A blinding flash of light and then a searing pain had the occupant of the bed bolting upright, heart pounding. Black eyes scanned the room as the rapid breathing was forced under control. Damn it! That made the fourth time in less than two weeks. What the bloody hell was going on??

Oh, he knew well enough what the flash had been. Merlin knew he had witnessed the curse before in his waking moments. He knew the full terror of watching it. But why, why was he now dreaming about it? And why this particular victim?

Snape climbed from his bed and walked over to stare in the mirror above his bureau, absently rubbing his left forearm. Of course his reflection revealed nothing, not a single answer to the horrific nightmares that had begun to plague him. And he wanted answers. Needed them. Had to have them! Yet the Potions Master had none, no idea what was going on. And that unnerved him, which in turn angered him. Severus Snape liked control, was used to being in control. Now he was not and he found it totally unacceptable.

Turning from the mirror, Snape took a deep breath and began to change out of his night clothes and dress. It mattered not that is was the middle of the night, he well knew that there would be no further sleep for him this night. He might as well use the time constructively. Constructively, a part of him sneered, hardly. He would sit in his comfortable arm chair in front of the fire and stare at the flames, just as he had two nights ago, replaying the dream again, reliving the feelings of horror, then intense loneliness and sadness, the inner cry for help as loud as a piercing scream to Severus.

This had to stop!! Seeking answers on his own had failed. It was time to turn to the only one that would likely be able to provide what he sought. Once dressed, Snape bypassed the chair and headed out the door, his steps leading him to a stone gargoyle and the one who had always been able to explain things in the past. . .Albus Dumbledore.

s s s s s s s s s s

The Headmaster had been at his desk, waiting for Snape, and had looked at the dark haired wizard with that knowing look that the younger man found so annoying, not to mention disconcerting. At the polite question of whether he would like some tea, Snape nearly exploded. No, he didn't want bloody tea! He wanted answers!

Allowing himself to be led to the cozy sitting room off from the main office, however, Snape found himself installed in an overstuffed chair with a cup of tea in his hand as Dumbledore questioned him as to the nature his visit. As if the old coot didn't know, Snape snorted.

"And so this is the fourth time it has happened. The dreams seem to be occurring more often now as well," Severus concluded his story.

Albus took another sip of his own tea before placing the cup on the small table beside his chair. "The meaning seems clear to me," he stated with a smile.

Snape ground his teeth together in frustration. Well would you like to expound on it so that it's clear to me? he wanted to snap. Instead he held the damn cup firmly and answered. "Oh, and what might it be, Headmaster?"

"It might be any number of things, my boy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. The older wizard was well aware that Snape was getting agitated. "But I believe there is a most logical explanation. As you know, dreams can reveal subconscious thoughts or in the case of some, especially those with magical talents, create an emotional tie, a bond that. . ."

"Joins two people together," Snape cut in. No, that couldn't be it. He had thought of that as well and rejected the idea totally. Now Dumbledore was telling him he thought it was one of Snape's worse fears. "But, Headmaster! It's Potter! Potter of all people! No! I will not have a link with him! I will not!"

Albus chuckled. "I am very much afraid that this is not always something we are allowed to choose, Severus."

With a growl, Snape all but slammed the cup down and stood up, pacing to the fireplace and back to the chair, hands clasped behind him. "No! It's just not possible! Why me??!" After a few moments of ranting, the younger wizard turned back to look at Dumbledore, the black eyes almost pleading the older man to fix things. "There has to be something that can be done."

Shaking his head, Dumbledore looked back at the young man. "There is nothing. Once a bond is established one can not just simply cut it asunder. Not without great trauma to all parties. And even those that have tried it and survived have still always had a slight feeling of still being connected." The blue eyes regarded Snape lovingly as Dumbledore asked quietly, "Would it really be so horrible, child?"

"Yes!" Severus spat out. "It's Potter!" he repeated as if the headmaster hadn't caught that earlier.

The silver head nodded. "Yes, I realize that."

Black eyes narrowed. "Then you shouldn't even have to ask, should you?" the tone was petulant though Snape would never in his life have admitted it.

"Sit down, Severus. Drink your tea and calm down so that we may talk about this."

"I don't want the bloody tea! Tea doesn't solve every ill known to mankind!" Snape raged as his hand dashed the cup to the floor.

"Severus!"

