The following day, agents from the CIUM and the Ministry of Defense appeared out of no where and knocked on Ash's front door. There were four of them, looking as casual as tourists on holiday, even the wizards. Their clothes reminded Harry of American golfers and he nearly spat out his toast when he saw them enter the dining room. Plaid dungarees, a fishing cap, and white loafers practically screamed "failed incognito." This was someone's idea of looking as far from "The Men in Black" as possible, and it struck Harry as pretty conspicuous. Two of the men showed their credentials, while the wizards simply flashed their wands. Harry recognized them as the ones who had questioned him a few days after waking up and knew what they were there for.

He waited outside of Snape's room. He was unwilling to leave Snape alone with any stranger in his condition. It wasn't until Snape had the door opened and called through it, "Leave us alone. I wish to make my report privately."

This was so blunt, Harry wondered if he'd done something to offend Snape. He shrank away respectfully, but waited around the corner at the head of the stairs. A hand touched his arm.

Ash stood next to him wearing sunglasses and a hat that dangled bits of cork around the wide brim. It honestly reminded him of Jipsy in a delightful way.

"What'd you say to giving me a hand in the garden?" he asked.

He was carrying four large buckets and the 'Maybe later,' on Harry's tongue, stopped before it came out. Harry came to his senses. The people in Snape's room had worked very closely with him to rescue them, they weren't going to hurt Snape. And being the capable person that he was, Harry was sure that Snape could handle himself if they tried, injury or no. That's partly why he didn't feel too bad about the setback he'd caused for him. At most, it was an inconvenience, not really harmful. That's what he kept telling himself. And look at all the injurious bullying Snape had done to him in his cave, when he'd begged Snape for help. This wasn't worse than that, he justified and defended his deceptive actions. Still, if Snape got seriously hurt because of him…

Ash knocked his plastic white buckets together. The empty five gallon things clattered, shaking Harry out of his spinning thoughts.

"I got a mean harvest coming in. It's going to make the dinner table look like a banquet over the next month. What'd do you say? Our resident professor can manage without us for a few hours."

Harry didn't want to, but Ash had opened his home to them and was being amazingly generous. He had tried to pay him, but Ash confided that money appeared in his business account for 'medical home services' shortly after agreeing to lend his home to the hiding and recovery of the two. He'd assumed that it came from one of the agencies in charge of the rescue mission. They mentioned he'd be compensated, but no one specified the figure of £39,630 dumped into his account overnight. That was easily half a year's wages, if it was an exceedingly profitable year.

Money or not, Ash was still putting forth the daily efforts for three people, and Harry knew he should help. Since he wasn't working in his office, he'd given Reuse, his cleaning lady a few more weeks off. But she still popped in and out with cooked dishes and had even gotten Harry to tell her more stories about Snape.

"He's such an interesting wizard. If I'd gone to a school like yours, I wouldn't have accomplished a thing for staring at that handsome ensemble day after day. He's so put together." She sounded wistful as she chopped a salad into creation. "Lucky snots."

Harry laughed at her term for spoiled magical kids who didn't know how good they had it. She was a very attractive woman and he tried not to look at her legs. She seemed to think they were her greatest asset and drew attention to them with weird hosiery and short skirts. That day they appeared black with silvery glitter that caught the light. Once he found out that she was a seamstress and designed all of her clothes, he understood her need to be seen a little better and enjoyed her breezy, non-committal appearances. She liked to gossip as well, so he made a mental note to ask her what she knew about Ash and Snape later on.

Outside, the day was spectacularly sunny and mild, and the morning air perfect for the time it would take to fill up those buckets. The garden was only maybe four by four kilometers, but even Harry could see that it was over flowing with vividly colored vegetables. Ash pointed out the areas ripe with cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, and sweet potatoes.

"I had no idea it would yield this much. I haven't had a garden in years."

"Really?" Harry put on the gloves he'd been given and squatted beside him. "It looks like you knew you'd have company."

"No, I knew I'd need company. I started this to take my mind of things."

The way he said it, they both knew that "things" meant Snape. Ash showed him what to do and they began filling up the buckets.

