facial features every time the man's expression shifted. "Obviously, you idiot."

With a swirl of his cape, Voldemort apparated, and everything went black. When Harry opened his eyes again, he was back in Madam Pomfrey's office, and the healer was watching him with concerned eyes.

"Harry?" She prompted, when a minute had passed and he still hadn't said anything. The Gryffindor blinked rapidly, frowning. He sorted everything in his head, then broke out into a wide grin. There was, after all, only one casualty from their side, and he did not care for the captured death-eater; he was not one for sympathising with the enemy.

"We won. From what I could see, only one auror was killed, no-one else. They retreated. At the other place, they retreated, but I don't know if anyone's dead."

Pomfrey smiled too, relieved, and stepped back a little. Rubbing her hands across her robes, she gave the boy a cursory look.

"Do you need anything? Any pain-potions? Have you a headache at all?" Harry shook his head rather rapidly, which made him feel dizzy, but he ignored it.

"No, I'm absolutely fine, thanks." He kept a reassuring smile fixed in place. Then wondered as to why she was in here- the woman had been working before.

"Did I shout or something?" He was slightly worried that a load of her patients had heard him shouting unforgivable curses. That was leave people properly afraid for months at the least.

"No, Harry. You were strangely silent. I just came back in here- I've only got the three patients staying at the moment, and two of them are asleep. I actually would have thought you to be asleep too, had you not been sat so awkwardly, with your hands on your head."

Harry laughed a little oddly. He didn't really know how to respond to that. Then an idea struck, so suddenly that he almost expected a light bulb to appear above his head.

"Hey, since it's all over with now, can I go back to the Gryffindor common room?" His voice was hopeful, but the woman simply laughed, the hard edge to it telling Harry that he had no chance.

"Not going to happen, young man. You would just leave here, and then get yourself into another pickle. You are staying here until Dinner this evening."

Harry gulped and nodded. That woman was really not one to argue with.

0o0o0

In the end, Harry turned out incredibly grateful that she had made him stay. He was completely and utterly bored until about 4:30, when classes were already over. This time, he got absolutely no warning before he was thrown into a vision.
Again, he was Voldemort, and this time, it was very easy to tell. There were only two people in a dank, grubby, stone dungeon room, one of them being Severus Snape, who was on his knees in front of him, bent into a bow. Severus would only force himself to bow to one person, so it was obvious that he was Voldemort.
"You called, My Lord." Severus rose back onto his feet, expression guarded. Voldemort nodded slowly.
"That I did, Severus. Do you know why?" His fingers folded around his wand.
"No, My Lord." Not even a twitch, though that just made it all the more obvious that he did know.
"The attacks today, both of them failed. They knew, and surrounded. Both groups. The one with me and Bellatrix and Lucius's group. They were so well prepared, we were like sheep chased into a pen. That is unacceptable." He exhaled loudly.
"Avery was captured. You do know what that means, don't you Severus?" That tone was silky, dangerous. Severus moved one foot back, as if to walk away, then forced himself back in place.
"You...gave them a dead end." His wording was careful, as if the wrong phrasing could cause a major attack from the temperamental man.
"Yes. I had to kill one of our own, Severus. Sending the power through his mark took much of my strength. It will take weeks before I can even plan another attack, and we're now short one of the inner circle. This is a major loss."
"Indeed, My Lord." Severus was finally beginning to look wary, as if he knew where this was going. As he had 'worked' with the dark lord for years, he probably did.
"This is your fault, Severus. That's the only way they could have known. You're their snitch. I know it as well as you do. But your job is to put them off, give them false hopes. You have failed. Crucio!"
Harry felt the vindictive pleasure as he watched the man fall in agony, knees hitting the floor hard before he fell to his side. The small part that was still him was proud that he did not make a sound. That was quite an achievement.
Eventually, he stopped the curse.
"I don't want you brain damaged, Severus. But if you keep slipping up..."
Severus quickly righted himself, and looked at the floor. "I am sorry, My Lord. But this was entirely...necessary."
"Necessary? How was that necessary? Do enlighten me, Severus."

"The boy. He seems to still be connected to you in some way. Apparently, he saw some of your planning. As my current assignment has induced at least a small amount of trust, and I was available at the time, so he went to talk to me about it. It would have been terrible for me not to tell Dumbledore for he would have eventually found out that I was withholding information."

"That is true, Severus. As always, you have a brilliantly thought-out excuse. You can leave, I suppose."

Severus stumbled as he slowly stepped away. It was clear that it had taken all of his effort to even stay standing. Voldemort was satisfied that the man was sufficiently injured, and simply watched his progress as he left.

The second Harry came to, he stood up, nearly fell back down, and ran from the office. He found madam Pomfrey at record speed, and then flapped his arms around uselessly as he caught his breath.

"He used the cruciatus on him. Severus. Uh, Professor Snape, I mean." She looked worried, but quickly dismissed the name sip-up.

"It's okay, Harry. Myself and Minerva have been informed, as was deemed necessary by professor Dumbledore." She exhaled in deep irritation.

"Unless he voluntarily comes in here, I cannot help him."

Harry caught on quickly. "He never does come here, does he?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. I found him on the grounds once, not in even remotely good health. I asked if he needed any help. He simply told me to go away- he could do it himself fine, he always did. He wouldn't go to the hospital wing even for medicine, though I supposed that that was because he brews his own. I felt so sad that he hated to accept help, even from a healer. In the end, I only got to cast a diagnostic spell; he wouldn't even let me get him to his rooms."

"Why didn't he just floo? Surely that would be easier."

"Every place hat Voldemort meets his followers is really hidden. I'm willing to bet that there isn't ever a floo available.

"Shite. You mean that he's probably outside right now?" Harry was concerned, there was no denying it. He was 80% positive that Severus was one of the good guys, and he didn't think it right to let the man always deal with that horrible curse on his own.

Though Madame Pomfrey had made it clear that it was difficult to help Snape, and the Slytherin probably wouldn't allow Harry to do anything, he was still sprinting as fast as he could from the hospital wing, shouting a rushed 'thank you' to Madam Pomfrey over his shoulder.