The one word cracked like a whip in the air and Snape looked directly at the older wizard for a split second before dropping his eyes and swallowing. Damn it! The man could still make him feel like a ruddy first year caught out. "Sorry, sir," he offered quietly. Withdrawing his wand, Snape had the mess cleaned up in a flash and then returned to his seat, still not looking fully at Dumbledore.

The tense silence lingered for a few moments before Albus spoke again. "Are you quite finished with the display of the legendary Snape temper now?" A nod was his only answer and so he proceeded.

"I realize that this is a shock to you, Severus, as well as something that you do not want."

Master of the understatements there aren't we, Severus thought sulkily.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "it is also something that can be beneficial to both you and Mr. Potter."

Snape snorted. "And just how precisely do I benefit from this arrangement?"

Dumbledore's voice became stern. "If you will stop interrupting and open yourself to the idea then I could explain."

"Open myself? Isn't that how the whole bloody mess started? Somehow I was open enough to have a bond with that. . .that. . .BOY!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice was sharp. "Do not make me put a silencing charm or any other hex on you to make you sit quietly and listen, Severus."

Crossing his arms with a glare and the nonverbal equivalent of 'Fine!', Snape sat back in the chair and with a slight nod acknowledged Dumbledore's words and the right for the man to continue.

"Thank you," Albus commented. "Now as I was saying, a bond between you and Harry would help you both. The child has only learned a few short months ago who and what he really is. He needs someone to guide and reassure him, a mentor of sorts. He is still very uncertain and very much alone and scared."

"He has all his slimy little Gryffindor friends," Snape pointed out. "And if he is in need of a mentor, then let McGonagall do it. I am not the type to play nanny to a spoiled brat."

Choosing to ignore the slight to the house of Gryffindor and the children in it, Dumbledore responded, "It is not Minerva that the link chose. And you will not be a nanny as you say, merely someone who cares. Someone who understands."

"That's where you're wrong, sir. I don't understand. And I certainly don't care about Potter," Snape stated and stood up. "As this is getting us nowhere, if I may, I will take my leave now, Headmaster."

Albus sighed. Merlin's beard but this child was stubborn! Perhaps it would be best to go with the route that had worked in the past. He would let his headstrong young one learn things the hard way. "Very well, child, have it your way. Continue on as though there is no bond. Try to ignore it if you will. I am here if you have need of me. As always."

s s s s s s s s s s

Too thin arms wrapped around skinny legs as the little figure sat in the middle of the bed. Green eyes, still a bit bright with left over tears, shone from behind the glasses as Harry Potter peered through a small crack in the bed curtains. Morning light was at last filtering in and he heard his dorm mates stirring. The eleven year old had just time enough to finish composing himself, shoving his thoughts and fears of the night to the back of his mind, before a red head poked through the curtains.

"Mornin', Harry," Ron greeted brightly.

Harry gave his friend a smile back. "Mornin', Ron."

"You're already awake?" Ron questioned. "Don't tell me you got up early to study." He snickered.

"Study? Why would I do that?" Harry responded with a more sincere grin.

"Well. . .we do have our best class today." The red headed boy made a gagging sound.

Part of Harry's grin slipped. He had forgotten about having Potions first thing after breakfast. Great, that was just what he needed after a sleepless night, Snape breathing down his neck.

"Cheer up," Ron gave Harry a nudge at seeing his friend's look. "Granger will spout out the answers like always. It won't matter if you've read the book or not. Come on, let's get dressed. I'm hungry!"

Harry shook his head as Ron retreated to get ready. Sliding from the bed, the dark haired little wizard also began to ready himself for the day, but Harry couldn't stop his thoughts from going back to last night. Well back before that really.

It had been a shock to the eleven year old to learn that he was a wizard and not only that but one that was well known, by name at any rate. After two weeks here at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the young boy wasn't so sure if he fancied the change in his life. For starters there was the castle itself. Harry had already been lost half a dozen times and that had resulted in being told off by everyone from a sixth year Ravenclaw, to an angry pipe smoking sea captain in a painting that he had grabbed hold of to stop from sliding along the hall he had been running down, to his own Head of House, Professor McGonagall. He had already made enemies with Malfoy and his cronies, not totally intentionally, even though he thought Malfoy was a worm, but enemies none the less. And all of that didn't begin to touch on what Harry considered the worse part. Snape.

The man hated him it seemed and the boy couldn't fathom way, other than the fact he happened to be Harry Potter. Snape had picked on him since the first day and when he wasn't berating him in class, Harry could almost swear the man was watching him at other times if they happened to be in the same vicinity.