"I love a fresh, raw cucumber," Ash muttered and Harry waited out his apprehension. He wanted to ask about that kiss, but couldn't quite bring himself to pry. He worked diligently beside him, asking once, "Would you like for me to use my magic to try to gather all this up?"

Ash laughed, "Gosh no. I appreciate it, but that would defeat the purpose. This kind of work clears the mind. Vegetables don't talk back. My grandfather planted whole fields and said it was a kind of meditation. Kept him peaceful inside. Fed the whole village that way."

Harry considered this. Could he and Draco garden like this one day? A country house, three kids, the whole fairy tale bit? It sounded nice and he didn't challenge him on it. He smiled to himself. Where that second and third kid came from, he didn't know, but it felt good to finally feel good enough to dream. Even if it was a silly fantasy. They were barely getting by with one child. No wonder Draco needed time away from him periodically. Their lives were whirlwinds and Ash's idea of simplicity felt awfully appealing.

He suddenly remembered that Ash had had two wives and two children. He blurted, "Did you and your wife go into it knowing you were going to have two children?"

From where he knelt, Ash laughed under his breath. "God, no. Where'd that come from?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know what I'm doing with one. I just wonder how people with much bigger families handle all the chaos."

"It's not really chaos. It just looks like that from the outside. Families have their own order, and the sooner you learn to let things fall into place, the smoother it goes. We didn't know we could handle two kids until we'd done it. I would've liked to have more, but…"

His voice trailed off and Harry figured he was thinking about his divorce and ensuing complications with his last wife's health.

"What makes you ask? You thinking of settling down?"

Harry smirked, stopping short of rolling his eyes. "I guess you don't know that much about me." He supposed that if Ash had the means to follow the trial through wizarding media, he hadn't accurately piece together all the facts.

"I know you have a child with that young man. Draco. Cool name, by the way. I gather things have been rocky and you haven't had much of a home life, what with all that war stuff your people were facing."

"Did you follow the trial at all?"

"I stopped reading when it started to sound like tabloid sensationalism. That fella of yours went through a rough patch. Nobody needed to know his secrets that badly. I felt bad for him and I couldn't listen anymore. Three weeks later, I'm being asked to hide you and Snape. Yeah, I must've missed something."

Harry decided that this was pretty decent of Ash, so he took a deep breath and let him have the truth. "Draco's and my child is my baby. I had her with my own body."

Ash stopped what he was doing, frozen.

"More magic shit, right? Or rather, a very nasty curse", Harry continued. "During the war, both of us were attacked with a curse that alters our genders. Draco learned to control his, it happened to him early on. His father was a Death Eater, and attacked me. My daughter was born from all of that. She's a normal, sweet little girl and I hunted down Snape to help her. I wanted to confirm that he was still alive for myself, but we needed his help because Iece, that's her name, was getting sick and I thought he knew more about helping her than anyone, because my curse was affecting her. Snape is good with curses."

He took Ash's silence to mean that it was okay to continue.

"So settling down with Draco has been nearly impossible with all that's gone on. I let him take her away, for safety, and to find out if they're really more stable without me. If he lets me back into his life, I'm just wondering what the future holds?"

He couldn't see Ash turning purple beside him, suppressing a great deal of emotion behind the facade of a straight face.

"I think I've figured out a way to help Draco with the curse. Once I fix his body, we'll regain a level of stability we haven't had in almost three years. He's learned that he's terrific with kids. We might adopt if we can get it together long enough. I know we don't deserve them, but it's a nice thought. You're a successful father, I just thought I'd get some advice."

Harry peered sideways at Ash. "You should see the look on your face. Did I say too much?"

He added, "You know about our magic, you've seen a little of our world, I guess I was hoping it wouldn't be too upsetting for you. I can't seem to talk to Snape at all. He's got his shield up again and I just needed someone to really talk to. You seem more open than the average person. I figure you're not overwhelmed by us because you've raised kids. I said too much, sorry. And I'm sorry for everything. For picking you up that night and making out with you. That was just stray energy. I didn't target you. I had no idea that you were friends with Snape. He would be the center of the fucking universe, wouldn't he? Leaving us to collide the way we did. Like planets on the same orbit around him."

