A/N: Here you are, my lovelies! Chapter six! Enjoy!

Chapter Six

25

Harry made a rash decision that night.

After dinner he told Ron and Hermione he was going to the Owlery to send a note to the Weasleys so they knew he was okay. Ron said that was probably a good idea; he hadn't written his mum himself, but given how prone to gossip Hogwarts was, it was entirely possible she had heard. To be fair, Harry did go to the Owlery and send a letter to the Weasleys explaining what had happened, but that was only an excuse to ditch Ron and Hermione.

Once the letter was sent he walked down to the second floor, trying to keep his mind clear. If he stopped to think about what he was doing he'd realize how stupid it was, and while that didn't necessarily mean he'd turn around and go back to Gryffindor, it was possible. He didn't think about what he was going to say, either. Instead he thought about white cuffs, because that was what he did.

Harry knocked on the door at exactly seven.

There was a pause before Snape said, "Enter."

Harry slipped into his office, staying close to the door. "I'm not late," he said nervously. "And I knocked."

Snape studied him, and Harry stood his ground as best he could, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. And trying to keep himself from looking at Snape's cuff, which, after everything else that had happened in the past few weeks, seemed really idiotic.

"The directions and ingredients for a Calming Draught are on the desk," Snape said eventually.

"I don't need directions," Harry replied, going over to the desk, which was indeed already set up, which was very strange. "I spent my summer making them."

"I would feel more comfortable if you had instructions," Snape said.

A book was open before him, free of any and all annotations. Harry pushed it aside and started preparing the ingredients. He would've rather make something more complicated or that he wasn't so familiar with; as it was, his mind was free to drift away. It drifted to Snape, as it always did. Despite Hermione's constant warnings, Harry started going over every single event and every single word, looking for what almost certainly wasn't there.

He shouldn't say almost.

But, well. Almost wasn't quite definite. And there was always a chance.

Er. Maybe not, not with Snape. He'd accepted that.

Still, though. Almost sounded better. Less twisty.

"How much do you want?" Harry asked. "There's enough ingredients for more that I can fit in the cauldron."

"The choice is yours," Snape replied. "The cauldron is extendable."

Was that acknowledging that Harry didn't have to be here? Harry hadn't been expecting that. "Okay," he said amicably. He felt around for the mechanism, enlarged it, and started the actual brewing process. He was having a hard time deciding whether or not he should try to talk and if so, what about. He shouldn't push it, but the only way anything was going to happen, good or bad, was by pushing. He would have brought up Snape's old book if that hadn't ended so catastrophically.

Harry couldn't think of anything. Rather, he could think of a lot of things, but none of them were a good idea. What's Malfoy been going on about? Why haven't you thrown me out? Why did you sit with me this morning, how long were you there for, and do you actually care that I visited you over the summer? Are you still indifferent towards me? I think I'm in love with you, please don't hate me? Those were not acceptable conversation starters, not if he wanted to live.

So he brewed in silence. Making a batch this big was time consuming, and by the time he finished, he had an idea it had been around two hours. He transferred the potion to a large jug, cleaned his station, and brought the finished product to Snape's desk.

"I've finished," Harry said, which was obvious. "How much time is left?"

"There is no time restriction, Potter," Snape replied, not looking up from his book. "You are here of your own volition. You may leave whenever you like."

So they were acknowledging it. Which meant that Snape hadn't minded that he was here. He'd even planned for it. Harry was relatively sure that counted as strange. "Is there anything else you need?" Harry asked.

"There are always potions I need," Snape said. "If you intend on staying until I no longer require anything, you are never going to leave."

Harry thought that sounded okay. "Well, er, if I go back to the Tower I'll have to deal with Ron and Hermione doing—er—couple things that I'm not, um, a part of, and so staying out for a while, that might not be a bad thing." That was an exceedingly awkward sentence, especially not when said to Snape, who raised an eyebrow.

"You believe your discomfort around your friends is greater than my desire for privacy?" he asked.

Harry forced himself not to fidget. "Maybe?"

"You are aware your presence in my office is suspicious enough without brewing as well?" Snape continued. "I am indifferent, but if Minerva was to find out, my life would become drastically unpleasant."