Ron clearly hated the slimeball back and the thought that he at long last had a friend that hurt when he hurt and would be righteously angry on his behalf warmed Harry's heart. It was another new experience for the child.

And then the dreams had started. Harry had ever been plagued by nightmares and as a small boy had cried himself back into an exhausted sleep many times after awakening in fright. So the dreams were nothing new per se. The intensity was however. As was the frequency with which they were happening. And the faint image of someone watching from the shadows. But what could he do? He couldn't tell anyone. He sure wasn't going to tell Ron and be laughed at for getting upset and scared over a dream. And there was no grown up that he would talk to about something like that. Well, maybe Hagrid, but he wasn't sure how the huge man would react other than perhaps pat his shoulder and nearly take it off in the effort to be kind. No best to stay quiet about them, Harry firmed his decision as he pulled on his robes and along with Ron headed out the door to breakfast.

Snape stalked back and forth across the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back, but still resembling a panther ready to pounce. Then as he reached the Slytherin side of the room once more, he made his attack. Whirling, the Potions Master barked out. "Potter!"

Harry's head shot up, wondering what he had done now. He had been simply looking through his potion stores to find the ingredients that Snape had listed on the board.

"Tell me what ingredient is missing from the list, Potter," Snape demanded.

Confused, Harry looked from the man to the board where Snape had flicked his wand, causing the directions and things needed for the day to appear only five minutes ago. Maybe this was a trick. Surely the man hadn't left something out on purpose. Or had he? Harry was clueless. So he attempted to stall for time while his mind tried to come up with something. "Um, missing?"

"Yes, missing," Snape walked closer, his voice oily and a sneer on his lips. "As is not there, not present, not a part of something. Like your attention in this class." This comment produced several snickers from the Slytherins.

Harry felt the color rise in his face. "I. . ."

It was as far as he got before Snape snapped at him. "Allow me to guess, Mr. Potter. You don't know." He smirked.

Ron tensed beside Harry and the dark haired boy shot him a look silently begging him not to say anything.

Quirking an eyebrow, Snape, without ever breaking eye contact with Harry, stated, "And you may put your hand down, Miss Granger. I am certain we all know that YOU know the answer. There is no need to wave it so wildly as I am not in the custom of waving back at my students."

"Now since Mr. Potter obviously doesn't know the answer since he obviously has not read the assignment from the last lesson," Snape stressed the word 'obviously' both times, "Mr. Weasley, why don't you help him out."

Ron frowned and when he didn't voice an answer right away, Snape continued, "Perhaps you did not read either. Dear me, I had no idea that such common skills as reading were lacking among the Gryffindors. Dare I try again? Longbottom! What ingredient is missing?"

Neville gave a little squeaking gasp and promptly knocked over his cauldron.

Shaking his head, Snape turned back to the Slytherins. "Mr. Malfoy, an answer, if you please."

"Cadlus root, sir,' Draco responded smugly.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin." Snape nodded. "As for Gryffindor, minus twenty points. Five for each of you." The Potions Master smirked and returned to his desk.

"What. . .??!" Ron exclaimed, but Harry elbowed him hard before his friend could say anything else.

s s s s s s s s s s

"Of all the slimy, underhanded. . ." Ron ranted in the corridor as he and Harry left the Potions classroom. "That was so unfair! He had no right to dock us those points! Granger KNEW the answer! Bloody git!"

Harry was pretty furious himself. Not only had they lost points but at the end of class Snape had found Harry's attempt at the potion unacceptable and given the boy an incomplete, informing him that he had best try harder or his Saturday would spent in the dungeon redoing what he should have learned during the week. "Yeah," Harry agreed, "he's a. . ."

"Pray go on, Mr. Potter," a silky voice spoke from behind the two boys. Snape had followed them unawares. "What precisely am I?"

In a moment of frustrated bravado, Harry whirled. "You're a right evil bas. . OW!" Once again what he was about to say was cut off, only this time it was due to the fact Snape had seized the boy by the ear.

