A/N: I've had a little change in my writing style, and the layout, I hope it clears up some confusion as to who is who and what they're doing. And if it doesn't… well I'm screw .

If it helps, I try refer to them by their names (that's who they actually are) and then their physical attributes (i.e Emerald eyes narrowed into a glare - Snape stuck in Harry's body).

I'm sorry if that confused you even more.

ONWARDS!

Warnings/Disclaimer: See first chapter, and no I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter 5

Harry POV

"No?" Snape stared at the him as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. Harry looked away, nervously clearing his throat.

"Yeah." The admission, almost a whisper.

Harry shrunk as emerald eyes narrowed to glare at him.

"Don't be difficult Potter. Must you always refute what I say?"

"But sir-" An eyebrow rose as Harry tried to defend himself.

"I think it is rather obvious our dislike for each other, Mr Potter." Harry's stomach dropped. The man really hated him. For some reason there was a sting in the back of his throat, he knew the man hadn't been exactly pleasant, but he hadn't expected to be hated.

"I don't hate you." Harry tried one more time, it wasn't an exclamation so much as a simple statement. He stared hard at his bed spread, knowing if he looked up he'd be ridiculed. "I think hate is a really strong word." He only really hated the reptile that attempted to parade around as a man, and that repulsive rat.

Harry knew the difference between hate and dislike, between a childish grudge and a loathing and resentment that could consume a person. He'd had plenty of time to mull over his emotions during his summer weeks in the small padlocked room that smelled foul and held little if any light. He'd escape into his mind trying to sort through what had happened the year before, categorise, or at least identify what he had felt and why, if it had been justified. Most often he found himself cringing when he remembered a certain event where he had reacted without thinking. A typical Gryffindor trait.

He'd tried to apologise for his actions, but found that he couldn't word it properly, the Harry beneath the saviour front didn't know how to make himself heard, had trouble expressing himself through words, so instead he apologised through small actions. There had been a time when Ron had been riled up by Zabini, it had resulted into an exchange of fists instead of curses. The smaller Slytherin had been beaten, but had managed to land a few hard fists, one which had even reached, and broke Ron's nose. Harry had come upon them, instantly stunning Zabini, who at the time had been leaning against a wall breathing heavily and helping Ron to the hospital ward.

Later he realised his hot tempered friend had in fact started a pointless fight, by taunting the smaller Slytherin about his parentage, and their links to the Dark Lord, all of which were unfounded. Harry knew many Slytherin's had parents who had been drawn into the promise of power when the Dark Lord had first risen, later realising that this was a life and death pact they had signed not only themselves to, but also their family and most likely any children they raised. Their services were no longer of loyalty but of fear, the Dark Lord knew this, even promoted it with his frequent torturing, only the very inner ring of his most faithful followers had any kind of safe guard. They were known for war mongering and their hunger for power or for knowledge.

Harry sighed, he hated the stereotypical thought that every slytherin was a Death Eater. It made him susceptible to the theory, hadn't he been almost sorted into Slytherin? Also he knew for a fact most of the Slytherin parents, loyal to their brood, tried to keep them out of the Dark Lords fold, while many other students from different houses who thought the deranged men could help them with their little problems had no one to actually give them the raw facts to dissuade them.

In fact the most vile Death Eater he knew, was a Gryffindor.

Of course Zabini had risen to Ron's challenge, commenting on the status of the Weasley clan, their poverty and the fact they amounted to nothing.

Harry knew Ron was touchy about his family and their 'lower' status and the fact that the red head hadn't the fame and fortune his bespectacled 'best friend' had. But Harry had to admit his friend had been in the wrong.

The next week he had subtly apologised to Zabini, after spending a sleepless night turning the event over in his head. He'd anonymously brought Zabini sweets while the boy was in the hospital, getting his bruises and fractured rib healed. It had also resulted in him pausing only for a few seconds, as if he was merely reading himself to enter a room, but was in actual fact holding open doors for the other boy. That week found him absently finding and leaving books the boy might need at the library table, or near the one he often studied at, talking to the house elves and convincing them to add a few extra sweet desserts on the boys plate.

There was a clearing of the throat that broke Harry from his thoughts and brought him back into the small hospital room, into Snapes body. How would he apologise for this?

