A/N: I'm back with a super quick update! Why? Because I've been brainstorming a bit with my beta and I have something soooo juicy coming up. I'm not going to give it away but it got me so excited that I couldn't help but write. also, your lovely reviews and continued support kept me motivated. Please enjoy!

Here stood that trunk, and there that chest,

Chapter 25

Snape had remained in that bathroom for quite a while. After what Harry had thought was at least an hour, he had flagged down Madame Pomfrey and directed her in the direction of the obviously sick man.

Harry couldn't hear a thing of what happened in there – likely due to the silencing charm still being in effect – but when the pair of them came out, they spelled thunder. Pomfrey had her head held high and her lips pursed as she marched towards a bed at the far end of the room – close to her office. She didn't even glance over her shoulder to see if Snape was following her. The potions master – who looked about as pale as the wintery moon – was walking close behind her, though he was obviously having difficulties keeping up. He didn't spare Harry a second glance but Harry suspected that had more to do with his own sense of pride rather than their animosity towards one another.

After Snape sat down in the assigned bed, he closed the curtain with a swish of his wand so only his silhouette was visible.

"Oh," Harry said to himself. Because now it dawned on him that it had probably been Snape he had seen the previous night.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Harry asked, not sure what would be rudest. Ignoring Snape, or showing some empathy for his current predicament.

It took a full minute for Snape to answer him. "Please just go to sleep, Potter." His voice sounded weary and quite annoyed. It was clear that he didn't want to be here but without being able to take potions for whatever he was feeling now, probably meant that even he realised he needed Pomfrey's help.

Harry sighed and laid back in his bed. He was vaguely aware of the pain in his upper leg where the skele-gro was mending his long since broken bone. But it was faint and nothing like what he was used to. So he endured it without a sound. Surely, Snape had it far worse than him. Harry just hoped that he would be up for exploring the secret passageway soon. Because he wasn't sure just how much longer he would be able to wait.

Harry had slept surprisingly well. He had expected nightmares to plague his mind this night but they had left him alone. Thank Merlin. As soon as he had opened his eyes to greet the morning sun, Pomfrey had appeared at his side with a tray of food.

"Eat up now," she ordered. "You are far too skinny, still."

Harry accepted the platter gratefully. The eggs and bacon were making his mouth water. But he was most looking forward to the small stack of pancakes.

"Oh and before I forget –" Pomfrey said. She pulled a letter out of her pocket and handed it to Harry. "My apologies for intercepting your correspondence but you must understand that I cannot allow birds of any kind in here. It is difficult enough to keep things clean as it is."

"That's alright, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said. "I don't mind."

He turned the envelope over to see the elegant handwriting of Daphne. He couldn't help but feel a fierce blush creep up on him. Setting aside his breakfast for a moment, he gingerly opened the envelope to read the short letter. As soon as he broke the seal and gingerly opened the parchment, he was enthralled by the scent of a perfume that he had oftentimes caught a hint of, whenever the wind blew just so or a calculated swish of long hair had barely grazed his face. Recognising the smell of wildflowers and holly berries already brought a smile to his face. It brought memories to the immediate surface of his thoughts. That fleeting kiss; her close proximity when they hung out; the touch of which he was rarely sure it was on purpose. It was a bit jarring, to feel this sort of way but there he was, unable to sort out these wonderful intrusive thoughts.

Feeling quite enamoured by this marvellous favour, meant just for him, Harry turned his attention to the letter, already admiring her exquisite penmanship as he read.

Sent from the Greengrass Estate
December 21 1993

To my dearest friend Harry Potter,

I hope this letter reaches you in time and that the quiet of Hogwarts during the holidays is treating you well. I must say that to me, the castle feels rather empty without most of the students bustling about, but I suspect you may appreciate the solitude more than most.

However, should you find the peace of Hogwarts growing tiresome, my family has extended an invitation to you for Christmas at Greengrass Manor. While we Slytherins are often known for our appreciation of quiet, our Christmas celebrations have their own... charm. A more refined affair than what you might be used to, I imagine, but perhaps you'd find it a welcome change. There's always room for interesting company, after all. And lest I forget, I do still have something I wished to give you for a while now. As things stand, it might as well be your Christmas present.