He left the main school, and stood out at the front to look all around for any sign of the man. It was very easy for Harry to recognise the swirl of black robes surrounding a hunched over, staggering figure.

Severus was very slowly inching towards the main gate, which, from the outside, could only be undone by a complex series of spells.

From the inside, one simply had to unlock the gates.

Harry rushed to open them, and Severus did not notice him until the creak of the gates opening made him look up in a slight puzzlement, then frown sourly when he recognised the boy.

In the vision, Harry had only seen the cruciatus curse, but that clearly wasn't the only injury that he had gained. The long, black robes appeared to be glued to his leg, and even though the material blocked the colour there was a small tear in it that clearly showed blood.

"Severus?" He asked uncertainly, not wanting to annoy Severus when he probably already felt like shit. The injured man regarded him wearily, limbs shaking.

"Yes, Harry?" He rubbed one hand across his face, pushing his hair out of the way. Harry's eyes followed the twitchy, nervous movement, and he frowned; if Severus was used to this, why didn't he have the correct potions to hand?

"Are you okay? Why haven't you taken anything? You said it was a good idea to have that anti-cruciatus stuff and all." Harry realised that his gaze was flickering between the man's pale face and injured leg, and so dropped his gaze to the ground.

"No, I'm obviously not okay. Who would be? And I can't take any potions in those bloody robes to act against it- the dark lord would either think of some other punishment, or would use some of my potions for his own purposes, which makes it far more trouble than it's worth." Severus glared and Harry shrank back a little. He knew the Slytherin was simply kicking up a fuss in an attempt to get Harry to leave. Angrily stating that 'you're not okay' actually is one of the best ways to get rid of people easily, because it's awkward and they don't know how to respond. He also thought that Snape was more than a little paranoid over the potions, but he couldn't really blame him.

The whole thing, however, had reminded the Gryffindor of the potion in his pocket, and he quickly dug it out, offering the small container to the person beside him. Who just stared at it until Harry moved it even closer to him.

"You did say that it was needed for things like this."

Severus nodded, and took it from Harry, fumbling slightly before he got a proper grip on it.

"Thank you, Harry." He mumbled, unused to really having to thank anyone. He reached to pull the stopper, and failed, his hand slipping. Harry automatically moved a hand to help, but Severus glared stubbornly, and tried again. This time was successful, and he swallowed the golden liquid in one gulp.

The effect was very nearly immediate, and the shaking stopped quickly, and the crease in his forehead smoothed out a bit as he relaxed slightly. Once calm, he put the now empty container into his own pocket.

"I'll refill that for you, Harry." The Gryffindor nodded, noting the changes that made the man seem better, healthier. He seemed fine, except for the fact that he still stood at an odd angle, resting most of his weight on his uninjured leg.

"What did you do to your leg? I mean, I didn't see anything happen to it." Severus's head shot up, then he mouthed the word 'vision' to himself, and shuttered his eyes closed.

"Great. You saw all of that." He took a deep breath, exhaled, then opened his eyes, a glint of self-loathing refracting through them.

"I splinched it. Only a little late. I apparated as soon as I was past the anti-apparation charms that surrounded the building. I either wasn't properly across it, or my magic was too messed up to do it properly. It could have been a lot worse." Harry frowned. He did not see how he could be so nonchalant about it. His expression and voice was the same as it would have been in any ordinary conversation.

"Okay, Severus. I think you might need Madam Pomfrey to take a look at that."

Severus glared, then cast his gaze to his leg, and sighed.

"I suppose so. I don't have any dittany left." Harry nodded, and slowly stepped forward, making sure he wasn't going too fast.

The Slytherin noted the conscious effort, and walked as fast as could without stumbling. A rumble of noise informed them both of the hordes of crowds making their way to dinner. That was not ideal, and Harry quickly thought of alternatives, knowing that Severus would hate for everyone to see him so weak.

He veered around the side of the building, planning on sneaking in through one of the passages or other doors, and Severus followed him without question. After all, the boy was a genius at sneaking around. He found a stone statue of a Hippogriff, and levitated it out of the way, which revealed a tunnel.

He motioned for Severus to go first, and he did, but with difficulty. It was rather difficult to climb into the space whilst injured, but the potions-master once again refused Harry's assistance, and had to rest his weight on one hand to move into the tunnel.

Once there, he could walk normally, and stood fine whilst Harry did the the difficult job of levitating the statue over the top of them. It landed with a heavy thud, and left them in complete darkness until Harry and Severus both cast 'Lumos'.

The tunnel was rocky, and it was easy to trip even with the light from their wands. After the third time that Harry literally had to catch Severus, the older man finally accepted his arm, and gripped it surprisingly tightly as they felt their way through.

The tunnel was not long, but they were slow, and the way was difficult. Both were immensely pleased when they finally reached a door at the end; the door that opened to a cupboard two hallways from the hospital wing.

"Great, this is brilliant. The chance that students will see the two of us leaving a very…cosy cupboard together, they would obviously talk. I'd be giving detentions for months."

Harry snorted. "Oh, get over it. It's not like we're going to get any trouble, Dumbledore knows what's going on."

He still peeked around the door first, and found the area to be empty, as would be expected at dinner time.

On solid ground, Severus decided that he no longer needed any help, and let go of Harry's arm, though he still walked very close to him, their arms brushing every now and then.

- Madam Pomfrey looked up in astonishment when the doors clattered open, genuinely amazed that the Slytherin teacher had voluntarily come to see her. She wasn't even remotely surprised that Harry was by his side, carefully watching his progress.

She directed them to the nearest bed, and noted that he did not show any signals of the cruciatus curse, though he limped something dreadful.

He noticed her observing, and mumbled; "Harry gave me potion already." She nodded, and scribbled on her clip-board. Then she moved his robes out of the way to see his leg, and tutted loudly. "It looks like you've splinched it."

"I did." She moved to one of the shelves behind him, cast a few spells to make sure that he wouldn't get an infection, and handed over a small bottle of dittany.

"Easily solved, Severus." He did not comment, but watched as his leg knitted itself together properly.

Once finished, he wasted no time, immediately testing it out. It was plenty sore, and definitely weak, but Severus decided it was time to go.

Poppy noted the way that his eyes drifted to the door, and shook her head.