His face inches away from Harry's, Snape hissed, "Am I indeed. Well you will learn more about that first hand tomorrow night, Potter." With a final painful pinch to the small ear, Snape spat out, "Detention with me. Tomorrow. Seven o'clock. And do not dare be late!" Then in a swirl of robes the angry professor stormed down the hall.

s s s s s s s s s s

6:57. Three minutes to spare, though Harry was sorely tempted to use those three minutes running and finding a hiding place. Once others had found out about his detention, namely Ron's older brothers, Fred and George, Harry had been subjected to all sorts of horror tales of what happened in the Potion Master's dungeon. It had been repeatedly stated that detention with Snape was the stuff of nightmares, only a step, or maybe a half step, up from serving one under the sadistic caretaker Filch.

Taking another deep breath and praying that he wouldn't get sick or pass out or forget how to talk or any other embarrassing thing, Harry raised a small hand to knock only to hear a sharp voice call to him.

"Get inside, Mr. Potter and stop wasting time in the hall."

Damn, could the bloody git see though doors too? The little boy wondered as he opened the office door and stepped inside. "I. . .I wasn't wasting time. I'm early," Harry stated with a bit more boldness than he truly felt.

"Are you indeed?" Snape looked over at him with an arched eyebrow, just as a clock chimed 7 o'clock.

"Well I thought I was!" Harry declared with a scowl.

"You thought? That will be a first. Or perhaps you only limit your thinking to outside my classroom, Mr. Potter. As you clearly do not do it IN my class."

Harry clenched his jaw and glared at the dark man, feeling the familiar sense of loathing rise up in him. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if his detention was going to be to stand here and endure insults or if he could sit down for it. But at that moment Snape rose from behind his desk and Harry involuntarily took a step back. The man was intimidating, whether he liked it or not.

"For the first hour you will scrub cauldrons," Snape decreed. "Then you will spend the next forty-five minutes writing lines."

Okay that didn't sound so bad, Harry thought to himself and gave Snape a cocky look. "Sure. Where are the cauldrons?"

Snape narrowed his dark eyes. "Your insolence will have you here for a return visit tomorrow if you do not mind your tone, Potter." The man was pleased to see that the boy looked away. Still too defiant for Snape's liking, but he would learn to control himself and understand that the precious Boy-Who-Lived was not running things anymore. This was Snape's domain, and he ruled with an iron hand.

"You will, as I was saying, wash the cauldrons. Without the aid of magic. And you will have completed twenty-four of them before you time is up or there will be consequences. Likewise, for the lines, you will have finished one hundred or there will be more punishment."

Harry blinked. Consequences? More punishment?? This wasn't something that the others had warned him about. It wasn't fair. "That's not fair," he heard himself protesting. "I don't want anymore punishment."

Snape sneered. "I am certain you do not, Mr. Potter. You had best get to work then. Through there." The professor pointed to a door.

Harry stalked over to it, thinking all sorts of things about this man, not the least of which was the fact that he wished he knew a hex to throw at him. If he had been thinking logically, Harry would have known that any hex could and would easily be blocked and the repercussions would be great, but at the moment the eleven year old was to mad to allow logic to enter the equation.

The door lead to the Potions classroom and waiting for him beside the sink was an immense pile of small and medium cauldrons and a pair of protective gloves. Slipping them on, Harry got started. At first the scrubbing was hard and furious but as Harry's temper settled, it gave way to a more rhythmetical washing which cleaned the stained vessels well. Harry was no stranger to cleaning and so the time passed quickly, but the number of clean cauldrons grew nearly as quickly.

When Snape called a halt after an hour, he was amazed to find the boy had washed twenty-eight cauldrons, four more than his quota. However, there was no way he was going to comment favorably on that to the boy. Instead, several worn in stains were pointed out on three of the cauldrons and Snape sneered, "I will not count those. Therefore you only just reached your goal, Potter. Take off the gloves and return to my office. We shall see how well you do with the lines."

Ready to protest, Harry took one look at the sneering face of his teacher and scowled right back. "Yeah, we will."

Snape had a sudden urge to lift the boy by his collar and shake him. Who did this insolent brat think he was? Oh wait. . .he was Harry-Bloody-Potter, the little savior of the wizarding world. The one allowed to say or do as he wished. Snape snorted. Not around Severus Snape he wasn't! The Potions Master was determined to bring this child down a peg or two.

"Get in there and sit down at the student desk. The parchment and quill are ready," Snape ordered, pointing through the doorway and then following the boy as Harry moved ahead.