I confess, it feels rather odd to be away from the common room for the holidays this year. I hadn't expected to notice, but perhaps certain presences are more noticeable in their absence. I wonder if you've had the same thought, though I suspect you might be too occupied exploring the castle's secrets to dwell on such things.

In any case, should you decide to escape the castle's chilly corridors, our doors are open. We've a library that might even rival Hogwarts', and I suspect you'd find it... enlightening. Do let me know if you're interested. In any case, I would appreciate a reply at your earliest convenience.

My deepest Regards,
Daphne Greengrass

Well that was certainly… interesting, Harry thought. He started eating his food while he kept an eye on the letter. The main focus of the letter was obvious, of course. He was invited to the Greengrass manor. And while the general idea delighted him, he was not sure if it was wise to go. Even though Snape had agreed to postponing the rest of his treatment, it was still something he needed to take into account. Not only that but how safe could the estate be, really? Did he trust Daphne enough to know for certain that he would come back alive? Had her family been on Voldemort's side back in the day?

Vaguely aware that Snape was still in the room and that he had also been given his breakfast, Harry decided to enlist his opinion. However mad that thought actually was.

"Hey, Professor?" he called out.

Someone sighed but there came no response.

"I don't mean to annoy you or anything," Harry then said. "How are you feeling?"

"I would be feeling a lot better if I could eat my breakfast in peace," came the man's gravelly reply.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Harry said.

He went back to his breakfast, listening to the careful clanking of cutlery coming from Snape's vicinity. If the man was eating, he was probably not ready to hurl at a moment's notice anymore.

"Daphne invited me to her home for Christmas," Harry said, not comfortable with the silence hanging between them.

If Harry had expected the man to act surprised, he was sorely mistaken.

"I can't imagine that you would wish to leave Ms Granger by herself after she so graciously decided to stay at Hogwarts for you."

"Right," Harry said. That was true, of course. "Maybe they'll let her come as well?"

Snape swished his curtain aside to look at Harry as if he was stupid. "Do you honestly think that the pureblood residents of Greengrass manor might welcome a muggleborn at their Christmas fete?"

"No," Harry admitted.

Honestly, he didn't actually want to go to this party. It seemed much too stuck up for his liking. And of course he was going to stay at Hogwarts during the holidays. He doubted that he could change that willy nilly. The main thought occupying his mind at the time was that Daphne had written to him. She had thought of him. And she had wanted Harry to come to her for the holidays. Could that mean that she missed him?

Harry sighed and fell back into his pillow. "I don't get her," he said. "Well, I guess I just don't get girls. Slytherin girls in particular."

Snape scoffed. "A Christmas invitation can't possibly be throwing you for a loop, can it?" he asked.

Harry glanced at his potions professor. He realised that it was easier to talk to the man about banal things now. Could that be because they saw each other at their most vulnerable, perhaps? The man was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, as he so loved to do.

"Well, no," Harry finally replied. "But I can't help but feel I should be reading something between the lines… maybe."

"That's very much a possibility," Snape agreed. "When you're discussing the topic of Slytherin girls, of course."

Harry snorted. "Are you mocking me?" he asked. "Excuse me for not having the kind of experience you have, Professor. But even when I'm not sleeping in the Slytherin dorm rooms, I've never exactly been compared to the likes of Lockhart."

"Merlin forbid," Snape said evenly.

"You know what I mean," Harry said. "Before he went and stupified himself, he was considered the dashingly handsome most eligible bachelor."

"Stupified is not a word," Snape said evenly.

"I thought it was rather clever wordplay," Harry said. "Professor, can't you just read this letter for me?"

Snape looked at him, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Are you quite certain?" he asked. "I would be amenable to being saved from this infernal boredom but I would hardly desire to pry into your personal matters."

Harry scoffed. "I think it's a bit too late for that," he said.