"You are staying overnight, Severus, same as anyone else would have to."

Severus glared grumpily, but did not bother arguing. He sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled his shoes off, silently agreeing.

"Sweet dreams, Professor." Harry grinned cheekily, then left the room before he could respond.

Green Eyes- Halloween

It wasn't until Madam Pomfrey handed him a Pumpkin shape lollipop as she dismissed him, that Severus realised that it was Halloween. It was too early in the day for 'scary' decorations, and the ghosts were mostly banned from the hospital wing, so sweets were Poppy preferred way of showing festivity, with different ones for every occasion.

He accepted the sweet with a muttered 'thanks', and then headed back to his rooms, deciding to eat breakfast there instead of in the great hall, which would undoubtedly be decorated appallingly, and would obviously be filled with very excitable teenagers trying to trick one another.

He called for a house elf, who was more than happy to do extra work, and who also set a blazing fire in the fireplace to warm up the freezing dungeons before popping off.

Severus, who had always been easily transfixed by the jumping and dancing flames, watched contentedly, and was so concentrated upon them that he paid little attention to the elf, and thanked him when a tray was placed into his hands, which caused the creature to start crying loudly. He didn't bother saying anything else, and the elf quickly left, leaving him to eat breakfast in peace.

He had eaten two slices of toast, a blueberry muffin (he was rather fond of that particular Muggle food), and half a plate of fruit arranged into a screaming face before he set the tray down, and reached for the orange lolly. Severus had always been fond of sweets, and though it was rather early, and he had literally just finished his breakfast, he felt like he deserved the sugar. He absolutely detested Halloween, and would clearly have to put up with it all day, and for much of the night.

He was quite merrily sucking on the orange candy when somebody rapped on the door. Da,da,,da…da,da. It was cheerful, and annoying, and so Severus immediately assumed it to be Albus.

"Enter." He called, as best he could without removing the sweet, but he did not even look at the door, his eyes still fixed upon the reds, oranges and yellows of the fire. Because of this, he was more than a little surprised when the door shut behind his visitor, and the person began talking.

"Good morning Severus." He turned his head fractionally to the side, so he could see Harry walking towards him, looking tired, with his hair tousled and uniform amazingly askew. His lips were darker than usual, and rather swollen, and whilst Severus would not usually consider the mess he was in to be a bad thing (at least for him, anyway), Harry looked genuinely frightened.

"Good morning, Harry. What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Severus let his eyes rake obviously over the Gryffindor's dishevelled form, and noted slightly cheerfully that he blushed a deep pink. Interesting. He filed that little bit of information away to consider later.

"Love potion. Already. Valentine's day , it makes some small degree of sense, even if it is pointless, annoying and makes me feel like cursing everyone. But Halloween? I swear, in this school, any holiday gets turned into paw-over-Harry day."

Severus would have made some comment about arrogance, and how everyone loves Potter, but Harry's rant had 'bitter and angry' written all over it.

Severus snorted. He still accepted foods or drinks from the girls?

"If you fell for it, you deserve it."

Harry shook his head. "This year I didn't. I was eating breakfast, turned to speak to Luna, then drank some of my pumpkin juice, and the next thing I know, I'm making out with a third year Hufflepuff girl. Luckily, Hermione knows I would never do that with my mind functioning properly, and she went and got me an antidote. I left her and the girl arguing over morals in the hall."

He noticed that whilst Harry was ranting in an irritated fashion, his mouth was working on its own, as the Gryffindor's eyes were lost halfway through, staring at Severus's mouth as he sucked on the candy. His eyes were darkened only slightly, but Severus supressed a smirk.

Nice to know that the boy wasn't entirely immune to him. And he hadn't even been doing anything intentionally. Until he noticed Harry's reaction. He pulled the lolly from his mouth with a 'pop' then swiped his tongue over it before returning to sucking it. Not overdone, he could easily claim it to be nothing at all.

"So, if Miss Granger gave you the antidote, the annoyance of teenage girls is not the reason that you are here."

"Duh." Harry muttered under his breath. "I need a favour."

Severus raised an eyebrow, and then smirked, just because he figured that Harry's blush was fading too fast.

"Oh really? And what do you need?"

"I need you to put me in detention between seven and eleven this evening." He stated bluntly, and Severus's smirk dropped.

"And why exactly are you avoiding the Halloween party?" He was genuinely curious. He thought Weasley, Granger, and Potter would all like dressing up in ridiculous costumes and eating too much.

"Because I don't like it. I don't want to be there, but unless I have detention, Ron will force me to go." He looked miserable, and Severus sighed. This boy, the so popular saviour, seemed to hate any publicity, social gatherings, everything. For what he was, he appeared amazingly reclusive.

"So, what's your major problem with it? Just stick with your friends; I don't think it will kill you."

"Oh come on, Severus. I hate dressing up, I bet I'll be forced to dance at least three or four times when Ron and Hermione can't save me. Everyone will be speculating about the bloody shrieking shack, when we both know the only thing that's ever there is Remus. The bloody Slytherins –no offence- will pretend to be dementors. And someone will try getting me to make up shite about Voldemort, as if I know anything that they don't already know. So, what part of the bloody Halloween thing is actually good?"

He had a point, and Severus felt slightly sorry for the Gryffindor, though he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't help you. Albus decided that I have to be there to keep everyone slightly sober and all alive. Also, I set detentions to get out of it last year, so he made up a new rule this year. 'All detentions are to be set for after the night of the Halloween party'." He mimicked.

"So I have to be there, and I don't want to any more than you do- believe me- but we have no way out."

"Great. Thanks a lot, Dumbledore." Harry grumbled. Severus secretly agreed with him, but knew he couldn't really insult the headmaster in front of a student.

"You'll have to suffer through it Harry, as will I."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "What are you going as?" He inquired.

Severus, who had finally finished the pumpkin sweet, threw the stick in the fire. It crackled, then the rubbish plastic bit began to melt. "Um, Dracula. The Muggle-"

"Vampire, yeah." Harry finished. Severus was surprised. Classic literature didn't seem like Harry's thing in either world.

"Anyway, I'm going to colour my hair blonde, and hope everyone stays out of my way."

