Chapter 22

The trust issue seemed to have resolved itself, noticed Minerva with amusement and exasperation. Harry not only wasn't glaring at Severus through narrowed eyes anymore, but looked genuinely concerned for his Potions Professor. It was plain that he didn't want the man to risk his life for him, and that he felt grateful even though the sacrifice would most likely be in vain.

Honestly, if Severus still hated the boy after this Minerva was going to transfigure him into an ice cube and throw him into a volcano.

Assuming that he was still alive after this, that is.

Minerva felt deeply pessimistic about the whole thing. Part of her was wondering how she would explain to Dumbledore and the Ministry to have the bodies of Harry Potter and Severus Snape lying on her office. Assuming that Dumbledore was still alive in the morning, of course, and that the Ministry was still standing after the sudden deaths of the Minister for Magic and two Heads of Department.

This was madness.

She reminded herself that this was all probably just a waste of effort and worry that would come to nothing. Harry was unhelpable, so most likely Minerva would not be able to officiate as Bonder or Severus would not be able to agree to any clause. After a few frustrating hours, they would send Harry to bed and on Tuesday they would hope for the best.

Potter seemed almost done with his letters, she saw. It had taken a while, but Severus had been uncharacteristically patient, not hurrying or insulting the boy once. Perhaps he felt guilty for not having allowed him the chance to say goodbye to his friends in person?

Harry had seemed to completely assimilate the reality of his imminent death the moment that he had been advised to write his final letters. Minerva had had a hard time not breaking apart at that sight, and she was pretty sure that Severus had not been completely immune to those green eyes full of grief.

When she had offered his colleague to deliver his letters too, he had declined saying that he didn't have anything nice to say to anyone alive. That was sad.

"If you two are ready, I think we can begin," said Minerva once the boy had put all his letters inside an envelope (that she had promised to give to Miss Granger without opening it if he died).

Severus gave a curt nod. Harry gulped and also nodded.

"How is it done, Professor?" he asked nervously.

"Well, Potter, an Unbreakable Vow is a very ancient ritual that requires three people to be performed. The Vower is the one who makes the vow, in this case Professor Snape. The Recipient is the one who the vow is made to, in this case you. I will be the Bonder, hopefully binding you two in a powerful magical contract. The procedure is simple. You will both be kneeling face to face, your right hands intertwined under my wand. You, Harry, will ask a few promises from him, and Severus will swear to keep them. If it works, there will be visible evidence of the Vow taking hold, then I will have the chance to seal it, and ideally you will both be alive at the end."

Ideally.

Minerva had hoped never to have to bind nor witness another Unbreakable Vow in her life, but here she was. Officiating in the most hopeless Vow anyone had ever attempted to swear.

"So, when exactly are we likely to die?" asked the boy in a calm voice. It really was unnerving how calm he sounded. The fear and anguish were plain in his eyes, but the rest of him hardly betrayed anything.

The question had been directed at Severus, who shrugged.

"You will probably die when our hands touch, or when I agree or try to agree to the first clause, or when Professor McGonagall tries to seal the clauses. If the Vow takes, both of us or at least I will probably drop dead before our hands separate. If nobody dies by that point, then we probably won't die until Tuesday."

Harry nodded. Minerva willed herself to be strong.

"Let us all remember to be patient," she said. "The Goblet of Fire will no doubt try to stop the Vow at each step of the way."

This is madness, she thought again as she went to retrieve the stack of parchment on which she and Severus had been working for a day and a night. They had come up with over fifty different formulations.

And I used to be a sensible person!

She took a deep breath to ground herself while she bade a silent goodbye to Albus Dumbledore, just in case.

"Here is the first draft, Potter," she said handing him one sheet of parchment. "Ideally, this would be the content of the Vow. You must read one clause at a time, very clearly and in an interrogative tone, and then wait for Professor Snape to agree and for my magic to seal the clause. Then you will read the next one, and so on. It is highly unlikely that this formulation will pass, but we will try it first nonetheless to see what happens. If you can't read them or Professor Snape can't accept them, then we will change the clauses and try again. We have redacted several different formulations. If Professor Snape manages to agree to one set of clauses, then I will try to pronounce the last one to seal the Vow as a whole. Now on your knees, you two."