Flopping down, Harry tried not to gulp as he saw the prompt for his lines. 'I will not use crude names or obscene language when referring to Professor Snape.' It was long and writing wasn't his best skill. Cleaning was something the boy knew about having had more than enough practice at his aunt and uncle's house. But it wasn't as if they had ever made him write out correspondence for them. His handwriting grades in primary school had been average, but that was with a pencil and neatly lined paper. A quill and parchment were different. While Harry had no problems with his homework for the most part, he didn't have a quota and time limit with that either, at least not as short of one as he had now. He stared at the paper and idly fingered the quill.

"Daydreaming will not write lines, Mr. Potter. Nor will it extend your time or bring back the seven minutes you have already wasted. One hundred lines are still due. I suggest you get busy," Snape spoke coldly from his desk as a reminder of his expectations.

Frowning at the unfairness and inwardly seething, Harry began to write.  There was no way he could do that many and he knew it. What would Snape do? Assign more lines? Another detention? Take away house points? Regardless of what he was writing, the little boy was doing the exact opposite as silently he called the professor all the names he could think of!

The time ticked ever later and Harry paused to rub his hand. Seventy-five lines. Swiveling his head around, he located a clock and his face paled slightly. Only ten minutes to go! He would never, ever make it! Furiously, the boy began to write again.

When the clock read a quarter to nine, Snape looked up from his grading and ordered, "Lay down your quill and bring me your lines."

Harry looked up and bit his lip, his voice faltering a little. "I. . .I still have ten. . ."

"Did I ask you how many you had? I said bring them to me. Now do so."

Rising from his seat, Harry brought the parchment over to Snape's desk and handed it over, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Snape scanned the paper and tsked. "Slovenly work, Potter. But then I don't know why I expected more. Your homework is always barely legible and if you take no pride in that then you certainly would not make an attempt to be neat in writing lines." The black eyes looked up at the boy who shifted a moment and then looked at Snape. Defiant as ever, the Potions Master thought to himself.

"Be here in the morning. Eight o'clock," snapped the dark haired professor.

Harry blinked in astonishment. "Eight o'clock? In the morning??"

"I did not stutter."

"But. . .but, it's Saturday."

"Oh very good, Potter, you have learned the days of the week," Snape sneered. "Yes, it is in fact Saturday. And you will be in detention."

"That's not fair!!" Harry protested.

An eyebrow arched upward. "I could care less what you deem fair, Mr. Potter. You WILL be here or the consequences will be dire."

The tone and words made the little boy swallow. Deciding there was no way he would let Snape know that he was nervous, Harry snapped, "Fine! Can I go now?"

"No."

"No? Why not? You have the lines," Harry pointed out.

"And you have no manners, Mr. Potter," came the reply. "Once you can address me with proper respect and ask to go in a courteous manner, I will consider honoring your request."

Scowling but wanting to make it back to his dorm before curfew and before he found himself with more problems, Harry ground out, "May I leave now, Professor Snape?"

Snape considered it for a long moment. Not the best request he had ever had and very much forced, but he would teach Potter to be more respectful before all was said and done. Merlin knew SOMEONE needed to! He gave a nod. "Eight in the morning. Do not be late. You may go."

The boy was out of the room as quickly as he could move. Without a proper 'yes, sir', Snape noted. It was only after Harry had left that it occurred to Snape that he had considered the boy needed someone to teach him manners and worse yet he had entertained the idea of doing it. That was NOT a thought Severus Snape wanted to have again! The less he had to do with the brat the better!

s s s s s s s s s s

A scream ripped through the still darkness and a form shot upright in bed. Snape's breathing was heavy and his heart was pounding. Damn it!!! Another nightmare. Or vision. Or whatever in the bloody hell they were! This was the worse yet. The scream had been more internal the previous times. This time the man could hear it still ringing in his ears. The piercing cry of a child who was terrified. Snape shuddered.

Swinging his legs out of bed, he took a moment to calm down and regain his composure. It had been too vivid. He had seen HIM. The evilness had been near tangible this time. Why? The Dark Lord was no more. The events that he had seen were ten years old. It was nothing but a memory.

Shaking his head, Snape got dressed and went to his lab. He might as well work on some potions since sleep would not be gained again tonight.

s s s s s s s s s s

Hidden behind the maroon bed curtains in the boy's dormitory, a small boy huddled in a ball, eyes wide open and tears coursing down his face while he shivered in fright. Pulling the covers even tighter around him, Harry cried quietly not wanting anyone to know. He had had the dream again. Only this time it was different. He was accustomed to his mother and the 'bad man', as he had always thought of him, being there, but there was someone else. The shadowy figure that had lurked just out of his view last time had been in the doorway this time. He couldn't tell who it was, but there had been someone there. Someone who had turned away. Leaving him alone again. Always alone.