"Good, then I can find you if I need to hide." Harry grinned, the bounded out of the room, before Severus could ask what he was going as.

*0o0o0*

"Hermione, why is it that you're allowed to be in the guy's dorm when we're getting dressed? We can't get into the girls dorm ever. It's hardly fair." Harry fake whined. To be perfectly honest, he didn't care less, he just always said it, like he had since the first Halloween in first year. (Then, they had gotten dressed in the toilet, and then Hermione put the finishing touches to their costumes. Now, they didn't even care enough to do that.)

Ron was currently out in the hallway, having a long discussion with Seamus about Merlin knows what. It appeared that though he loved his girlfriend, he still would not trust her to put a costume on him until he saw Harry's.

"Because, Harry dear, we're the only three in here. You're gay, I've seen Ron naked before, and none of the other guys are bothered if I hang out here. The girls would have a silly, squeal-y, pathetic fake tantrum, just to kick up a fuss." She stated calmly, then tapped Harry's hip.

"Turn around." He waggled his eyebrows, but did as she asked, trying not to move as she used her wand to secure the tail to tight black furry trousers.

"Why do I have to be a cat?" He asked, seriously regretting allowing Hermione to make his costume. Every year, he didn't care enough to do it himself, then regretted it when he saw what she'd done. Last year, he was 'the hulk', which seemed to comprise of glowing green skin, no t-shirt, and pathetically tight shorts.

Which made him half-naked, and extremely noticeable.

"You're a cat because it's Halloween, and you know Muggles have a few silly superstitions about black cats and green eyes. And witches are supposed at all own them, so I thought it was both appropriate and funny."

He couldn't help but smile at her, despite his own foul mood. Hermione loved Halloween, so long as no-one dressed up as a troll. That unnerved all three of them, though the actually event had happened five years ago.

"Okay, 'Mione. Can you get the make-up done quickly?" He nodded, and set about painting his nose black, drawing on whiskers in eyeliner, and, finally, putting the eyeliner on his eyes in thin rings. She handed him a headband with attached cat ears, then smiled proudly.

"Finished, Harry. Ron, I need to start on you now." She called to the redhead, who was to be dressed as the giant squid. It was a large costume, and Harry had half hoped to get that one, just so he had an excuse not to dance.

Ron came back in, looking sulky, then supressed a laugh when he saw Harry. That was not even close to comforting.

But, no such luck. And harry was amazingly grateful he didn't have to wear it when he actually saw the finished product. Ron's face was hidden by a lilac mask with two eyeholes, his hair was dyed the same colour as the mask, and he had tentacles protruding from the rest of his body. It was bloody awful.

Even though she had built the costumes around the two guys who had started the process by standing just in their underwear, Hermione ducked into the bathroom to get into her own costume, and emerged from it dressed as a banshee. The black dress was pretty, and would have been okay to wear normally (though it was definitely not classy) had she not painted her face to create the proper banshee look . Her hair was a mess even by Hermione standards, and when she smiled at them, her usual grin looked amazingly feral.

She looked at both of them once more, than withdraw her wand from one of the pockets in her dress.

"One last thing, you two. Stand still."

They shared a worried glance, but did as they were told, and Harry soon felt fabric brushing against his thigh slowly, almost sensually. It was rather disconcerting, and he twisted around to catch a glimpse of the cat tail swaying around, in proper cat style.

Hermione clearly wasn't going to leave anything out.

He looked back at Ron, and was once again thankful that he wasn't the squid. It was slightly easy to tell which limbs were Ron's original ones now, for they were the only ones not moving.

He looked horrified, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Ready?" Both boys nodded at the banshee-Hermione, and she moved between them to carefully link her arms with one each of the boy's. (Though she did have to make sure that she had the right one of Ron's.)

-*0o0o0*

As Harry predicted, there were swirling colours much like a disco ball, too loud music, and a hall jam packed with people. And that was what he could tell just by standing at the door. He was sorely tempted to head straight back to Gryffindor, but Hermione steered him forward, glaring slightly at his token resistance. It was more crowded than he had originally assumed, and after only a handful of steps into the room, Harry was immensely grateful for Hermione's grip on his arm; without it, he could easily have lost his friends amongst the costumed students.

Always the one with the brain, Hermione dragged the two boys to a corner, away from the side of the hall with the food, and partially hidden by a life-size fake werewolf, it was the perfect place to stand, until they worked out what to do.

It was far too early for any couples to have migrated there, and so the corner was entirely empty, for which they were grateful, as there had been large amounts of effort in getting there to begin with.

"So, plan for the evening?" Hermione asked, and Harry vaguely wondered as to whether she had a quill and parchment hidden somewhere. He wouldn't have been surprised.

"Food." Ron answered immediately. Then he frowned, very obviously though they couldn't really see his face. "Hermione, how am I meant to eat wearing this?"

She sighed, but pulled on his tentacles, which turned out to be gloves slipped over sleeves- easy to remove. She handed the material back to him.

"Now you just need to keep you mask off while you eat, and you're fine."

Ron pulled the mask off, grinning.

"You're an absolute lifesaver, Hermione."

She smiled proudly, then turned to Harry. "So, cat-boy, what about you?"

Harry was more than happy to follow Ron's example; he would do anything to avoid dancing.

"I think I'll go with food, too."

Nodding simultaneously, they started to move across to the other side of the hall, having to push past many people who clearly didn't realise that they were trying to get through. Halfway across the large space, Harry found himself pulled to a stop, and only just refrained from shouting out when he turned to see a fairy holding onto him.

The girl was taller than him, and muscular, and too be honest, he found her appearance more than a little threatening. Despite the fact that she was wearing a very short lime green dress and a ghastly amount of horrendous make-up in a dreadful attempt at being Tinkerbelle.

"Care for a dance, Harry?" He tried not to shudder, and didn't succeed, but the girl didn't notice anyway, she was so concerned with batting her eyelashes in a way that made Harry want to enquire as to if she had anything in her eye.

"No, thank you. I'm not really dancing at the moment. Perhaps later?" She nodded enthusiastically, and he fervently hoped that he would not come across her again.