Severus knelt where he was in an elegant whirl of black robes that made quite obvious that the man knew how to kneel. Of course he does. As instructed, Harry went to him and, in a much more clumsier way and plainly trying —and failing— to copy Severus' elegancy, knelt in front of his Potions Professor. They both very slowly rolled up their right sleeves to clear their hands, neither of them in any rush to die. Harry dried his no doubt sweaty palms on his robes, and seemed to check several times that he still had the sheet of clauses in his left hand. Now for the first time the boy was betraying quite a lot of nerves, visibly procrastinating the moment when he would have to lock hands with his Professor. Oddly, Severus didn't snap at him, he simply waited.

Potter finally raised his hand, but didn't yet reach for Severus' already proffered one. Instead his head turned to face Minerva, and those Lily eyes unexpectedly smiled at her.

"Just so you know, you were always my favourite teacher, Professor," he said.

Minerva almost choked.

"It was my pleasure to have you in my House, Harry," she managed to say through her obstructed throat. "Despite everything."

He made a face at the reminder of "everything", looking nostalgic. He became serious again before facing Severus.

"And you were my less favourite, Professor," he said. "But thank you anyway, for this."

For a wild instant Minerva felt sure that the man would betray some emotion, but he didn't. Instead he just nodded.

"You were a pain in the ass, Potter," he said. "Enough sentimentality, let's die already."

The boy must be really stressed out, because he smiled. It was a brief smile, but enough to shock Severus, who for an instant didn't seem to know what do with his face.

A moment later Harry's eyes were fixed on Severus' hand, staring at it as if it were death itself while he slowly reached for it with his own. Severus' eyes were, of course, fixed on Lily's, no doubt wanting to witness the exact moment when they turned off. Minerva could almost hear her own heart beating wildly.

The three of them let out a breath of relief when finally the hands touched and no one dropped dead. Even Severus had difficulty rearranging his features after that stressful moment. Minerva felt like crying or laughing or fainting or yelling.

She was definitely too old for this.

Once he recovered from the near-death experience, Harry lifted the parchment as if to begin reading, but Severus stopped him with a shake of his head. It was Minerva's turn.

She forced herself to focus. This is not about Harry. Just help Severus. He really needs this. Just help Severus. Only Severus.

It probably took her only a few minutes, but it felt like an hour. Vower and Recipient waited in silence. Severus was watching her intently with his dark, deep eyes full of determination and bitterness. Just help Severus. It wasn't hard to want to help him seeing those tormented eyes.

Finally, she managed to touch their linked hands with her wand and pour her magic into them.

"Thank you," said Severus solemnly.

"You will owe me for this, if you survive," she said in response. Christmas decorations, perhaps.

He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Go on, Potter," he pressed. "You still have plenty opportunities to die tonight."

Harry took a deep breath and held the sheet of parchment at eye level with his left hand. Before he began reading, however, he looked Severus in the eye once more.

"Are you sure, sir?" he asked.

"I will give you detention if you ask that again, Potter," he snapped. "Just read."

The boy nodded and read.

"Will you, Severus Snape, advice and counsel me as I attempt to survive the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry's eyes met Severus' again, expectantly. Seconds passed, and then more seconds. Severus' jaw remained furiously clenched. Finally, he shook his head.

Well, at least Harry was still alive. The boy looked disappointed, but he cleared his throat and read the next clause.

"Will you, Severus Snape, train me in whatever ability you deem useful to help me survive the Triwizard Tournament?"

Again, there was no answer. Harry waited until Severus shook his head to read the next one.

"Will you, Severus Snape, help me survive the tasks that the Goblet of Fire sets for me?"

This time no one expected anything to happen, and so they weren't terribly disappointed when Severus couldn't agree to the clause.

Minerva withdrew her wand while they released each other. By the way they both rubbed at their hands, it must have been quite a firm grasp.

"Well, we didn't really expect this formulation to work," commented Minerva, exchanging Harry's parchment with another one.

"At least I didn't die yet," said the boy almost cheerfully.

"Next one," growled Severus.