Harry decided that, given how forward he'd been so far, he might as well keep going with it. "I'd be more inclined to stay if you weren't indifferent," he said, averting his eyes. He ended up staring at Snape's cuffs. He had a problem, he was aware. "Ron and Hermione at least like me, even if they won't stop snogging."

"Your continual nagging regarding my disposition towards you is not only irritating but indecipherable," Snape said. "I do not enjoy things I don't understand."

That makes two of us, Harry thought. He shrugged. "It's up to you."

Snape was looking at him like he was a particularly difficult, confusing and irritating puzzle. "If you insist," he finally said. He waved his wand, and a host of ingredients flew across the room and onto the table, as well as a piece of parchment with instructions. "Dreamless Sleep."

"Sure," Harry replied, stomach so twisty he thought he might throw up. "Thank you, Professor."

"For doing my work for me?" he asked, then repeated himself. "If you insist."

"Mhm," Harry said. His back was to Snape and he was reading over the instructions, so he allowed himself a bit of a smile.

"And Potter, if you faint yet again, you are banned from my office."

Harry wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or die of embarrassment. "Yes, sir."

A few minutes into preparation there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer the door swung open, and Malfoy walked in. Harry immediately turned back to the huckleberries he was dicing.

"What're you doing here?" Malfoy asked bluntly. "I thought you were out of detention."

"He is," Snape replied smoothly. "What do you want, Draco?"

"Tea," Malfoy answered, and Harry felt his eyes boring into the back of his head. "Maybe brandy, if you're so inclined."

"I have no hot water prepared," Snape said, which was the most ridiculous excuse for not serving tea Harry had ever heard. "And you have been coming here seeking alcohol far too often for my tastes."

"Uh, right," Malfoy said slowly. "Do you want me to put up the kettle?"

"No."

Malfoy made a quiet noise of annoyance. "Fine, I get it. I'll leave."

"Not so fast, Draco," Snape said, and Harry knew that voice well enough. It was his angry voice, his I'm-restraining-myself-because-it's-not-proper-to-yell voice. "You should know well enough by now how little I like to repeat myself."

"Is there another tea incident I'm forgetting?" Malfoy asked innocently.

"Stop meddling in my affairs," Snape replied sharply. "Do not talk to others on my behalf. If something needs to be said, I will say it. Explain why this is the third time I have had to tell you this in the past month."

Harry flushed. Merlin, why was Snape having this conversation now, when he was right here? He pressed the knife down too hard and squirted huckleberry juice all over everything.

"It must have slipped my mind," Malfoy said lightly. "On the off chance I was ignoring your request, perhaps it is because I'm concerned."

"There is nothing to be concerned about," Snape retorted. "As I have told you. What must I do to convince you, and why should I indulge in such a demonstration?"

"Well," Malfoy said slyly. "You could always—"

"Stop," Snape interrupted. "Forget it. I believe you were going to leave?"

"Of course," Malfoy replied. "Enjoy your beverage-free evening, Severus. Potter, good to see you haven't died."

"It is?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Of course," Malfoy repeated, faking surprise. "Severus requires your services, as I can see you know. He's getting far too old to be brewing as much as he does."

"Malfoy!" Snape snarled. "Ten points from Slytherin. Get out before you make me take any more points."

"Until next time, then," Malfoy said, and left.

Harry was burning with questions and the twisting was stronger than ever. "Is everything all right?" he asked, not really thinking it through. "Malfoy said concerned, and—"

"I said there was nothing to be concerned about," Snape replied. "Did you not hear?"

"I did," Harry said. "I was just—I don't know. Malfoy's not really the type to be worried about anyone other than himself, so if he admitted it, I'd think there was a reason why? Maybe?" He needed to stop, to shut up, right now.

"Will you never learn, Potter?" Snape asked icily. "My business is not yours. I have spent eight years attempting to drill this into your thick skull, and yet it never seems to penetrate. If you wish to remain in my office, I highly recommend closing your mouth."