He had two more proposition from equally awfully dressed girls before he found himself at the tables. Picking up a paper plate (that he was very nearly positive that Dumbledore had ordered from a Muggle celebrations store), he quickly filled it with a mixture of mini-sausage-rolls and liquorice wands, before adding several Halloween cupcakes to balance his plate. Healthy food, festive food, and random sweets. He thought he did it quite well.

Munching food from the overflowing plate, he chose to edge along the wall until he found a space, rather than braving the crowds once more.

He eventually found a chair, conveniently placed rather close to where he had been before, and sank into it, careful not to crush the charmed tail as he perched on the edge to eat.

He had finished all of the sausage rolls before he scanned the room, looking out for people he knew. Ron had somehow ended up 'dancing' –he was swaying from foot to foot whilst some girl two years younger than him danced suggestively in a blatant sexual display- with a fourth year Ravenclaw, and Hermione was locked in a discussion with a seventh year Gryffindor that Harry had met once or twice, and knew to be an alright guy.

He smiled when he saw Luna showing a nervous Neville how to dance, and frowned at the sight of Pansy slobbering over Draco Malfoy, until he saw the boy's grump expression. Then he felt like laughing. Malfoy deserved nothing other than the clingy bitch. In his opinion, anyway.

He scanned across the crowd once more, and a movement caught his eye; there was a figure lurking in the opposite corner.

Squinting, he could tell that the man was blond, and remembered Snape's description from earlier. He was reclusive, hiding, and leaning against a wall. Harry would bet almost anything that the man was Severus; no-one else could achieve that pose.

Dragging his plate of sweets with him, he made his way over quietly, creeping across the wall again.

As he edged closer, he got a proper view of the Slytherin; though it was dark, he could still make out the bored expression upon his face.

His newly blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and secured with a black ribbon. He wore a thin white shirt, black trousers and a long black coat.

The clothes, and even the hair, suited him. The make-up, not so much.

"Hey, Severus." Harry spoke quietly, and could barely be heard over the cacophony that was the appalling music. Severus heard him though, and turned his head to look at his Gryffindor companion.

"Hello, Harry." Outwardly, Severus still appeared bored, but that wasn't maintained without a massive amount of effort. He figured it should be a sin for the boy to go around dressed like that.

The cat costume was very tight, the ears were adorable, the eyeliner made his usually large green eyes massive and bright, and he had a very strong urge to kiss his black-painted nose. He refrained, but only just.

He was still pretty much under control, until he caught sight of the tail. Then, his mask slipped off, comically quickly.

Unbidden, several images came to mind, not one of them innocent. Including one of him sat on the floor, with Harry predatorily loping around him, the tail softly brushing across the side of Severus's face when he executed a turn.

He definitely didn't have a thing for animals, and he didn't really know why Harry was so attractive dressed like that, but he couldn't help the hot spark that shot straight to his groin.

The only small mercy was that he managed to shake himself out of it rather quickly, and what he had thought hadn't quite been enough to make him hard.

Not far from it though, and his eyes darkened to black before he swallowed, with difficulty. Then, in an attempt to act normal, he tried to find a small smile for the boy grinning up at him.

This showed the fangs that he had used a potion to grow, and Harry gasped.

"You really went all out, Severus. Those fangs are freaky."

Severus smirked. "The first years have the vampire rumour going around again; I though this might genuinely scare them."

"Obviously. It's Halloween, and you have to go and frighten the first years. You don't want to scare them too much though. They'll end up ruining their potions because of the shakes. This could just be counter-productive."

"You could be right, but they still wouldn't be as bad as your group."

"Hey, don't be mean. Hermione's good at it, so we're not all bad."

"True, I suppose."

Harry held out the plate. "Liquorice wand?"

Severus smiled and took one. "Thanks."

"No prob." Eating sweets, they looked out at the crowds again. Until Harry quickly ran around him in an attempt to hide.

"Help, I can see Hermione!" He whispered urgently, though there was hardly any need to whisper with the music blaring. He tried to move Severus forward so he could stand behind him, and the Slytherin allowed the boy to do so, amused.

"And why are you hiding from her?" He asked softly, feeling the boy's hands balled up against his back. He was warm, and the childish behaviour was rather cute.

Harry was joking around with him. This hit Severus with full force, that Harry acted like they were friends, like they were close.

Any closer, and he figured he would be lost.

"Because, I would bet ten galleons that she is going to make me dance."

"Oh." Severus hated dancing, but he wasn't about to save him. It could be entertaining. "Sucks to be you, then."

"Helpful, Severus. Thanks a lot."

"Harry? I know you're there!" Hermione stood in front of them, hands on hips.

Severus laughed at his scared expression, and gently pushed the boy towards her. "Have fun!"

Grey Skies - Mundungus Fletcher

Nothing of consequence happened following Halloween, not really. The boy blushed far more often and more easily in their meetings, though that caused nothing, for whilst the image was imprinted in Severus's mind afterwards, he was not going to tip the balance. He was well aware that no matter how much Harry might behave in a way that suggested that he had feelings for the man, their situation was precarious, and should Severus do anything to tip the scales, he could easily become scared that Severus genuinely was a bad man; there only to kill him.

And Severus would much rather he acted sweet and friendly; he was not going to risk what was already between them.

That didn't mean he did absolutely nothing though. Anything that Harry had already deemed to be acceptable contact (except for the kiss), Severus would do as much of as possible. They completed a few more potions together, and Severus, after a while, decided to 'help' him with everything from extracting ingredients to chopping then- this was partly for Harry's own safety, as Severus marvelled once or twice at how Harry hadn't yet lost a hand.

They also sat together much like how he had originally forced the Gryffindor to, to discuss spells or potions, and very occasionally the 'lighter' topics of what each had done that day. It was strangely domestic, but neither commented; either they didn't notice, didn't understand (for neither of them were good or practised at holding a relationship, and possibly didn't think it anything like an evening for a regular couple), or they didn't care.

The last weekend before Christmas, however, Severus decided to go to Hogsmede. He was to be at the Burrow for Christmas (Molly tried to mother him, as if he needed looking after), and decided it would be polite to bring a gift along with him.

He also had to find someone in Hogsmede, to give out a little warning.

So Severus donned a heavy cloak, and trudged over to Hogsmede, enjoying the snowy surroundings as he had decided it was too short a walk for it really to be worth apparating. He wasn't lazy.