Ash thought about this. He was a little impressed with Harry's analogy.

He sighed. "I can't help it. Since I was eleven, I thought he hated my guts more than the Dursley's. That's my old family. Then I find out that he's been protecting me my whole life. He's the one person who really did love me, but it was always too risky for him to let me know. Then I thought he'd actually been murdered because of me. When I suspected that he was alive, I had to go after him. I put everything and everyone at risk to go chasing someone who wanted nothing to do with me. I don't deserve to be a father."

Ash knew that this was his cue to reassure Harry, but he was still stuck on the mental explosion he had caused a few minutes earlier. A curse? The very same curse that had him questioning Snape's true gender several years ago when he patched him up from that snake bite? Snape had nearly said as much at the time, but he made such light of it, that Ash felt abashed just for being curious. Like he was the pervert or something. Was Harry telling him that these wizards were such blooming idiots that cursing each other's junk, was as rampant and recreational as football? Nasty, but indulged in by all? Is that how casual they all were about it, just because they were magic? He'd heard some of what that Malfoy kid said about his body, but he couldn't say that he'd fully comprehended it. He was too disgusted by the parent's shenanigans, that he hadn't been able to stomach any more details.

He tried wrapping his mind around this as Harry continued talking. "But here I am. My daughter deserves the best I have to give, so I'm up for it. I feel like I've woken up to a new life."

Ash couldn't help himself. "Severus was affected by that same curse?"

Harry's face tensed. "Yeah. A generation apart."

He turned to Harry. "Help me to understand how so many people in one place becomes a victim to this? I mean, is it an underlying kink or what?"

Harry would've rather not gone into the bit where his father played a part. "I don't know. With great power comes great perversions, I guess. Don't muggles get back at each other all the time? Some people throw punches. Wizards throw curses, debilitating, humiliating, and deadly. If you had the power to do anything you wanted, to someone who got under your skin, you're not exactly in a rational frame of mind to turn the other cheek, are you?"

"I've walked away from a fight before, in hopes of being the better man," Ash defended. "It's possible."

"So have I, but I bet you didn't walk away from all of them. And I bet you can remember a time when you were so pissed off, or under the influence of pride, that if you'd had magic, you would've used it without a thought for cruel perversions."

He wasn't wrong, so Ash led him in a different direction. "Well, you should forgive yourself for chasing after Severus. If you hadn't, maybe you'd still be trying to get your daughter back."

That was the truth and it made Harry feel better.

They filled their buckets and headed back up to check on Snape. Those agents had already left and Snape was leaning on crutches staring out of the window. As it turned out, Ash did have a pair from an old ankle injury. After Harry altered them to accommodate Snape, they came in very handy for him. He couldn't quite manage the stairs, but at least got up and down the hall by himself. And since he couldn't apparate, and had to rely on Harry if he wanted to enjoy Ash's screened in porch or join them downstairs for lunch, every second of his independence was more precious than gold. The time limit he'd given Harry to confess, came and went without a word, and still he suffered the restrictions placed upon his body without complaint.

When dinner time came, he allowed Harry to apparate him downstairs and exercised his strength by straining around the house looking at all of Ash's collections and family photos. He noticed that the pain never really intensified unless he became determined to walk normally. Dinner was mostly silent, with Ash bringing every attempt Harry made to speak to Snape, back around to how fresh the vegetables tasted. Snape ate perfunctorily as Harry sat across from him and Ash to his right. Though he made no effort to cooperate in conversation, he inclined his head and listened each time Ash made another clumsy statement about the food or some heirloom recipe.

"It's quite good," Snape granted him, finally.

Ash welcomed this bit of appreciation and revealed a bit more self-satisfaction than he meant to upon being blessed by Snape's approval.

Harry, on the other hand, sensed an increasing frigidity between his efforts at conversation and Snape's refusal to look at him. Guilt made the back of his neck itch. He scratched it away and promised to do the dishes for Ash. That wasn't saying much. They all knew he'd use his magic to square everything away, but Ash was still thankful.