Severus Snape stepped into the Headmaster's office and immediately paused. He had received a summons from Dumbledore to meet with him about an important matter, but the sight of Minerva McGonagall made the Potions Master wonder what was going on.

"Come and join us, my boy," Dumbledore called, motioning to the other vacant chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.

Walking over, Snape gave McGonagall a nod and took his seat. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, indeed I did," Dumbledore responded, offering Snape some candy which the younger man declined. "I wanted to inquire about how you have been sleeping."

The black eyes blinked and then narrowed. Just what was the old fool playing at here? Surely he had not. . .Snape glanced over at the other chair, but McGonagall merely sipped her tea and remained quiet. Clearing his throat, the Potions Master stated, "I have been sleeping just fine, Headmaster. Thank you for asking. Now what was it you wished to discuss?" Because it bloody well better be something other than THAT, the dark haired wizard thought to himself.

"That was what I wished to discuss, Severus. You have seemed a bit. . .off lately," replied the Headmaster, studying the younger man.

Snape frowned and gave Dumbledore a look which clearly said, why is McGonagall here.

"Minerva tells me that you have been rather short tempered with students and faculty both the last few days."

"Even more so than usual," McGonagall muttered.

"Almost as though you were not getting adequate rest," Dumbledore added, watching Snape closely.

Snape looked from the witch to the older wizard. "What have you told her?" he demanded.

"I merely suggested there might be a reason for your apparent ill humor," the silver haired man informed Snape.

"I am NOT in an ill humor!" snapped the Potions Master. Glaring at McGonagall, he questioned, "Is this about your precious Potter having back-to-back detention? Did he complain how cruel I was to make him suffer on a Saturday morning?"

Minerva leveled a look at Snape. "Potter has said nothing to me about you, complaint or otherwise, Severus. I have simply observed you eating less at meals, when you decide to show up. And there have been at least five times in the last two days that I have come across you shouting at students in the corridors."

Snorting, Snape shook his head. "I have always shouted at the ones doing something wrong or behaving like idiots, Minerva. That is nothing new."

"Five times in two days is a record even for you, Severus," McGonagall returned.

"Perhaps the students have been more dim-witted lately!" the dark haired young man retorted.

"And perhaps it is something else," Dumbledore put in. Then growing serious he looked directly at Snape. "How many times, child?" he inquired gently.

None, Snape wanted to shout. He wanted to rage that he didn't have to answer, didn't have to sit here and be interrogated like a schoolboy. The trouble was that was exactly how he felt with the older wizard and witch both observing him so closely. Not meeting anyone's eye, he quietly stated, "Twice."

"In three days?" The Headmaster looked concerned.

Snape sighed and nodded. "They are getting more intense as well. But," he looked up, "it is nothing that I can not handle."

McGonagall was a bit lost as Albus had not told her exactly what was going on, just that he suspected what was bothering the younger man. "Severus, what exactly is it that you are trying to handle?"

Giving a short laugh, Snape looked at his fellow teacher. "Dreams, Minerva. I've been kept awake by nightmares like a little first year. Satisfied now? You don't have to worry about the students though, especially not your glorious Gryffins. I have a new batch of Dreamless Sleep potion nearly complete and will be taking some tonight."

"It is not my students that I am worried about," the witch commented sincerely. "At least not my present day ones."

Snape turned from the concern and kindness. "Perhaps you should be," he stated. "Save your worry for those that can still be helped, Minerva." Standing, Snape looked to Dumbledore. "Now if you two will excuse me, I have things to see too."

Dumbledore nodded a bit sadly. "As you wish, my boy."

Without another word, Snape left the Headmaster's office. Minerva looked at Dumbledore with questioning eyes. Sighing, the Headmaster began to relate all that he knew on the matter.

McGonagall shook her head. "So it's Potter? If it is a link there, Albus. . ." she let the words trail off.

"I know, my dear. If the link is not recognized soon things will get progressively worse. For both of them."

"I will keep an eye on Potter. But Severus," Minerva sighed.

"Severus is Severus and we both know it," Albus commented, his eyes twinkling a bit.