He arrived there before at least half of the students were even out of bed, and found the place to be comfortably busy rather than jam-packed; the majority of Christmas shoppers would be in Diagon Alley instead.

He glanced at The Three Broomsticks, immediately thinking that he hadn't spoken with Rosmerta in a while, then shook his head and carried on walking. It was better to shop first; it was too early to drink, even for him. So he headed to a little store similar to a bric-a-brac, but worth more (mostly), to find something useful for Molly and something at least partially Muggle for Arthur.

He himself liked the small shop, and so Severus took his time in searching the tables that filled the cosy space, whilst Alison (a kind but annoyingly talkative woman) gave commentary and information whenever he paused on an item.

For Molly he found an 'automatic gnome thrower'. He did not have the faintest clue as to how it worked, but it appeared to be a good idea. He then vaguely mentioned to Alison that he was finding Christmas gifts, as he hadn't passed anything he thought would be good for Arthur.

The woman apparently had good knowledge of how the second youngest Weasley had gotten to school in his second year, for she immediately walked over to a cabinet full of model cars, and searched for one specific one.

A pale blue Ford Anglia. "This is sort of like a Muggle alarm clock. Well, based on one, at least- it's a lot easier to use than those things. You speak into it, tell the car what time you want to be woken up, and it will beep the horn at that time. You can also tell it a song you hate, if that gets you up quicker. It's pretty useful."

Severus nodded. "Can't argue with that." As Alison was a Warbeck fan, he did not mention that Celestina immediately came to mind for the car to play to Arthur. They had a shared hatred of the music that Molly always seemed to play.

He took out a leather pouch, ready to pay for the two items, when a glint of red jewel caught his eye from behind the counter. He moved to the side, around Alison so that he could see better, and was surprised once he realised what it was.

There was a tag beneath the object, that confirmed what he had assumed from the first glance at it.

Goblin made, a perfect miniature of the sword of Gryffindor. Unlike the original, that offers help for those who ask for it, this one binds itself to the owner, offering protective magic when needed, and wards from its own memory. It can also link two people, so you can find the owner if need be.

He quickly glanced at Alison. "Could you tell me any more about that?" His eyes darted back to the sword, and the shop owner followed his gaze, then removed the small sword, attached to an incredibly thin silver chain, from the shelf.

She held it out to him, and Severus gently lifted the object, observing how light it was, but, indeed, appeared to be identical to the real one. The magic around it was very different, possibly because of the sword's 'memory', but that didn't matter.

He loved the piece of jewellery, and it bought forth a familiar face, who would also adore it. It was perfect for him.

"Exactly like the label says, Severus. Whoever had this one knew what it was. And you can use it to track. Keep an eye on your girlfriend, maybe?"

"It's lovely, Alison. Though if he heard you say it was for tracking, I think he'd be a little insulted."

He could easily picture Harry's indignation at that. He would also probably wonder why Severus hadn't corrected her when she first said girlfriend, as she probably now that the gift was for a lover. Severus didn't really feel like correcting her though; it would be so difficult to explain.

She appeared surprised, but said nothing else.

Severus smiled slightly, placed the necklace next to the toy car, and allowed her to wrap them in festive christmas tree covered paper.

- Once he had paid and left, Severus placed the items into one of his cost pockets (after shrinking the gnome thrower) and headed off down a side lane near the Three Broomsticks; this was where Dung usually 'worked'.

It was small and reclusive, but the people that bought things knew Mundungus worked there, just like a junkie always knows how to get their fix. Severus had to ask only two people to work out where he would be.

A prime place for drunks to stumble. This was useful to such a man, as the ones that could barely walk were easy to steal off, and the pleasantly buzzing drinkers were inclined to hand over large amounts of money for trinkets. It was good planning, Severus grudgingly admitted, as he crept around the corner.

The man was exactly where a homeless bloke had said, sheltered a little by an arch belonging to an old building, objects neatly placed in suitcases, some laid out on a rug to attract attention.

Severus was willing to bet that every single thing was stolen, and this was confirmed when he got close enough to the rug. Not a single one of those trinkets lacked the black family crest. The Slytherin felt ill. He had not liked Sirius Black, that had always been obvious, but he seriously doubted that the will had given everything over to this man.

The order had the house, technically, because Harry had let them. And Harry had let them because it had all been a part of his inheritance.

Severus was very angry, and he wanted to know when he had stolen from the house.

Casting a disillusionment charm, he moved towards Mundungus, then made himself 'appear' with his wand pointed at the man's throat. He wasn't going to let him run. Fletcher gulped audibly, and Severus smirked. He pulled his wand away, moved it to his other hand, then punched the other man straight in the face.

"Mundungus Fletcher, you utter shit. Now, I'm going to ask you something, and you're going to answer, got it?" Dung nodded reluctantly.

"Where did you get the Mirror of Erised?" His voice was low, threatening. Mundungus affected an innocent expression, which angered Severus even more. He punched the man, this time in the stomach.

"I've got it, Fletcher, so there's no point denying it. You sold it to the highest bidder, and for more money, they talked. They also handed it over. Apparently, they valued their life. Where did you get it?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange. I heard her bragging that she had stolen it from a high-security vault, waiting to be destroyed. She thought it to be a terrible waste, and took it before they could sneak it out, when the wards were down. I stole it from her when she went to visit snake face." That seemed truthful enough. Bellatrix was one crazy bitch, and Severus couldn't even be bothered to pretend that he was insulted at the name 'Snake-face.'

Instead, he nodded fairly reasonably. Then punched the thief again, this time in the stomach. Though it deviated from his usual behaviour that showed no emotion, because it was safer, there was no-one there but Mundungus, and he took pleasure in punching- it relieved tension, and let go of the anger far better than any spell.

"That's all well and good. But let me tell you, 'Dung', you are not to steal anything like that again. Really, you knew it should go to the ministry, or even Dumbledore." He said this grudgingly for though everyone trusted Albus, Severus knew him to be far more manipulative than people thought, and more that okay with using resources that crossed his path, should a situation arrive that needed them.