Snape was the first to excuse himself and would've attempted to climb the stairs if Harry hadn't stopped him at the foot of the landing.

"What do you think you're doing? Let me help."

Snape looked as though he was suddenly inspired to words best prevented from escaping his mouth. He paused and took a moment to recalculate his response. "Are you helping, Harry? Or do you have some other agenda?"

Harry stopped in shock. "What?"

"I would rather you speak the foulest thoughts in your mind than hide behind this cowardly ruse. What exactly are you playing at?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." It was true. There was no visible trace of Harry's interference with Snape's leg and so he was convinced that whatever Snape was going on about, it certainly wasn't that.

Sape stared him down. "You now embody the Elder Wand. You want to keep me here, and so your magic suppresses my own. For now. Be warned, any barrier that you devise, another person's magic has the ability to learn its way around it. Your power is neither supreme nor omniscient and it's only a matter of time before you are revealed to be as corrupt as your father."

That hurt.

Instead of admitting anything, Harry watched as Snape turned his back to him, gripped the banister and pulled himself up as he held the crutches in the other hand. He never made a sound but Harry saw his shoulders draw inward against the pain every time his weight shifted to his knee. It was as if he dared Harry to bear the sight of him without confessing, and that's exactly what Harry did.

You're as stubborn as I am, Harry thought angrily. Snape's self-reliance was nothing more than a slap in the face. This was the part where he was supposed to let Harry help him. Nothing about this was supposed to be cruel.

That night, Harry kept finding excuses to walk past Snape's closed door. Whether it was bringing dessert back to his room or changing all the trash linings on the second floor, or using the vacuum cleaner as he vowed to assume some muggle responsibilities while being hosted in Ash's home. When he couldn't ignore the light under the door any longer, he leaned against it and knocked cautiously.

"Please let me in. We need to talk."

He thought he heard a long, exasperated sigh before the knob released itself. He knew it. Snape could use his magic, he was just pretending, wasn't he? Maybe he really was weak, but he was far from helpless and Harry had no intention of confessing right away.

He entered, finding Snape in a long, dark green sleep shirt with matching trousers, sitting atop his covers. Two bedside lamps emitted soft gold light surrounding the bed, while the rest of the room receded into cozy darkness. He put down his copy of The Daily Prophet, but not before Harry spotted a picture of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy on the cover. They looked to be standing on the steps outside the Ministry's investigative headquarters. The caption read, Malfoys Deflect Trial Allegations, Lucius Returns Home. The photo disappeared from view as Snape slapped the paper on his lap and waited for Harry to say something.

"You're still reading that tabloid? I never would've thought that."

"Yes, well, Ash's book collection is rather lacking. Until I get my hands on my own, his subscriptions will have to do."

Harry found himself amazed, not only that Snape's tone was civil, but that he realized he'd hardly thought about Lucius at all and still didn't know whether the git was alive or dead. He liked to assume that he was.

"How recent is that?"

"It came out yesterday." He skimmed the text before folding it and setting it aside. "Apparently, Mr. Hastings has retained his subscription to our media."

It took Harry a second to realize that was Ash's last name.

"So Lucius made it out? How?" Not that he gave a shit, he just wanted to know. He hoped he was being quite casual as he slipped into the chair beside the bed. Snape seemed more weary than angry at the moment and he suspected that the newspaper contributed to a rather sleepy state, which might've been the reason Snape was reading it. Just the tonic he needed, perhaps.

"It's apparent that the queen saved him just as she saved me. We were both cast out of that temple system at the critical moment. Lucius recovered in a hospital and I, here."

"Oh," Harry scratched his head, recalling the injured queen and her crumbling cavern. "She died, right? And her daughter survived? Did the little girl save us?"

Snape answered dryly, "That was no child. All the knowledge possessed by the mother was passed to the offspring preternaturally. This created a second queen, splitting and weakening the group consciousness. This is why her people were able to rebel so strongly."

"That's so sad. All she wanted was a kid."

"There's nothing sad about it. Because of her, her entire species will evolve to possess the ability. And she lives on, very practically, in a younger, healthier body. She realized only at the last minute what she'd done to her people."