Harry realised he'd been brooding during a cold silence. Looking up he was caught in a stare that swept through him.

"Would you care to explain your previous statement Mister Potter? Or are you too busy sweeping out the dust out of the vast empty expanse between your ears?"

Harry blinked, trying to skim back over his thought process to what he had said.

" Oh." A glare in his direction. "Hate. It's a strong word, I just don't think it should be used hastily sir." Harry wasn't sure how he was suppose to word this to his potions professor, the man was intimidating enough, but to have to try and explain Harry's inner thoughts, not the false emotions and thoughts of 'the saviour'. And the raised eyebrow, and the piercing eyes regarding him didn't help. "I… er…"

"Your argument had a tolerable start, but if you plan on degrading it to monosyllabic nonsense, please do not continue."

Harry bit his lip, feeling the frustration build in him.

"Not to offend sir, but take your hatred of my Godfather." He didn't meet the man's eyes knowing if he did they'd be locked in a silent competition, one in which he would come out the loser. "It's childish."

"Mr Potter." The man was livid, Harry could tell by the way his name was growled, barely audible. "You should not speak of things you do not understand." It came out as a snarl and Harry leant back away from the enraged man.

"But sir I do understand!" It drew a quick stop as the man regarded him with narrow eyes. Harry hurried on quickly, so the other man couldn't interrupt. "We all need childhood rivals, but your rivalry never ended because Sirius was sent to Azkaban on no interference of your own. You needed closure that the imprisonment didn't give and now that he's out, you've picked up your rivalry, except now you use it as a safety, or escape mechanism. You both need something to remind you of your younger days. The war that's looming closer is taking its toll on both of you and you need something childish to indulge in so you continue this farce."

Silence. The lack of points taken or death inducing glares, was a sure sign Snape was busy thinking it over.

"I believe Potter." The man started slowly as if testing the words. "You don't understand something as simple as hate. I do not need that mutt, nor do I particularly want to remember my 'younger days', I especially do not need the mutt to bring back these fond memories. " The man regarded him with almost suspicion. Harry was sure that was the reason between Snape and his Godfather's rivalry. He knew that revealing something like that about someone could make them uncomfortable as sometimes they didn't know that they were doing it.

Harry was about to debate the idea that hate was simple but the door creaked open, and a brown head popped through. Harry was about to exclaim his best friends name but stopped himself just in time.

"Ms Granger." He glared in her direction and she blushed looking down.

"I was just bringing Harry his homework, I heard he was going to be in here for a few more days and I don't want him missing out." She shuffled in towards the bed where Snape sat in Harry's body. They had a whispered conversation which Harry couldn't make out before he saw the girl hand a few parchments over.

"See you Harry." She smiled as she slipped out of the room, a backwards glance at Harry who sat glaring out from the potions masters body.

"See you Hermie." He watched the smile disappear from the Gryffindor boys face as soon as the door closed. Green eyes turned to him.

"She wished me good luck in dealing with 'Professor Snape'." Harry noticed the older man seemed slightly surprised that she hadn't used an insult, or a offending term in regards to his features. "Now what would she mean by that? I don't bite do I?"

Harry swallowed. Hermione was the only one who knew he was… well… attracted to men. He almost cringed at having to admit it, he still wasn't comfortable, mostly because he didn't like the idea that if revealed to the wizarding population it would be splashed across the whole of Britain. Although he did like the fact that it was secret, something private he could indulge in, not known by people who had prophesised and planned out his whole life.

However that had been an embarrassing afternoon with Hermione. They had been by the lake, Hermione had been sitting under a tree re-reading through Harry's assignment, while he had been skimming stones on the mirrored surface of the lake. This was where they spent a lot of their afternoons. During their 4th year while Harry had been struggling with the Goblet of Fire and Ron's insecurities, he'd grown a lot closer to Hermione, even finding comfort in the study and books she always raved about and forced on him. That was also the year of the ball and Ron finding out that girls weren't all about books and study and some quite liked using the library for other things, especially the hidden corners which over the years must have seen quite a lot of action.

Fifth year had turned out interesting with Ron coming back both taller and more attractive, catching the interest of a few girls both in Gryffindor and other houses, although the red head never touched a slytherin. Harry had come back years older, having stared death in the face and seeing it slide past him to take another. Which to him was even worse.