"But no, because you're Mundungus Fletcher, and the possessions of others are your business. Is that it, Fletcher?" He had his wand pointed at his throat again, and Mundungus shook his head vehemently.

"N-n-No, Snape. Honestly I-" Severus cut him off with a silencing spell, and wacked him upside the head.

"I'm not stupid, Fletcher. Those items all have the Black family crest on them. Did Sirius give it all to you in his will?" His voice was silky, threatening, and Mundungus was clearly not a clever man. He made the mistake of nodding.

Severus punched him, three times, straight in the ribs, until he heard a crack, and thought it best to stop. "You lying little shit, Dung. I know he didn't. We all know he left everything to Harry Potter. And you snuck into his house to steal stuff."

"When did you do that, Dung?" He wanted to know, but he was only bothering to ask the pathetic man for information because if he had snuck in, there was a problem with the wards. Which would mean that it was unreliable headquarters.

Mundungus opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Severus sighed heavily, and removed the spell, waiting for Dung to start spluttering excuses. To his surprise, he didn't.

"When I went to a few of the meetings, remember? Ol' Dumbledore wanted my help." Severus pulled back a little. Mundungus was telling the truth, and he was pretty much done with him anyway.

"Right, Mundungus. Today is your lucky day. Leave, now!"

Mundungus scrambled on the floor, and Severus kicked him. It was only light, really, but Mundungus howled. Probably because of the already cracked ribs.

"Not a chance, Dung. Anything belonging to Harry is to stay here with me. Got that?"

Mundungus nodded miserably, but picked up two suitcases - that he opened to reveal expensive watches, the other necklaces(one that used to belong to Lucius, but Severus didn't feel like doing anything about it)- and apparated away, probably to sell rubbish watches to stupid people.

Severus scooped up everything else, shrunk them, and placed it all in the opposite massive pocket to the one with all the gifts in.

He brushed his hands together, pocketed his wand, and walked back up the narrow pathway to the Three Broomsticks. Severus reckoned he deserved a drink.

0o0o0

(At the same time as all of that, more or less.)

Harry groaned as either Ron or Seamus hit him over the head with a pillow. Hard. He winced, shook his head, and decided it was Ron. Seamus would have already shouted something offensive, or make a joke.

He heard nothing, but seconds later, the pillow made contact once more.

"Alright, I'm getting up." He grumbled, dragging himself so that he was half-sitting, as if to prove he was.

"About time, too. Hermione is going to kill us. 'Make sure you both get up early, Ronald.'" He attempted his girlfriend's voice, and Harry was reminded of first year. 'It's LeviOsa, no LevioSAR.'

Feeling slightly more inclined to move, Harry sat up properly, and fumbled around for his glasses. He did not want to anger Hermione. He would need to have her at her most patient, so that she could help him with his Christmas shopping.

And he'd had been having such a lovely dream, as well. It hadn't been unrealistic, or ridiculous, or horrific, or even overtly sexual. It was the first dream he'd had in ages that was real, could have been real. It had been so simple as well. He had been curled up with Severus on the old worn sofa in Severus's office, warm and comfortable, talking. It was natural, but warm and pulled at his heart, emotions taking over that he blocked out when he was there with him.

His subconscious had thought that he could simply go and do exactly that, the second he was fully awake. Now that he was, he was faced with the reality that he wasn't meeting up with the Slytherin; he had to spend the day in Hogsmede, where it was cold and there was no Severus.

He moved quickly to avoid the slight chill in the room, which he only really felt because he had previously been cocooned in his duvet. Ignoring the urge to drag the warm material with him, Harry got dressed impressively fast, not really paying any attention to what he was wearing. Ron did not notice anything amiss either, and they headed to the common room before Hermione would get really annoyed and decide to enter the dormitory herself.

She immediately gave Harry an annoyingly knowing glance, and Harry was entirely confused before he looked down at himself. Firstly, it was blatantly obvious from his untied shoes and generally untidy appearance that he had just gotten out of bed. That wasn't the actual point though.

Secondly, he noticed that he was wearing a green turtleneck jumper, a silver belt, and black jeans. He obviously hadn't considered it, as Harry had not been paying the slightest bit of attention to his clothes, but there was no denying that it appeared to have a decidedly Slytherin theme.

He just blinked at her, but she didn't let it go, smiling mischievously at him as they made their way to breakfast.

- Through a rather large mouthful of sausage, egg, and toast, Ron managed to talk well enough for Harry and Hermione to work out what he wanted to say.

"Fot, su oo wanna su thudday?" Well, Hermione understood, anyway. "What do you want to do today?" She mouthed to Harry, whilst Ron was cutting a slice of bacon.

Harry shrugged, and reached for a toasted hot cross bun. He didn't care that it wasn't Easter (like Ron did), he liked them all year round. He could go on for ages about hot cross buns. They were too sticky and chewy plain, but he absolutely adored them toasted, with large amounts of butter. Best breakfast ever.

And his argument to Ron was; the house elves clearly didn't care either. Ron always said that the elves made them because Harry wanted to eat them, and Harry always ignored it.

"I need to buy gifts for everyone! I haven't bought anything yet!" Hermione looked panic stricken, then glared at Ron, as if it were his fault that she hadn't a strict schedule for the first year ever.

Harry swallowed his food before talking, because he knew Hermione would have a go at him otherwise. She had pretty much given up on Ron's manners, but she still did have some hope for Harry.

"Same, We're going to have to split up at some point; I haven't bought presents for either of you yet."

- Due to fear of Hermione's wrath, they got to Hogsmede quite significantly earlier than usual, and therefore found that they had more time to help each other find things, rather than rushing around, picking up anything vaguely suited to someone.

Hermione finally found a 'rubbish' joke book for her Dad, and then was finished. It had taken three hours, but they had all finished the majority of their shopping, despite the fact that they all had so many people to buy for.

"Time for you two to leave me in peace." She ordered jokingly, with a small shoo-ing motion. "Go on, and I'll see you at dinner." She kissed Ron, hugged Harry, and was off before either of them could reply.

- For Hermione's gift he immediately decided that books were the way to go, and headed to a rare bookstore. It was about a quarter of a mile away from the main area of Hogsmede, but he simply cast a lightening charm on all of the bags, and it wasn't a problem. The shop was tiny, and amazingly claustrophobic, as there were books in almost every available space, but he knew that his friend loved it, because of the massive range of topics and genres could give information on literally anything.