Snape's reply to that was silence. Harry supposed there was not much he could say to that. Kicking himself for making the environment less agreeable again, he jumped out of his bed, happy that his leg didn't protest in the slightest and gave the letter to the dour man. "Just look it over, please? I'm pretty sure that there's nothing er… inappropriate in here."

Snape exhaled strongly through his nose – the closest thing he could manage to a laugh, Harry thought – and took the letter from Harry's outstretched hand. His eyes roamed the short missive for a fleeting moment before he gave it back to Harry.

"Her meaning is quite obvious," he said.

"Well then, tell me!" Harry insisted. "I'm sure she doesn't just want me there for Christmas."

"That assessment would be correct," Snape agreed. "In fact, from what I can tell, Christmas is not her main directive here as if the addition of her perfume is not enough of a hint."

"Professor…" Harry urged. He was feeling his patience slip through his finger.

"She's expressing a desire for you to court her," Snape said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, that's hilarious and all, Professor but could you just help a bloke out?" Harry asked. "Come on, do it for one of your Slytherins."

Snape tilted his chin in amusement. "One of my Slytherins, is it?" he asked.

"Sure," Harry said. "For now."

Snape shook his head in amusement. "I assure you that I am not lying to you, Mr Potter," he said. "Her invitation is also an invitation for your courtship. Plain and simple."

"That can't be," Harry said. "She's already –" But Harry didn't want to spill Daphne's secrets to Snape.

"Betrothed to Mr Malfoy," Snape easily finished his sentence. "I'm aware."

"Oh," Harry said. "But then you know that's impossible."

"Did Ms Greengrass not specify to you the stipulations of her agreement?" Snape asked easily. "That she is to be allowed a beau?"

Harry snorted. "So what, she wants me to be her side-piece?" he asked. "No offense but that sounds kind of… low."

Snape clasped his hands together and eyed Harry patiently. "You seem to be operating on a number of misconceptions," he said. "And it would do well for me to clear those up before you make a decision, I suppose. Sometimes I forget just how little experience Gryffindors have with our aristocracy."

Tired of standing, Harry gingerly sat down on the edge of Snape's bed, carefully gaging the man's reaction. When he didn't snarl, hex or told Harry off for his 'impudence', Harry scooted into a more comfortable position.

"Go on," he said.

It was a testament to how off kilter Snape must still be feeling to still be staying in his bed. Harry supposed that the side effects of the spell weren't entirely gone yet. Perhaps that's why Snape seemed a tad more amicable this morning. Something that Harry was eager to make good use of.

"First of all," Snape said. "The betrothal contact between Mr Malfoy and Ms Greengrass is not exactly binding. It is a promise of certainty for their near future but with the allowance for a breach if a better suitor for either of them should appear."

Harry frowned. "Better than Malfoy?" he asked. "Er… in what way?"

"One would look at social standing, wealth and of course power," Snape said, the glint in his eyes alluding to something Harry could not quite put his finger on.

"Second of all, both parties are allowed to explore relationships before the contract takes effect," Snape continued. "For Ms Greengrass, this comes with more limitations as she is not allowed to engage in the act of –"

"That's enough!" Harry interrupted, knowing full well what Snape was about to say. He could feel his cheeks colour red and felt thoroughly embarrassed. "Should you really be saying that kind of thing about your student?"

Snape raised his eyebrows. "It matters not, Mr Potter," he said. "In our circles, this is common knowledge. I merely wished to inform you."

"Well, I think I know what you're getting at, alright?" Harry said, feeling entirely out of sorts. He was thirteen, for crying out loud! His hands were playing with the frayed endings of Snape's blanket, as if to keep his mind occupied. "Was there er… anything else?"

"Certainly," Snape said easily, completely ignoring Harry's discomfort. "Being a lady's beau is not something to be embarrassed about. Especially not if she's of high standing. In fact, such people would be invited to the same events that her husband would be a part of. It is quite a normal part of the magical aristocratic conventions. And even if you don't pursue a relationship with Ms Greengrass of any kind, I believe this knowledge to be of great use to you."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "I was a fool to think you arrogant," he said more to himself then to Harry. "Mr Potter, you are surely aware of your standing in the wizarding world. I have no doubt that – before long – you will be invited to more and more of these high-ranking events of society."