They'd grown apart, and only Hermione held the Golden Trio together, and even she didn't try to force her two best friends together, she knew that they were growing up, both in different ways, and she accepted the different people they had become.

However her friendship with Harry had grown stronger as Ron withdrew from them into the hormone driven world of male teenagers. The two spent a lot of time together, studying, reading, talking or just sitting in silence. He knew more things about her than anyone else and she knew everything about him. He knew he loved her.

And that's why this was going to be difficult. He didn't know if he could lie to her. As for Professor Snape's question. Why had she wished him good luck? Well she sometimes gave him cryptic advice that he never knew he needed, or what it actually was for until the time came.

"I wouldn't know sir. But there's um… something you should know." Harry bit his lip, not wanting to meet his potions professors gaze. The venom revealed beneath the emerald green.

If this plan was to go off without a hitch, if they were to trick Hermione, then Snape would need to know everything. And that would mean Harry would not only have to admit his sexuality to his potions professor, but to himself as well. He would have to risk the possibility that the man would 'come out' to the press, that the only true secret he had would be spread across the tabloids.

"I'm…" Harry swallowed, trying to get the words past the lump in his throat, no pun intended. He grimaced at his lame thought. "I'm…" How could he put this?

"You're what Potter? Incompetent in the use of the English language?"

"When you're checking out the girls." Harry started quickly, trying not to trip over his words. "Umm, Hermione will kinda notice a few things. You've gotta um, kinda, look at… guys… as well… you know… not to get her suspicious." He kept staring at his hands, long fingers playing with the bed spread.

"You're trying to tell me in the ever eloquent butchering of our language, that you are bisexual?" Harry glanced up quickly, regretting it as soon as his eyes met the others.

"Um." A raised eyebrow and a non-impressed look in his direction. "No. Gay."

"I see. I suppose this is relevant information, is there any other small things you wish to mention? An aversion for pumpkin tarts? A love for striped socks?"

Harry stared at the man in his body, not quite comprehending the ease at which the man accepted the news.

"You did just hear me right?" Harry asked and the man glared at him.

"You may believe me ancient Mr Potter, but I am not deaf. And if you believe this mention of your sexuality was to drag a reaction out of me, or to have me throw myself at the feet of the golden saviour then you are most sorely mistaken."

"But you don't find it… wrong?" Harry shut his mouth with a quick snap. He was not having this talk with Snape. The man on the other bed stared at Harry as if trying to figure something out.

"Who on earth gave you that idea?" Snape paused as if remembering something. "Muggles." He sneered. "Often narrow minded and frightened of anything different. No scope for growth or change."

Harry wondered how Snape was going to survive the summer. He guessed not long.

There was scuffling outside the door, followed by the annoying cough that Harry cringed to. Dumbledore's raised voice could be heard over the commotion.

"Now now Dolores. I believe both Mr Potter and Master Severus are sleeping off their injuries, you have already hindered their healing process today, tomorrow would present a better opportunity to speak with them. Isn't that right Madame Pomfrey?"

Harry glanced at Severus who was glaring moodily at the door. Obvious dislike on his face. Harry studied the face of Harry Potter sitting opposite him, he'd never truly let that side of him show. He'd never shown true dislike to another person, he'd always hidden behind polite smiles, even with Draco it was more a look of annoyance and anger. With Voldemort and the rat it was outright hate and rage. But never dislike, even Snape had been more a mixture of fear, grudging respect and getting riled up by the acid tongue.

"It's called narcissistic behaviour."

Harry stared at him blankly and the other man glowered, absently rubbing his forehead. Harry wondered if the scar ached.

"The golden boy hasn't found any one worthy of himself so he has fallen in love with his own image." Harry blinked, before he felt the first fire of a blush sweep across his face. He had been in fact watching the way Snape changed his body just by being in it. There was a certain sharpness and a jaded quality in the weary way Snape held himself, as if he wasn't used to such energy and youth that the body the older man now resided in had.

Harry quickly changing the topic. He knew if he rebutted the man, they'd have a long argument in which he would somehow get roped into a confusing word play that would end with him unwittingly confessing he loved himself.

"What do you think Umbridge wanted?" Snape made no move to correct Harry's slip of respectful title.