Harry wasn't particularly good at closing his mouth, and something had occurred to him. He'd almost died the night before. What if—? "Is it about Nagini's attack?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"My health is as good as it ever is," Snape said dryly. "Leave me alone and return to your work."

"The Calming Draught I made is perfect," Harry said. "If you need it."

"This is your last warning, Potter," Snape replied. "Stop talking or leave."

Harry stopped talking. It was not easy. Eventually he was involved enough in the potion that his questions moved from inescapably important to the back of his mind. He comforted himself with the fact that things were definitely strange. That had to be enough, at least for now.

The potion was exceptionally finicky, and eventually even the strangeness faded away. He was following handwritten instructions, which was a little nerve wracking, but he had no choice but to trust them. Given yesterday, there was no chance Snape would have made any last minute changes to the directions. The potion was purple from the moment he started brewing, and that was a relief. He hadn't taken Dreamless Sleep in a long time, but it was a striking jewel purple and he remembered it vividly.

It was also a relatively long potion. It needed forty-five minutes of simmering halfway through, and once Harry set the timer and sat down, his eyelids started to droop. He didn't know the time but he had been on his feet for quite some time, and he hadn't slept well last night because of the shaking and the worry. He closed his eyes, just for a second, just to rest them.

A moment later the alarm was going off. Harry jerked to his feet, bumping the table. A drift of minced holly leaves fell floor, rendering them useless. They were next. And needed to be added immediately.

"Bloody hell," Harry said quietly, magically sweeping them up and depositing them back on the table. A quick inspection revealed the pile to be filled with dust and fluff and dirt. Not okay. "Um, Snape?"

"Choose your next words carefully."

"What if I can't use the holly leaves?" Harry asked. "Theoretically, what would happen if I left them out?"

"Instead of the sleep being dreamless, it will induce nightmares," Snape replied. "I would not recommend it."

Harry let out a nervous whine. "Potentially, if I let it simmer for more than forty-five minutes before adding the rest of the ingredients, what then?"

"It would turn to cement, ruining the cauldron," Snape said.

Harry worried his lower lip. "Hypothetically, which of those would you rather?"

"Neither," Snape replied.

"What if maybe the holly leaves had dust in them?" Harry tried. "Would that cause a problem?"

"Obviously."

"Okay, well, if you had to make a really fast decision, what would you pick?"

Snape let out an extraordinarily irritated sigh. "Evanesco," he drawled, and the potion disappeared. "Clean the station and get out."

Harry quickly cleaned up. He was on the edge of absolute misery; this was not how tonight was supposed to go. He glanced at Snape's stupid bloody cuff one last time. "Tomorrow at seven?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Do not be late."

That, um, was not the answer he had been expecting.

"Uh, no, of course not."

26

Ron and Hermione were still awake. They were in the common room snogging, and Hermione's shirt was off. The scene squelched any good feelings left from Snape's response.

"Hello," Harry said loudly as he walked through the portrait hole.

His friends both blushed terribly. Hermione slid off Ron's lap and quickly pulled her shirt on while Ron coughed uncomfortably and conspicuously slid a pillow onto his lap.

"We didn't know when you were getting back," Ron said, voice unnaturally high. "You sort of passed the timeline for owling Mum hours ago."

"Yeah, um, I was with Snape," Harry replied, collapsing onto the chair closest to the fireplace. "It was rather, er, strange. Given what I walked in on, you're going to sit and listen and not complain once."

"I'm not going to encourage what shouldn't be encouraged," Hermione replied. "And it's getting awfully late to listen."

"Okay," Harry said lightly. "Then I won't tell you how Snape let me stay in his office for, I dunno, four hours, or when Malfoy showed up and what he said, and definitely not whether or not I was invited back tomorrow."

"You've got my attention," Ron said. "What happened?"

"I'd rather tell you both at once," Harry replied. "It's a long story, I don't want to repeat myself tomorrow, and since Hermione doesn't want to stay…"

She sighed irritably. "Fine. I'm listening."

Harry recounted the story. It took a while, and by the end he knew he should be even more tired, only instead he was practically thrumming with excitement.

"Tell me that's not strange," Harry demanded when he was done.

"Definitely strange," Ron confirmed. "Especially Malfoy. What's he doing?"