"Sounds dreadful," Harry said.

Snape scoffed. "Quite," he said. "I realise that I am likely getting ahead of myself but you will always have a choice in what events you do or do not attend. Just keep in mind that if you keep declining, all invitations will cease and your social standing will plummet."

For a moment, Harry wondered if that was what had happened to Snape but he realised that he didn't know nearly enough about the man's summer habits to venture a guess.

"But er…" Harry then said. "What do you think I should do about this? About Daphne, I mean."

At that moment, the door to the hospital wing opened ever so softly. A few seconds passed before a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor poked her head inside. When she spotted Harry perched on Snape's bedside, she dropped all pretence and walked inside, a tired look of disbelief on her face.

"Good morning," she said carefully. "Er… Is everything alright?"

"I'm feeling loads better," Harry told Hermione. He jumped down from Snape's bed to approach her and frowned when he came closer. "You look tired. Are you alright?"

Hermione smiled at him. "I'm fine," she said. "I just didn't sleep too well last night." Harry couldn't help but wonder if recent events had something to do with that.

Clearly, Snape had the same idea. He sighed. "Ms Granger," he said evenly. "While I appreciate your coming to the aid of Mr Potter, I surely don't like upsetting you with the goings-on of his sessions. If they are keeping you from your sleep –"

"They're not!" Hermione interrupted loudly, immediately looking quite abashed for her outburst. "I'm sorry, Professor," she added quietly. "I mean to say that I don't have nightmares or anything. I was just up late reading."

Concerned, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand. "Hermione," he said. "We talked about this, didn't we?" Thankfully, Snape stayed silent for the moment.

Hermione shook her head slightly. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm just trying to find something to make this easier on you. I can't just sit by and do nothing while you suffer."

"But you're not doing nothing," Harry said easily. "You being there with me is a big help."

"I guess," Hermione said. "But I know I can do better. If I can just find the proper book –"

"Ms Granger," Snape said, his voice ominous. "Do you not believe myself to be knowledgeable enough to know whether or not there is something to ease this process for Mr Potter?"

"Of course not," Hermione stammered.

"Then perhaps you think me so cruel that Idoknow of such a solution but refuse to present it simply because the child I'm dealing with is Harry Potter,?"

"Professor," Harry hissed. That was entirely unnecessary.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think that, sir."

Snape's eyes softened a bit. "I know you don't," he said. "But I need you to understand that you can't be of assistance here. Not unless you're secretly a Medi witch."

Hermione wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. "But Harry," she said, her voice quickly becoming a quivering mess. "You're in so much pain. And there's so much more to do. I can't just sit by and do nothing."

"Then you will not sit by at all," Snape said darkly.

Harry whirled around to meet Snape's gaze. "No, Professor," he pleaded.

"Don't cross me on this, Mr Potter," Snape said. "It has become clear to me that allowing Ms Granger to be in the room while you undergo these procedures has been quite ill-conceived indeed. She does not have the mental capacity to assist you in a neutral manner."

"Professor!" Hermione now protested.

"As such!" Snape interrupted loudly. "You will simply need to resort to being there for Mr Potter before and after his sessions."

"All because I wanted to help him?" Hermione asked. "That's not fair!"

"I suggest that you quickly accept my decision, Ms Granger," Snape said evenly. "Because I will not go back on it and if you continue in this fashion that is most unlike you, I will be forced to assign you a detention."

That shut Hermione up. She ever only had one detention in her Hogwarts history and that was in her first year in which she had to venture into the forbidden forest. She still complained about that day even now, worrying about the blemish on her permanent record. Harry knew that she didn't want to procure another.

"Yes, Professor Snape," she said softly and turned around to go.

"Wait," Harry said. "I can come with you. Let's go to the common room."