"I do not presume to know the inner workings of that…" There was a pause in which Harry was sure he was going to add a derogatory term. "woman's mind. But I believe the headmaster, once he has driven her away will come into inform us."

Right on cue, as if he had been waiting for his next line in a play the headmaster walked in looking a little ruffled. He took of his hat, scratched his beard, and gave them a brilliant smile. Harry noticed it lacked the sparkle.

"Harry." The old man turned to regard the long dark haired man that sat hunched, but perked up at the name. "I'm sorry, but you have to resume Severus's classes tomorrow."

"What?"

"Most certainly not!"

The two voices combined were silenced by 'the look' from the headmaster.

"Madame Umbridge." His beard twitched with a smile as he saw the two grimace. "Has passed through another law, if the school can not find a replacement teacher the ministry will allocate one of their own choosing, until they deem the original teacher fit." The headmaster gave Severus a look. He received a glare in return.

"In which case if Harry does not teach my class and a replacement is found. I will never teach again, as the ministry will see to it that the ex-death eater is not seen fit enough to teach again."

"They have found a replacement." The headmaster murmured, and Harry watched the raised eyebrow, arch over the emerald eye, giving the old man a critical look.

"Who?" There was venom in that voice and Harry noticed an odd tone, which he put down as protective. Whoever this person was, would be taking over Snape's territory.

"Alinka Overcrane." The emerald eyes narrowed and Harry wondered who this person was.

"I will not have some complete dunderhead, with no knowledge of potions or of controlling students in my laboratories. The man is a disaster, he can't see past his own ego inflated cranium, to have time to teach, let alone a complicated subject such as potions."

"Um, sir?" Harry thought the man sounded much like a description Snape would give of 'the golden boy'.

"What?" The man grouched at the distraction, the anger was not directed at him but at the idea of this Alinka taking over the class. Harry winced as the other rubbed the lightening bolt scar a little harder. Snape was going to have nightmares tonight. Riddle was getting frisky this afternoon.

"Do you think I should really teach?" Severus glared at him, before connecting what he had said, with Harry's question.

"Believe me Potter." He sneered. "The man could give you a run for your money."

"So it's settled." Dumbledore clapped his hands joyously, the twinkle back in his eyes. "Harry you will start teaching Severus's classes tomorrow, and Severus you will be attending Harry's classes. I do hope you enjoy your next few days, I'll have the house elves bring you the appropriate items of clothing, and anything else you shall need for tomorrow. We'll discuss living arrangements tomorrow afternoon after classes." He beamed at them. "You'll have no more visitors today." He was just about to sweep out of the door before Harry stopped him.

"Headmaster?"

"Yes my boy?" He hovered near the door.

"Could you please make sure Sirius doesn't come back." Harry bit his lip. "I don't want him to get hurt, and it's dangerous here."

The old man gave Harry a calculating look.

"Sirius is suppose to be minding Grimmauld place." He stroked his beard. "Dear me, news does travel fast." He nodded to himself, before his eyes focused on Harry's. "I'll make sure he doesn't return here. I'm glad you have realised the dangers for your godfather." He smiled kindly and Harry felt himself blush as he remembered his immature temper tantrum when he had wanted to see Sirius. It really was too dangerous, he had almost lost his Godfather before he realised it. And he had sworn he wouldn't put him in danger again, he was the only family left.

"Harry, Severus." He left the room, seeming almost a float. Harry often wondered if the old man had in fact charmed the air beneath his feet to allow him to do just that.

"Mister Potter." The man was rubbing the famous scar, although Harry preferred to call it infamous. "Tomorrow's class-"

"Ice helps." The man stared at him as if Harry had lost his mind. "The scar." Harry tapped his own unblemished forehead. "Ice helps the aching burn. But you'll probably have nightmares tonight."

The man regarded him suspiciously as Harry conjured up a small specialty ice pack he had researched. It didn't warm, didn't melt or drip, and it adjusted to the right temperature to numb the aching, it was also soft and you could charm it to stay in the one spot. He floated it over to Snape who stared at it.

"I believe Mister Potter I am capable of helping myself. I am also, if you care to recall a master in Occlumency, so these nightmares should not pose a problem."

Harry merely shrugged, eyes catching on the parchments that sat on the other mans bedside table.

"Could I have my parchments please, sir?"