"Not a clue," Harry replied. "I'm thinking I need to corner him and weasel it out of him."

"I don't know," Hermione said nervously. "He's not exactly known for being helpful and telling the truth. He might lie just to mess with you."

"Yeah but I can't exactly corner Snape," Harry replied.

"I'm pretty sure you did," she said. "In his office. And, as strange as it is, I think it worked out in your favor."

Harry smiled slightly. "I was thinking that, too. But he still didn't tell me what's going on."

"Does it matter?" Ron asked. "Isn't the point for you to spend time with him in a way you can justify as not being creepy?"

"Well, yes," Harry replied. "But once I did that, which I have, then next would be getting him to talk to me."

"That firmly crosses the encouraging line," Hermione said. "Harry, he's not going to open up to you. You proved that today. Besides, didn't he say again that he's indifferent towards you?"

"Yeah, but," Harry started, trying to figure out what came next. "He didn't act that way. And even if he did, if he was really indifferent, then he wouldn't care about telling me one way or the other."

"You're smarter than that," Hermione said. "Snape is infamously private. It doesn't matter who's trying to talk to him, it's not going to happen. The only person he ever routinely told the truth to was Dumbledore, and, well…"

"Don't do that," Harry snapped. "We're not talking about that."

"Yeah, 'Mione, it's way too late for that," Ron said. "You don't need to prove that Snape doesn't talk, everyone knows that."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sounding properly chagrined. "You're right. Harry, can't you be happy with what you have and leave the rest alone?"

"Harry's not known for leaving things alone," Ron replied. "That's asking too much."

"Yeah, I think Ron's right," Harry said. "It's—well, I can't—I mean, I've gotten this far."

"But you could lose all of it," Hermione protested. "Snape is very difficult, and what you've done is quite an accomplishment. Please try to realize that."

Harry briefly closed his eyes, and again he found they were suddenly very heavy and it was quite difficult to open them again. "I'm exhausted," he said. "Can we agree it's strange, and then we can stop talking? I'll go to bed and you two can go back to doing whatever you were doing."

"Definitely strange," Ron agreed.

"Snape and Draco have always been strange," Hermione said, nearly exactly echoing Ron's words from a few days ago. "But yes, I suppose this is abnormal even for them."

"Thank you," Harry replied forcefully. "Now goodnight. I'll see you in the morning, preferably fully clothed."

Harry fell asleep thinking about white cuffs. Even after everything that happened, it was still the white cuffs. He was starting to think it would always be white cuffs. White cuffs forever.

27

It was Thursday, he'd been on break for six days, but it was only now that Harry realized he didn't know what to do with himself. Last Christmas he'd gone to Godric's Hollow with Hermione, and that was clearly not going to happen again. The Christmas before that had been at the Burrow, and the one before that at Grimmauld Place, with trips to St. Mungo's. Before that he'd spent his holidays at Hogwarts, focused on stopping one plot or another. This year—well, this year was different.

There was a lot of homework to be done but he could only focus on work for so long. Besides, Hermione was well ahead of him like always, but since she and Ron were dating, Ron was bullied into studying more often that usual, so even he was making better progress than Harry. He was left irritable and not inclined to admit he was the only one who had yet to do his Transfiguration essay.

There was the usual, of course. Games of chess and Exploding Snaps. Flying with Ron, though never for very long, not given how cold it was. A few snowball fights, but the number of staff was so much larger than the students who stayed, and each game resulted in a massacre. Harry would've enjoyed those a lot more had Snape been involved, but of course he wasn't.

Unlike other plots, Ron and Hermione were much less inclined to go over Snape and Malfoy's motives over and over again. Not that they hadn't gotten sick of Harry's rants in previous years, but at least those had been about something more concrete and reasonable than whatever was going on now. The only thing all three would agree on was that it wasn't related to dark magic or Voldemort, and that it was strange. Hermione refused to talk about it any further so she wouldn't "encourage" Harry. Ron would go a bit farther than that, but would abruptly change the topic whenever Harry brought up his feelings.