"You will do no such thing," Snape said. "Not until Ms Pomfrey has deemed you cleared to go."

"It's alright, Harry," Hermione said softly. Her shoulders were hunched in a subliminal show of defeat that made Harry entirely unwilling to let her go. But when he tried to reach out, she just turned away from him. "I'll see you later, alright?"

She left without another word and Harry couldn't help but whirl around in anger to face Snape. The man was already looking at him with an expectant consternation.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked. "She didn't do anything wrong! She was just trying to help me!"

"Lower your voice, Mr Potter," Snape said. "I will not be spoken to in this manner." He glared at Harry with a vibrant vitriol that gave the boy pause.

He sighed a shuddering breath, looking over his shoulder at the closed door of the infirmary as if he could still see Hermione standing there. "I'm sorry, sir," he then said, his voice a lot calmer. "But I still don't see why you had to be so –" A second glare shut that train of thought down effectively.

"I am honestly surprised to see that you don't wholeheartedly agree with me," Snape told him.

"What?" Harry asked sullenly. "Why?"

"Because of Ms Granger's issues that you've been rather concerned about not too long ago." Snape said.

Harry frowned. "I don't… I didn't think –"

"Rest assured that Ms Granger is not out of the woods yet," Snape said solemnly. "She might have seen reason up until now but not much is required for someone like her to be prompted back into her previous state."

Harry deflated a bit and now chose a chair standing by Snape's bed to sink into. "You mean like these healing sessions," he said.

"I'm afraid so," Snape replied. He sighed and finally threw back his blankets, swivelling his legs out of bed to place them on the floor. When he stood, Harry could see that Snape's legs trembled slightly but before he could say anything, the man had already placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I realise that she was trying to help you, Mr Potter," Snape said. "And it is indeed admirable that she wishes to do so. But I'm afraid that I have more students to look out for than you. And since realising my grievous error concerning you in particular…" he inhaled strongly as if to gather courage. "I realise that I should pay more attention to the other houses as well. And ever since you brought up Ms Granger's mental health to me, I can't help but feel responsible for her as well."

Harry nodded solemnly, looking at his hands folded in his lap. "I understand," he said. "I really do. And I know that it's completely selfish of me to feel this way but –"

Harry furiously rubbed his treacherous eyes.

"But what?" Snape asked softly.

"I don't want to be on my own for this," Harry whispered. "Not again."

It hurt to admit this. It hurt to feel the comforting squeeze of Snape's hand on his shoulder, knowing that he craved it. It hurt to relinquish the feeling of self-reliance he had always needed yet loathed. He always braved his pain on his own. Always. He never asked for help. Especially not in situations that only affected himself.

But he wanted to. Oh, he really, really wanted to. He wanted to believe that he could finally trust someone with his well-being. Even if that person was Snape.

It hurt to want this.

"You're not alone," Snape said softly and Harry looked up to meet Snape's dark eyes. They held emotion, which they otherwise never did. And the man – too – seemed momentarily at a loss. As if he was as unfamiliar with this situation as Harry was.

"I realise that I'm not your primary choice – and for good reason – but you have me."

"Are you sure?" Harry all but whispered. He couldn't stop his innermost thoughts. For how long?

"I am certain," Snape replied easily. "I will not make this mistake again."

Harry nodded, trying his best to ignore that flicker of doubt that he didn't have the courage to let go of just yet. "Thank you," he said.

"Anytime," Snape said. For a moment, the man leaned forward ever so slightly and Harry wondered if he was about to be embraced, feeling in his innermost self that he would welcome it. But then Snape cleared his throat, righted himself and sat back on his bed. Harry supposed that it was merely a loss of balance he had seen.

He sighed wistfully. "I should finish my pancakes," he then told Snape. "I'm sure they're pretty much ice cold by now."

Snape shook his head a little. He pointed his wand at Harry's tray and flicked it once. By the time Harry had sat back down in his own bed, his food was pleasantly warm again. It was a small act but one that Harry really appreciated. Though Snape would never know just how much.

A/N: Please leave a review!