A raised eyebrow, but the papers were tossed in his direction.

That's how Harry spent the next few hours, trying to ignore the emerald gaze boring into him, or the heavy silence which was only made louder by contrast to the occasional scribbling of his quill on parchment. He could have kissed Hermione for bringing him something to do, as opposed to spending the last hours of the day arguing and losing to his potions professor.

He was half way through the question of whether it was more difficult to transform a living thing into an inanimate object or visa versa when it started. First he noticed shifting in the bed beside him, which he ignored, staring harder at the words which had trailed off. He had re-read the last sentence seven times before he heard a choked gasp.

He looked up quickly to see his small body tensed, clutching at his forehead.

"Professor?" He stumbled off his bed, parchments rolling under his feet. Rushing over, he jumped back as the small body arched violently. Casting a silencing spell, and a few others to stop the man from hurting himself too badly, Harry tried to creep a little closer.

Then the broken screaming started. Harry could feel tears burning in the back of his eyes. God this was horrible, he'd never seen himself during his particularly violent visions, no wonder Hermione was so worried about him, she'd only been there for one of his worst ones. He'd woken up to find her hysterical, surrounded by teachers. He'd always remembered to fall asleep under as many silencing and notice-me-not charms as possible, he didn't want to be seen as weak.

"Professor. It's alright. I'm here." His stumbling comfort was silenced by a cry that pierced straight through him. That was his own voice, but he could hear a touch of Snape in it, and that was what made it worse. He wished he could take this back, wished he was the one in his body, writhing under the ghosts of mulitple Crucios.

He crept even closer, his hand grasping a wrist. The convulsing stopped suddenly and everything was quiet.

A thick silence as if the room was holding its breath waiting.

"You have failed me Lucius." Harry looked up into ruby red eyes that were staring unseeingly at him. Fear spiked through him but he didn't let go of the wrist. He hoped Riddle wouldn't sense his presence so near. "You were to bring me your brat, you promised great things from that boy. Instead I find out that he is in fact contemplating on aligning himself with the meddlesome old fool. This betrayal shall not be over looked." The convulsing started again, but this time their was no screaming, as if the victim believed they deserved what they received. Or perhaps Snape had found hidden restraint that Harry was never able to find. He always woke up with a raw throat, and tears in his eyes, he never tried to restrain his screams. Finding release from the torment, he needed to voice the pain of others, as if it would somehow help them as well.

It was hard fast and brutal. Harry knew Riddle was at an end, so before he could regain strength to attack again, or to bring someone else into be tortured Harry started to shake the man, lying unconscious in his body.

"Professor! Wake up." This was a critical stage. Harry knew that if he would wake up before the insane man started torturing again he would save his potions professor from another round of torture. He also knew that it was during this time that he would try and wake himself, often being unable to, dooming himself to hours more of unbearable pain.

"Potter." The hoarse voice murmured, as eyes pulled themselves slowly open. No venom was held in them, just pure exhaustion. Harry noticed his grip from the wrist had moved up to interlace fingers with the other. He stared at the clasped hands and imagined for a moment that he was back in his body, holding hands with his potions master, after a vision. But soon the hands started shaking in his grasp destroying the image. The after effects of a Crucio.

He stared down at his own pale face, from which the potions master stared out of. He tightened his hold on the now violently shaking hand, hoping the man wouldn't react too badly, instead the gesture seemed to be ignored as the man looked away as if embarrassed by his lack of control over his tortured body.

Harry wasn't going to say anything, he knew what it felt like straight after visions. The shocking feeling of another entering and parading through your mind, or being tossed into another's. The pain that flooded through your body, the shaking and the exhaustion.

"Dobby?" Harry called out softly into the room followed by a pop.

"Mr Harry Potter sir?" Dobby gazed up at the obsidian eyed man. "How can Dobby be of service?"

"I'd like the blue potion from the second layer of my truck, fifth compartment."

"Of course sir." The small creature bowed and disappeared. Green eyes turned to regard him, curiosity and suspicion unable to be formed into words.

"Hermione saw me during one of the visions." Harry stared at the tossed bedspread, that had been disturbed during the torture. "She spent the rest of the month researching and brewing a potion for the after effects of the Crucio. It doesn't really prevent pain, and it doesn't really heal, but it's more of a bandaid effect, numbing the pain."