Harry leaned forward, eager to keep him talking. "And how long did it take you to realize it?" Snape must've known early on, but it wasn't something he knew he could convince her of.

"I knew as soon as I understood her connection with the earth around her. Her race rose out of that and continued to thrive within it. Her biology genetically wired her people to her emotions and thoughts. She watched humans and grew envious. She despaired little by little for eons, until she found a way to act on her loneliness. It wasn't company she craved, it was compatibility. To her level of thinking, her people were drone-like in their responses to her. She became enamored of those creatures with greater individually and loosened her hold on her racial blueprint.

"Her temple reflected her inner wounds, for she could not fathom all the layers of reality that her emotions affected. It was something of an awakening for her."

Harry considered this as Snape continued.

"She wanted a child so badly, for so many centuries, that she caused a rift in her identity. This resulted in a rift among her people, which resulted in war. The old queen did indeed die from her injuries, but opened her eyes, born anew, in that childish body. Then she finally understood what she had done. Her daughter was never going to wake up as long as she was the elder queen. Only one of them could operate their shared consciousness at a time, because their race was genetically predisposed to possess only one queen and to obey only one queen. When the old body died, all of her powers fully transferred to the daughter, who became the singular queen. I was not awake to see it, but from your report, the queen did her utmost to thrust us out in time, ensuring our survival, before cleansing the corruption among her people with all of that blue fire. I believe she survived to start again."

Harry almost sank in the exhaustion he remembered from his efforts to stay conscious. Those last minutes had been brutal, and he shook off the memory, refusing to indulge it for one minute longer. They didn't belong in that world and he was glad to put it behind him. But he also hoped that Snape was right and that the queen had survived.

"Learn from her," Snape added. "Burn your demons and start over with a clean slate."

Harry looked at him, rubbing his hands together. "That's exactly what I'm doing," he shrugged.

"No, you're not. You begged me to help your daughter."

"You know her named. Use it."

"Now I have done so. You have everything you need from me. Just because you can't be with Draco at the moment, doesn't mean you can't be off and finding something meaningful to do. Some purpose. Resume your lectures, your athletics, whatever you have to do to fill the emptiness. Don't do anything to act from unresolved feelings, or you will keep cycling ever downward and lose the ability to find your way out of your own hell."

Harry denied what he was hearing with a shake of his head. "You've misunderstood. I'm happy. I have let things go. I even found something that's damn near good as a cure. I could cure all of us. I feel stronger and better than I've felt in a long time. My life has great purpose and everything I've been through, feels resolved, or close to it."

This last was for not being near Draco at the moment.

Snape aimed his gravest stare at Harry. "Then why are you doing this to me?"

It took all of Harry's willpower not to give in. He could've asked, Why are you letting me do it?, but that would've given away more than he wanted to.

"I'm just trying to catch up with you, to thank you, to get to know something about the real you, before you leave be behind."

"You don't get to decide my limitations, Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter? Really?"

"You don't get to be my savior. You don't get to surpass your father's influence on how I feel about you. I admit. I care for you. I've helped you. Now let me go."

Harry rolled his eyes. It was so like Snape to complicate affection. "Now who's being dramatic? I didn't even bring my father up. And since when do you ask anyone's permission?"

This display of what looked like unfamiliar docility, rubbed Harry the wrong way. This wasn't the Snape he wanted to talk to. This wasn't Snape at all.

Snape said, "I'm not asking for permission. I'm urging you to do what's best for your sanity. You hold on to things for far too long. Especially pain. I fear that being raised with the expectation of standing up for so many, you don't know what to do with yourself if you're not caught in some struggle."

"So you and everyone else keep telling me. You're the one who won't have anything to do with me because of whatever demons are running loose in your mind. I was literally attacked by your seventeen year-old self."

"You were literally trespassing into my most personal thoughts. Be glad you made it out."

"The point is, I'm not holding on to anything. I know what you're holding on to, and holding against me. I wasn't going to mention it, out of respect, but if you want to talk about the elephant in the room, go ahead. My father and his friends did something unforgivable. Just remember, you brought it up."