In any case, that Thursday wasn't the most interesting day. He did homework for a while but stopped long before Ron and Hermione, instead flipping through an old Quidditch magazine. After lunch he wandered aimlessly through the castle, mopey, frustrated and severely annoyed at Malfoy, Snape and himself. Mostly himself. If he hadn't followed Ron's advice and turned in that idiotic essay none of this would be happening. Yes, Snape wouldn't be speaking to him and yes, this was sort of better than that, kind of, but his stomach wouldn't be twisty and he wouldn't have such a bad headache and he could just sit back and enjoy his holiday.

"Oi, Potter! Wait up!"

Harry groaned quietly. The last thing he needed right now was another nonsensical run in with Malfoy. He turned around, letting Malfoy catch up so they weren't yelling from opposite ends of the corridor.

"What now?" he sighed.

"About last night," Malfoy said. "Why were you in Snape's office?"

"I was making a Calming Draught," Harry replied defensively.

"I didn't ask what you were doing," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "I asked why. No more detention, your most hated professor, I'm not seeing the appeal."

"Why should I tell you?" Harry asked. "You've hardly been open and honest with me."

"I have!" Malfoy protested. "I've told you I want you to be nice to him and I want that because he's my godfather, I care about him, and I felt bad for him being stuck with you all holidays."

"Maybe at first," Harry retorted. "But after that? The bit with helping that you refuse to explain? What you were starting to say last night before Snape kicked you out? Tell me those things, and maybe I'll let you know what's going on with me."

Malfoy looked pained. "I can't. Severus is mad at me enough as it is."

"For interfering with his business," Harry said, though it was sort of a question.

"He needs it," Malfoy muttered. "He's so bloody stubborn."

"But you're not going to tell me why," Harry replied. "So I've got no reason to tell you."

"Tell you why Severus is stubborn?" Malfoy asked. "Really?"

"Even you aren't that daft," Harry snapped. "You know what I mean. What he's being stubborn about."

"Why do you care?" Malfoy shot back.

"I told you, I don't hate him," Harry said. "Snape—" He faltered. "He, uh, the Pensieve, I mean. Did a lot of me."

Malfoy gave him a strange look. "Are you always so inarticulate when talking about Severus?"

"Look, either come out and say whatever it is you're trying to say or leave me alone," Harry replied. "And I swear, if it's just 'be nice to Snape' again, I've got that by now, and I'm working on it."

Malfoy sighed. "We both want the same thing, right? For Severus to be happy? Shouldn't we be working together, then, rather than fighting all the time?"

Harry was flabbergasted. "We always fight!" he exclaimed. "We hate each other!"

"So do you and Severus, I thought," Malfoy countered. "But clearly that's not true, otherwise you wouldn't be choosing to spend your time with him and he wouldn't be letting you." Of all the people Harry wanted to acknowledge that particular piece of information, Malfoy was really low on his list. "Bloody hell, he kicked me out last night so he could have time alone with you, and you let him."

"Okay, for one thing I was in the middle of a potion, I couldn't just stop," Harry said. "And do you really need me to explain why I don't want to spend time with you?"

"No, but I do need you to explain why you want to spend time with him," Malfoy said.

Harry was done with this conversation. Really, very done. "I'm leaving," he replied, turning around. "Stop follow me and stop cornering me and just—just stop."

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled. "For Merlin's sake, let me help you!"

Harry whirled around. "Help with what?" he shouted. "I'm really fucking sick of you and your plotting and scheming. Either tell me what's going on or get out of my face."

Malfoy looked around, making sure they were alone. Nobody else was in the corridor, but several portraits were looking overly interested, and he then grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him into a small alcove overlooking the grounds. "Listen, it doesn't matter why," he said quietly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, forget about that. You have no reason to tell me your business, so we'll just pretend there aren't any motives on either side. But you both want to spend time together, and I can make that happen."

Harry was at war with himself. He wanted someone to talk to, wanted someone on his side who encouraged him, but Malfoy? Really? It had to be Malfoy? "If I was going to go along with you," he said slowly. "What would you say?"