It didn't take that long to find a useful book titled 'Magical Races: The Laws and Ethics', which covered everything from Dragons, to House Elves, to Grindylows. There was also a section on wizards, as Vampires, Werewolves and several other magical races may want to read the book. One hundred copies of the book had been published, which was really very little, and Harry really hoped that Hermione would pay attention to the section about not offending House Elves.

The book had been surprisingly easy to find; it had fallen into his hands on his way to ask the shop owner for help. So had another book, as he had stumbled backwards into a stack, which had already been balanced precariously, causing it to wobble.

Only two books had fallen off, but Harry could still feel a glance from the old man sat in his armchair. (The store didn't have a till or desk- it was simply one room attached to the man's house.)

The other book was one Harry had heard of, as it was referenced to in many Defence books, though none of the authors had owned a copy. There was two copies in existence- one hand written version, that all of the other writers had seen in an enormous library, and one self-published copy, that had been banned at the time, as many people had been scared of the idea, thinking that it could make evil wizards more knowledgeable and powerful. It hadn't been destroyed, surprisingly.

It was just the sort of thing that he wanted to buy a man who had no need for anything decorative, and was totally absorbed in his need to gather information. He was a bit like Hermione in that sense, though far more selective in what he learnt. Harry had originally thought of something to do with potions, for a lack of any other ideas, but this was much better.

He took both books over to the man (who he thought looked a bit like a realistic Santa Claus; white beard, tired, warm but dark clothes), and offered an obscene amount of Galleons for them. But they were two of the rarest books, one being the second rarest, so it was understandable.

When he handed back a small bag with them in, Harry smiled in thanks, but couldn't keep himself from speaking.

"Are you a mind reader? Did you use legillimency without me knowing?" His tone was slightly accusatory, but the man just laughed loudly.

"No, of course not. I cast a spell so the books could help you find what you needed. You didn't seem the type to like filtering through all of these." He gestured around him, and the stack nearest swayed dangerously.

Harry grinned widely. "I'm not. Thanks for your help."

He waved back as he man lifted an arm to wave cheerily, and wished him a Merry Christmas before heading back out to go to Honeydukes. That seemed like the best place to look for something for Ron.

-He was quite right to go to Hogsmede, it turned out, because they had several knew but expensive gifts in stock, including a never-ending bag of chocolate frogs. He picked up that, an extra strength sugar quill, and a firebolt made from swiss roll.

He figured that was enough to keep Ron happy for a month or two. Entirely finished, cold, and not looking forward to the walk back to Hogwarts, he decided to go to The Three Broomsticks. Ron and Hermione could be there, for all he knew.

0o0o0

Severus sat at his favourite table in the Three Broomsticks, at the front, but away from where students tended to congregate. He hadn't been there in ages, and had missed both the butterbeer and the firewhisky.

Madam Rosmerta noticed him quickly, and bought over an almost overflowing mug of butterbeer, which she placed rather loudly in front of him. He looked up, and offered a small smile, before frowning back at the table.

"Hey, Rosmerta."

She put her hands on her hips, but smiled widely. "Why you lookin' so stressed, Severus? Has it all got to be a bit too much?"

As a member of the order, Severus figured that she might know some of what was going on, but he had no idea how much. For a secretive, plotting old man, Dumbledore seemed to think it necessary to tell people totally useless things, as well as incredibly important ones. He wouldn't put it past him to send owls to every member of the order.

"A bit, yeah." He figured she could reference that to whatever she wanted to. The woman seemed to have a talent for knowing when he was lying. She looked at the bar, which was currently devoid of customers, and took the seat opposite him.

Leaning close to him, she raised an eyebrow. "And how is Harry? I haven't seen him in a while either." The gleam in her eye confirmed the fact that Dumbledore had told.

Severus took a long drink from his glass. "He's okay, considering, I think. He's far more trusting of me than I would've originally thought. He-"

He broke off, and looked back at the table. Rosmerta patted his hand lightly, her skin warm. "What, Severus? You know it's best to talk to someone."

"Stop stealing Dumbledore's little lines. They're mostly crap." He took a deep breath. "He isn't... scared of me. At all. It's very strange. He was so frightened when he first found out, and is easily disgusted by anything The Dark Lord does. But when it comes to me... he doesn't even flinch."

Rosmerta nodded. "I guess, it's probably easy for him, if he obviously knows you wouldn't do it. He trusts you, Severus, like you said. I'm not sure why he does, but he does, so he's not going to be scared."

He sighed. "But, I know it's got to be scary. He has no problem with any kind of... intimacy. You would think he would have, even if he does trust me. You know, because he's got the idea now. Caution, just in case, is what I'd have expected."

She tented her hands, and Severus was not oblivious to the fact that she was trying to hide a smirk. "Intimacy?"

He glowered at her. "Not what you're thinking. I'm not shagging him. I'm not even kissing him."

She smiled, and didn't bother hiding it. "You sound a little bitter. Wish you were?"

He still glowered, but didn't bother responding. Rosmerta wasn't discouraged in her quest for details though.

"Cuddles, Severus? That doesn't seem like your thing."

He still didn't respond. He didn't feel like informing her that 'cuddles' was his thing. His relationships were few and far between, and he didn't have a family, so he rather liked the comfort and warmth he got with Harry.

"Suit yourself, Mr Grumpy."

"Thanks, Rosmerta. Mr grumpy? You can do better than that."

She smirked. "Yeah, I can. Isn't that your boyfriend?" She pointed and he turned to see Harry, who had just walked through the door.

Getting up, the woman made her way past the tables to serve Harry his usual Butterbeer. Severus watched them talk, smiling slightly, though he wondered why the rest of 'the golden trio' weren't there.

He downed the rest of his drink, and picked up the all his things. He debated as to whether to take the stolen goods back to Grimmauld place, decided against it, and walked over to Harry.

He held out the items to the Gryffindor, who frowned in confusion, but took them automatically.

"I think you need to lock Mundungus out of your house." He murmured, and walked out.

A/N-Please leave a comment!