Snape pointed his nose at him and said with clipped precision, "I saved you the effort. We both know why you've kept me here. You want to fix everything he did wrong, including what you saw in the portrait. Stop attempting to police things that you don't understand. Some things can't be fixed. Let it go. Let me go."

"I'm not stopping you from leaving. I mean, I want to, but I'm not really. If you can't walk, it's because subconsciously you want to stay. You're no one's victim. Even back then, you said you volunteered your body to get revenge. You're one of the most powerful wizards I've ever known. I want to see you get out of this slump and leave, if you dare, of your own accord. Do whatever it takes. Fight me if you have to. Just don't lay there pretending that you need my permission for anything."

He only had a second to see Snape's angry glare, before he felt himself yanked forward from his seat and the next thing he knew, his collar was twisted in Snape's grip.

"I'm not going to tell you again," Snape's lips shaped his words with exaggeration. "I am not asking anyone's permission. I am giving you a chance to do the right thing. I assure you, when I get ready to leave, I'll leave. The question is, how would you like us to part? As enemies? After all this? As I recover, my magic recovers with me. But my knee is saturated in someone else's magic, magic that won't budge, and I will not tolerate being lied to by the one I risked everything for, to save him and his child. You say you honor me, then why do your actions disrespect me?"

His large fist held on, pinching Harry's throat and compromising his air. Harry gasped, "I'm not doing it on purpose. I didn't mean to, I just wanted you to stay and my magic obeyed me. It wasn't deliberate. When I saw what had happened, I thought that you must've agreed to it on some level. I'll fix it. I'll take it away."

Snape released him and shoved him away.

Harry held his neck. "You and I stayed at each other's throats during school, while you were sacrificing everything for me. I just wanted to finally spend some time with you as an adult. While neither one of us have to run anymore. As an equal."

Snape responded, "You must give yourself the validation that you seek from me. And you were not the only student I protected when I made my choices. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of lives depended on my secrecy."

"And what about the years since then? You pulled me out of that train wreck. You stood up for me in court and practically shut the place down. Then you risk your life to get Iece back. And that's just the stuff I know about. Well, I'm sorry, but no one does that much for me and walks away like nothing happened. As far as I'm concerned, you're closer to me than family. Or you should be family. You've shown me more love, when I didn't even know it, than the Dursley's showed me my whole life. I gotta just let you disappear again? No way."

His voice broke as it got louder. "You're all I have. You can't leave me. Why does everybody leave me?"

"Calm yourself."

He only got louder. "They call me a hero, the chosen one, but what does that really mean? It means I'm fated to have everyone I love driven away by the danger I pose. The one person who's as good at surviving danger as I am at attracting it… the one person who knew my parents and at least was best friends with my mum… You go all the way back. You helped me become a man. You made a fool out of Voldemort. You made him your bitch!"

He clenched his fists. "You're that strong, and yet you still look at me, calculate the risk, and run away. Yeah, you helped, but you're still terrified to be with me in any real capacity. That fucking hurts. What is it about me that drives the bravest man I've ever known, away? You prefer a cold, black cave rather than become a guest in my home for two days? I would love to have you over. You should want me in your life. You should want to be a part of my family. Or at least be able to talk to me without the urge to run in the opposite direction. But you're not. So yes, I find that upsetting."

When he finished, he was heaving. His words were sinking in as they heard a knock at the door.

"Is everything all right in there?" Ash called.

Snape answered. "It's fine. Harry and I are catching up."

He waited to see if Harry had anything else to say. When all he got were glares and heavy breathing in the aftermath of that emotional spew, he considered his next words.

"It isn't like you to do this. I merely wanted you to own up to your actions and motives like an adult. If you lack the maturity to negotiate my stay, then you do not deserve it. Don't forget, you are still who you are, and so am I. We are still hunted people, however successful this last escapade has been. Infamy will follow us all our lives, depending on which side of the war our detractors are on. The safest thing I can do for you, is get away from you. And vice versa."

Harry wasn't falling for it. "All the more reason for us to cherish what time we have together."