"I'd ask you what your plans are," Malfoy replied. "I'd give you pointers. And I'd remind you to be nice to him because—shut up, let me finish—he's not close to many people, and he's already gone way, way out on a limb for you over and over again, and if you're going to try to be his—friend, or whatever—make sure you mean it."

Harry was thrown. "Um, yeah," he stammered. "I know. I mean, I know he doesn't trust anyone, so if I was trying to get his trust, or whatever, I wouldn't take that lightly."

Malfoy nodded and let go of Harry's arm. "You're an arse, but you're a loyal arse, I'll give you that."

"So what're you going to do?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "Stand there and stare at me until I magically figure out what you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking," Malfoy replied irritably. "How'd you get into his office yesterday? How'd that get started?"

"I just sort of went," Harry said. "At seven, when I was supposed to have detention. Everything was already set up."

"You got there at seven?" Malfoy asked. "I didn't come down until nine thirty. There's no way you were still working on a Calming Draught."

"Um, no, I finished that, and started on Dreamless Sleep," Harry replied.

Malfoy frowned. "Okay, so you went without detention and stayed past when you were supposed to leave for what you didn't have?"

"We're not talking about motive," Harry snapped.

"Fine, but you need to tell me what you said to get Severus to let you stay," Malfoy replied.

Harry flushed slightly. "Er. Ron and Hermione can be. Um. Exclusive, these days. I told him I didn't want to go back yet."

Malfoy smirked. "If that weren't so disgusting it'd be hilarious. What did he say?"

"Leave my friends alone," Harry said automatically, thinking. All of Hermione's insistence that nothing meant anything had apparently worked its way into his head; it wasn't that he'd let anything go, especially not his cuffs, but he did need to work to remember the conversation. "Okay, well, he told me I could leave whenever I want. He said he didn't care one way or another, but he'd be in trouble with McGonagall if she found out. He got, er, annoyed when he thought I was bothering him about his indifference—which I wasn't, he misunderstood—and then he said I could stay if I insisted." He paused. "Okay, he might not have been misunderstanding. But he still let me stay."

Malfoy shook his head. "You two, I swear to Merlin. I assume he didn't say anything after I left, but presumably you did?"

Harry fidgeted. Telling Ron and Hermione about it was pathetic enough, let alone Malfoy. "Er. I asked what was going on. He said it wasn't my business. I asked if it had to do with Nagini; y'know, to make sure he's okay, and he said his health is fine. He told me if I wanted to stay I needed to stop talking, so I did. That's it."

"And he let you stay."

"Yeah."

Malfoy shook his head again, presumably in amazement. "Are you going back tonight with the same plan?"

Harry flushed again entirely against his will. "Um. Already kind of confirmed it. I messed up the Dreamless Sleep and he vanished it and I figured he was angry enough as it was, so I just said 'tomorrow at seven' expecting him to yell at me, only instead he just told me not to be late."

Malfoy stared at him. "Why the hell—okay, fine. Never mind. Why are you telling me all this again? I offered to get you time alone with him, but you've clearly got that under control."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. "Uh…"

Malfoy smiled slightly. "You need someone to talk to about this as much as he does. Your friends aren't cutting it?"

"No motives," Harry reminded him. "No explanations whatsoever."

"I could come in again, if you want," Malfoy offered. "Conveniently let something slip by accident? Remember, I'm being nice to Severus, not you."

"Don't you dare," Harry said sharply. "I mean, not that there's anything to let slip in the first place, but if you think there is, don't."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This is bloody ridiculous. Okay, well, I'm not allowed to say anything, so I'm going to give you something to think about: I keep comparing you two. How you're both idiots, and how I want him to be happy, and you to be nice to him. By spending time together." Malfoy stepped out of the alcove and started to walk away. "Just something to think about, Potter."

Harry watched Malfoy leave, then turned to look out the window. That was indeed something to think about. He sat down in the alcove, leaning against the wall and looking out the window. He had a suspicion he might be here for a while.

28

"Okay, fine," Hermione burst out suddenly, setting her pumpkin juice down so forcefully it nearly spilled. "Something happened, didn't it?"

"You don't want to hear about it," Harry said lightly. "You've made that perfectly clear. And lower your voice, someone could hear."