After that first, really intense and nerve-wracking attempt, the whole process quickly became mechanic and increasingly frustrating.

By the fourth try Minerva had already gotten the hang of it and she no longer had trouble focusing on Severus when it came the time to take her place as Bonder.

By the tenth try Severus finally accepted her advice of relaxing his jaw and not getting so angry each time he couldn't answer.

Good a kneeler as he might be, Severus was no longer so young, so by the fifteenth attempt he requested a break, daring them with a dangerous look to comment on his weakness. Harry was visibly relieved by the chance to stretch his legs, and after that Minerva transfigured a really thick, fluffy carpet so they could do their kneeling more comfortably (of course she had to focus on Severus' knees, not Harry's).

Their hands were also suffering, to such degree that by the twentieth attempt they made a break only to return some circulation to them by shaking or rubbing them.

By three in the morning Harry had learned how to kneel almost as expertly as Severus, and had become fluent in formulation jargon.

Despite the general frustration, the atmosphere became more and more relaxed as the hours went by and Severus and Harry grew accustomed to each other. Of course Severus constantly growled and snapped at the boy, but Harry seemed to mind less by the minute and sometimes he even rolled his eyes in response (which elicited more growling and snapping). No doubt being both constantly about to die together brought them closer. It especially seemed to be making a difference the fact that they were both constantly worried about the other dropping dead. After two hours Severus had grown weary of keeping up his Occlumency mask all the time, so she could see the fear in his eyes every time they did something that might be provoking the Goblet of Fire. And it was plain that Harry was half-wishing that the Vow would not take so Severus would not drop dead at the end.

They tried formulation after formulation after formulation. Sometimes they paused to make modifications to the clauses. Severus' mood deteriorated with each passing attempt, just as his uneasiness increased. He was afraid none would take, Minerva knew, but also that he would manage to swear a set of too unspecific clauses. Unbreakable Vows were dangerous things, and the prospect of keeping it was becoming increasingly unpleasant. By the thirtieth attempt they had ceased mentioning the Goblet or the Tournament in the clauses, as well as the words "help", "advise", "training" and "survive". The time limit of the Vow was also suffering alterations, to Severus' deep irritation.

They ran out of formulations around four in the morning. Severus had been unable to agree to any clause so far, and was beyond frustrated.

"Maybe... Maybe it's time to give up," suggested Harry carefully.

It wasn't the first time he suggested it, but in the last half hour it had become extremely dangerous to say anything to Severus, so the boy was wary.

Minerva expected the man to angrily reject such notion, like every time before, perhaps barking "Never!" or "That's not a bloody option, Potter!". Instead the man remained silent.

He was finally considering to give up, and she could see how hard that was for him.

"Not just yet," he said finally, stubborn as only he could be. "There has to be a way!"

So instead of giving up, Severus threw himself back with a vengeance into formulation-craft. Harry sighed. Minerva went along just to indulge him.

By five in the morning the boy had fallen asleep with his head over Minerva's desk. The rest of the surface was occupied by open books, diagrams and countless drafts. Severus was definitely making a science of this, he seemed to be measuring words with as much precision as he measured potion ingredients.

Whatever the man was trying to atone for, Minerva was convinced he had already done so with all this night's suicidal efforts. Even though he would most likely fail.

Finally, finally, Severus straightened himself up. He had been scrawling furiously for the last five minutes, and by the look of him this was his very last hope.

Minerva raised her eyebrows when she read the newest formulation.

"You can't be serious, Severus!" she hissed.

"I'm deadly serious," he said, taking back the parchment and aiming a Stinging Hex at Harry, who woke up with a start.

"Ouch! What's that for?" complained the boy rubbing his shoulder.

"For laziness. Get down on your knees, Potter, we have another draft to try."

Being reminded that they were currently attempting to die seemed to completely awake the boy, who looked suddenly very alert and grim. He obediently went to kneel in front of Severus and accepted the last set of clauses.

His eyebrows also rose when he read them to himself.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, looking up at his Professor with a mix of horror and amusement on his face.

"I never joke, Potter," snapped Severus. "We are at the end of the rope, we will try whatever is left to try."