The corner of Snape's mouth pinched. "Fine. Remove the injury and I will consider staying on for another week."

Disbelief came before a burst of happiness as Harry realized he'd just won an argument with Snape.

"Really?"

Snape merely waited, expectantly.

"Okay, okay," Harry started, holding up his hand for Snape to be patient with him. "Hang on. This may take a minute."

He knew that sounded unconvincing, since it had taken only a split second to cause the damage. But all of this was new to him and since he really wanted to do it, now there was the prospect of failing, when it wasn't an issue before.

He concentrated, blocking out Snape's looming judgment and creating the dial in his mind. He super imposed the mental image over Snape's outstretched leg, right at the knee. He saw the dial turned clockwise to the point he'd left it in it's injured state. All he had to do was turn it backwards to it's beginning point. Maybe it was nerves, maybe he was doing it too fast, it kept blinking in and out of is mind's eye. He saw the dial assume it's proper position, but he knew he was forcing it. He didn't quite feel the trance-like connection with it that he'd had before. When he couldn't think of anything else to do, he encouraged Snape to try standing on it.

"See if that worked," he said anxiously.

Snape gave it a try, wincing when he could barely raise himself to stand at all.

"Okay. Let me try again."

He did try again. And again. Snape said nothing as Harry fell into panicked exertion as he tried to reverse his magic on him. Instead of becoming upset, Snape became observational and a little
analytical. He let Harry figure out on his own that the problem was not going to be fixed today.

Harry was sweating and confused when he put his hands on his hips and looked apologetically at his former teacher. "I swear, this was simple, I barely thought it before it happened. And now I can't get it to budge."

Snape spoke very calmly. "Tell me everything that happened in your mind when you first did it. Every detail."

Harry did, taking his seat again. He even described the feelings he felt and went into a bumbling discourse about why he thought his magic was off.

"Um, give me a little more time. I think I'm trying too hard, I know this should work. I've been using this dial for other things and it always works. I feel terrible that my magic did this to you, so maybe that's a factor. Maybe it's my confidence. I'll work on it. I'll clear my conscience. I'll fix this, I promise."

Harry's string of promises and reassurances sounded like block text being read by an artificial voice. It hit Snape's ear in a meaningless stream of soundbites that forecast physical pain for the next foreseeable future, or until he figured out a way to solve the problem himself. No doubt he would have to be clever about bypassing Harry's enormous ego defenses and trip the switch on whatever Elder Wand high jinks were afoot deep inside Harry's thick, stubborn cranium.

Harry's pitiful attempts at justifying his failure, ran into a tailspin before sputtering to a halt as he exhausted all ideas on why he couldn't get it to work. He fell silent.

Snape did nothing to cushion the sound of Harry's deflated ego. He poured himself water from the picture beside his bed and sipped with a hint of satisfaction.

"Just yell at me, already," demanded Harry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times if I have to. I didn't mean to hurt you like this."

"No, you meant to hurt me in a way that was fully in your control. What you are sorry for, is that apparent loss of control."

"Fine," Harry despaired. There was nothing for him to do but suck it up until he figured this out. "If I screwed up just because I wanted to stay near you, I'll gladly take that blame. Guess there's nothing else for me to do but make you comfortable."

Snape rebuked his ability to recover so quickly from guilt. "My comfort is not the issue. Do you see how your arrogance lands on its feet once again? Do you see why the sight of you poses such challenges for me? And now you expect me to be content with you as my nursemaid? Mr. Potter, and yes that is a deliberate choice to reestablish boundaries between us, I have never required the frivolous psychological comfort that you ascribe to and I never will. So the apologetic bandage you have slapped over the exposure of your wrongdoing, hardly compensates me."

He paused. "It is pointless to strain what neural wattage is available to you, towards my comfort, and better to apply it to returning to your room and figuring out a solution. So no, I will not be comforted by any effort that you make."

Harry listened, shielding his wounded pride with folded arms. When Snape's mouth pressed closed in finality, he stood again and said, "Challenge accepted."

He left Snape staring after him, knowing he was too stubborn to ask or care what Harry meant by that.