She glanced around the table. "No one's anywhere near here," she said, though she was quieter.

"And she didn't want to hear about it, not me," Ron replied in a brief moment where there wasn't food in his mouth. "You're going back to his office after dinner, right? You might as well fill us in now so we're not up all night."

Harry turned to Hermione. "That okay with you? I'm warning you, it involves encouragement."

She rested a hand on her temples. "Fine. But I'm not going to encourage you."

"We'll see," Harry replied. "It's—er—surprising."

Speaking quietly and continually looking around to make sure nobody was listening, Harry told them the story of his conversation with Malfoy. Hermione and Ron grew steadily quieter and quieter, eyes growing wider and wider, and even Ron stopped eating.

"I really, really, really don't want to say this, but I think Snape might fancy you," Ron said, looking disgusted. "I mean. That's just."

"No, stop," Hermione said. "That's not necessarily true. I admit he probably doesn't hate you, Harry. But the rest, that could mean anything, including that Draco is just messing with you."

"He doesn't mind spending time with me," Harry stated. "At the very least. That's good enough."

"No it isn't, don't be daft," Ron replied. "You're going to keep pushing because you're Harry Potter and you can't not push."

"I know, but still," Harry said. "That's way better than nothing. I'll be happy."

"No you won't," Hermione replied. "You won't be happy until you're shagging. Not even. You won't be happy until he's declared his love."

"Shut up," Harry hissed, looking around again. Nobody was paying any attention, at least not obviously. But Snape had very sharp ears, even if he was most of the table away. "Even if you're right, this is still better than nothing."

"Nn," Hermione protested anxiously. "I don't want you to get your hopes up, or get even more involved with something that isn't there. If he tossed you out and told you to never see him again now, that'd be really different than if you spend weeks working with him first."

"It's just brewing potions," Harry replied. "It's not like he talks to me or anything. There's nothing to get involved with, don't worry."

"But you think there is!" Hermione exclaimed quietly. "Just—be careful, okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Being careful and nice. I'm following everyone's directions, don't worry."

She sighed. "I always worry about you, Harry. You're very easy to worry about."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Hang on," Ron said slowly. "'Mione, don't dismiss this so quickly. There's definitely something strange going on."

"Strange," Harry echoed emphatically.

"Even if it's only that Snape tolerates you, that's definitely strange," Ron continued. "It seems like it's more, though. Really. I hate to say it, but it does. At least Malfoy thinks there's more, and presumably he's close to Snape. He definitely wouldn't be encouraging you of all people to spend more time with him unless he has a really good reason."

"Like humiliating Harry?" Hermione suggested.

"He's left me alone all year," Harry said. "He only started talking to me when I got detention, and he couldn't have figured anything out from that since I didn't have a choice."

"Still…"

"You're such a worrywart," Ron accused. "Let Harry have his fun."

Hermione glared at Ron. "I'm looking out for him!"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Really, I'm good."

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Hermione asked.

Harry stared at her. "Um, opening presents with you two, Christmas breakfast, hanging out in the common room, Christmas lunch, probably doing homework because you'll make us, Christmas dinner, maybe brewing with Snape, depending on how things go, then sleep? Why?"

She sighed again. "This is not me encouraging you," she said firmly. "But, if you're going to be seeing him on Christmas, you might want to take that into consideration."

Harry continued to stare in shock. "Are you—Hermione Granger—suggesting I get him a Christmas present?"

"No," she said. "Absolutely not. I'm just suggesting you have a plan."

"Well it's only Thursday," Harry said. "Christmas isn't until Saturday. That's, um, more than no time. Besides, you won't talk to me about plans. I'll ask Malfoy about it later."

"I'd rather you talk to me than him," Hermione replied. "At least I know my own motives."

Harry couldn't deny that. "What do you think, then?"

She frowned lightly. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

"You should get him something from the joke shop," Ron said.

"You always say that," Harry replied.

"Well it's always a good idea," he said.

"For Snape," Harry said. "Pranks for Christmas for Snape."

Ron took a very large bite of dinner, and Harry smiled indulgently.

"Sure, Ron. Whatever you say."