A glare in his direction and a broken voice still with the power to sting lashed him.

"I am a Potions Master, Potter, simple potions such as that are common knowledge." Harry winced at the raw quality of the voice and decided not to bring up the fact that this 'simple' potion was in fact one of the more complex in the book. Then again, it would most definitely be simple to the potions professor.

A third pop and the glass vile was presented to Harry with an exaggerated bow.

"Is there anything else Dobby can do for you sir?"

"Two bowls of Chicken soup would be lovely Dobby." The elf bowed and disappeared with an excited squeak. It wasn't often that Harry asked for his favourite meal.

"Chicken Soup?" The voice croaked, eyes almost shut from exhaustion, but the man managed to pull himself into a sitting position, almost puffing from exertion. Visions and torture sessions always drained Harry of vast amounts of energy, it seemed it effected Severus just as badly.

"It helps your throat." Harry pulled his hand away from the man who stared at where their hands had been joined as if the skin was contaminated. Harry pretended to ignore the look, a little hurt by it, but instead he pulled out the stopper on the vile, conjured up a spoon, and prepared to ladle the medicine to the man.

"What do you think your doing Potter?" The voice broke mid growl. The head turned away from the offered spoon.

"Oh." He hadn't even been thinking, preparing to coddle the man for putting him in that position to begin with. It hadn't actually occurred to him that Snape would definitely not want to be coddled, especially by Harry Potter. "Sorry sir." He blushed handing the spoon over to the man as well as the bottle. He was about to retreat back to his bed before he realised the man couldn't lift the spoon without shaking so much that the medicine almost spilt.

"Here." He took hold of Snapes hand which was halfway to the mans mouth, and held it firmly. The potions master didn't even have time to think before a spoonful was poured into his mouth. He coughed and spluttered and glared at Harry at the same time, the man was a master at multi-tasking.

"Magic Mister Potter." He glared, took his wand out and Harry panicked. The man was going to hex him not only for touching him but spoon feeding him. Instead the wand was pointed at the spoon and a small stream of Latin flowed out from the older man's lips.

The spoon floated steadily in the air dipping into the vile to draw out another spoonful. It floated before swerving upside down, the liquid staying perfectly on the spoon, as if gravity did not exist. Harry felt himself blush, he still wasn't used to the idea that magic could solve a lot of things. Perhaps it was his muggle upbringing, or the fact that most of his problems couldn't be solved with a flick of a wand.

He sighed and retreated back to his bed, only looking up when the spoon clattered to the floor on the way back to the bedside table. Harry's body looked exhausted, he guessed Severus was also magically drained, probably from trying to fight the visions, the magic curses were also draining on energy, both magical and non-magical.

Severus wouldn't be able to go to class tomorrow, especially as his muscles as well as his magic would be protesting tonight's bashing. He'd feel worse tomorrow than the sharp intense pain of today. Harry kept his mouth shut as the man forced his eyes to stay open, he wouldn't say anything as the man looked readily to kill.

Harry turned back to his transfiguration questions, just in time to get interrupted by the soup he had asked for. Dobby, used to serving Harry in the hospital wing, had already charmed and set up Severus' soup so that the all the man had to do was sit there, and it would dish itself to him. Harry thanked the house elf, grateful for the creatures consideration.

The rest of the evening was spent with Harry re-reading his question, unable to concentrate, worrying about tomorrow and how everything was going to work out, worrying about Riddle, Snapes inability to use Occlumency to stop them from happening, and what was going to happen to Draco. He wasn't sure how he was going to take the news of Draco's supposed quest to become light, but then he had dropped many of his preconceived notions of Slytherins a while ago.

He fell asleep, propped with his parchments on his lap, an uncomfortable kink in his neck, a whirl wind of confusion, questions and doubts spinning through his mind and half shut eyes watching him.

Examining.

A/N: So so sorry for the long delay. It will have to be every second week updates from now on. I'm sorry this chapter isn't as long as it's suppose to be, I'm not yet used to 12 hour shifts for 6 days a week (plus living 45 minute drive from home). Hopefully next update will be longer (however it will be two weeks away, sorry!)

I will reply to reviews, if I haven't replied, I'll reply the following weekend.

Thanks everyone for your patience!