"But this... this might get you killed too easily," Harry objected. "And it might not work at all with the tournament. It's too unspecific. And the time limit..."

After trying over fifty different formulations and listening to Minerva and Severus arguing over and over again for hours, Harry had come to understand remarkably well how Unbreakable Vows worked.

"If you have a better suggestion, we're all ears. If not, just read the damned words."

Minerva had to bit her lip to not betray her amusement. And also to not cry. This was Severus' last hope, and of course it would not work.

The boy seemed to feel the same way, but after a moment he sighed in resignation.

"All right," he said. "If you're sure, Professor."

"Just read the words, Potter!"

Harry's mouth twitched as if trying to repress a smile. He sobered up a moment later when Severus trapped his hand again in a death grip. Minerva focused on Severus and took her place as Bonder, pouring her magic into their linked hands. This is madness.

After receiving another exasperated and irritated nod from Severus, the boy raised the parchment at eye level and read.

"Will you, Severus Snape, make sure that I know when and how I'm being stupid, for as long as I am underage?"

"I will," said Severus.

Minerva almost drops her wand. By the look of him, Harry also would have collapsed in shock if his hand hadn't been so firmly gripped by his Professor. As it was, they remained linked while a thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from Minerva's wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire. There was triumph in Severus' black eyes, which shone like hot coals over the magically bonded hands.

After a moment, Harry seemed to recover from the shock and the sudden fear, and raised a trembling parchment to eye level.

"Will you, Severus Snape, provide me with whatever I seem to be lacking, for as long as I am underage?"

"I will," said Severus.

A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain. Severus was visibly ecstatic, his hand seeming to grip Harry's harder than ever.

"Will you, Severus Snape, use your life and magic to keep me in good health, for as long as I am underage?"

Severus hesitated for the briefest instant. This was the clause that would most likely get him killed, Minerva knew. At the end of that instant it became obvious that he didn't care.

"I will," he said with fervour.

Both their faces glowed red in the blaze of a third tongue of flame, which shot from Minerva's wand, twisted with the others, and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

There was only the last sealing clause left, which was to be pronounced by the Bonder.

Please don't die, either of you, she silently begged.

"Will you, Severus Snape," asked Minerva with as firm a voice as she could manage, "uphold this Vow to the best of your ability and knowledge, under penalty of death?"

"I will," said Severus, his eyes still boring into Harry's. Into Lily's.

The tickling flames around their hands glowed brighter than ever, red light reaching all the corners of the room, before slowly dying out until they were completely gone. After so much brightness, the office seemed completely dark, but Minerva could still see man and boy grasping each other's hands as if they were life lines.

Minerva withdrew her wand. It was done. Severus had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to Harry, and a very dangerous one. They were both still breathing, and in theory if neither of them had dropped dead at this point they should be fine at least until Tuesday, but they both seemed afraid to let go of their hands. Or at least Harry looked afraid, and guilty. He plainly was expecting Severus to drop dead at any moment.

"One would think you care about me dying, Potter," said Severus raising an eyebrow. "You're being stupid. We will not die tonight, you can let go."

Harry breathed out in relief, and slowly their hands slid away from each other. Severus helped him to his feet and then bid him take a seat. He sat in front of him and retrieved a vial from a pocket of his robes.

"Drink this. Pain reliever, for your knees."

The boy accepted the potion and drank it without question.

"Give me your hand."

Minerva would have never in her wildest dreams imagined she would ever see something so bizarre as Severus Snape massaging Harry Potter's cramped hand, but that's what her eyes were reporting to her. She would cherish this memory forever. Excellent blackmailing material.

"What now, Professor?" asked Harry, still looking and sounding deeply shaken.

"Now I try to use the Vow to save your neck, Potter."

Minerva watched in silence. She felt deeply touched, and frightened to death. Perhaps a Calming Draught would be in order after this insanity.

Severus finally released the child's hand, but he continued looking at him thoughtfully for a long minute.

After such a strong bonding experience, Harry had come to trust Severus so completely that he simply watched innocently as the man raised his wand at him.

For that matter, Minerva also didn't see it coming.

"Obliviate!"