"Too well," McGonagall snorted. But it was true, both of them knew that they could discuss things as much as they wished but it would do no good, not a thing would, or could, be solved until the older and more dominant personality in the link accepted and nurtured the bond. Until Severus Snape stopped being stubborn and acknowledged he was indeed connected with Harry Potter.

s s s s s s s s s s

A walk should have been relaxing. Should have been. But wasn't. Snape had finished the potions he had been working on, including the Dreamless Sleep one that he was going to make very sure to take that night, and then had gone outside for a walk. Only to find more chaos.

The professor frowned at the child now within his grasp. He had been unable to believe the ruckus he had come across on a simple walk. Two blasted first years playing around on brooms that they had no business having off the ground in the first place. Bloody little show offs, the both of them. Well, one he could and would deal with!

Draco Malfoy hurried beside his Head of House on the way back to the castle. It was not as though the blond boy had much choice. His ear was held securely in Snape's hand and personally Draco was rather used to having both ears and didn't wish to be parted from one. Although at the moment he was considering it a high possibility judging by the pain. "Professor?" the boy spoke up cautiously.

"Silence!" Snape barked making Malfoy wince even more. "I do not want to hear a word from you until we are in my office."

Malfoy started to nod and then thought better of it, instead simply trotting along and remaining silent as he seethed inwardly. This was all Potter's fault! And he would get the other boy for it.

Once back in the hallway near Snape's office, the Potions Master at last released his captive and ordered, "Get in my office and find a corner."

Draco gasped and spoke the first thing that came to his mind. "You can't be serious!! A corner??!"

The arched eyebrow spoke volumes, but Snape further clarified. "I assure you I am quite serious, Mr. Malfoy. Obey me!"

Without another word Malfoy yanked open the door of the office and stomped over to the nearest corner. This couldn't be happening! The last time he had been treated like this he had been five years old and spending two weeks of the summer with this same man. He was eleven now! Much too old for something like this!

Calmly closing the door, Snape added, "That's another two minutes for your petulant little stomping fit, Draco." Going to his chair, Snape took his seat.

"What??!" Draco wheeled around and stared at Snape in disbelief. "Are you mad??!"

"As a matter of fact I am rather angry," the dark haired wizard responded, deliberately choosing to use the other meaning of the word.

"That's not what I meant," the boy growled in frustration. He purely hated when his godfather bantered words like this.

"I meant for my words to be obeyed. Turn around."

Deciding to try another approach, Draco gave Snape a pitiful look. "Uncle Sev. . ."

"Nose in the corner, Draco."

"Fine!" the boy spun back around with a scowl.

"Two more minutes," came the calm response to the outburst.

Barely biting back an angry retort, Malfoy glared at the wall instead. Potter would pay!!

For twenty minutes Snape graded papers, ignoring the huffs and sighs and fidgeting from the corner for the most part, though he did add another minute when the noises were deliberately growing louder. Laying aside the current red marked paper, the Potions Master looked over at the slim child now standing quietly.

He had long ago vowed to do all he could to help his godson become a good wizard and a good person, despite some of Lucius' teachings. Snape well knew that Draco was the epitome of a rich child. . .spoiled rotten and over indulged by his mother and brushed aside or harshly punished by his father until it was time to parade him forth if the boy happened to meet expectations on some level. Severus had begun when Draco was a small child to allow him to spend two weeks with his godfather in the summer. Once the boy had even begged for and was allowed an entire month. While their relationship wasn't what some would call all roses and rainbows, it suited Snape and Draco. Each knew that the other cared, often more than was ever said aloud.

Snape had been pleased to have the little boy start Hogwarts and be a member of his house so that he could look out for Draco even more. The boy had some bad habits that needed to be broken, such as the need to show off. And Snape fully intended to address that one now.

"Draco, come here."

Turning from the corner, the boy did as he was instructed, a sulky look on his face as he stopped in front of Snape's desk and took up a pose of hands behind his back and head up with the air of one who had had practice with this particular position before.

Getting straight to the point, Snape asked, "Why were you flying when Madame Hooch gave orders that no one was to be off the ground in her absence?"

"Because I could," Draco answered defiantly. "I know how to handle a broom, unlike some of those pathetic idiots."

Snape frowned. "I do not care that you have been flying since you were four, Mr. Malfoy. You were given directions by a professor. Directions which you deliberately and willfully chose to disobey."

Draco shrugged.

"I suggest you adjust the attitude, little boy," Snape warned in a dangerous tone that he knew his godson would know well. "You know how I feel about disobedience."

A flicker of worry registered in Draco's eyes, but he dismissed the tone. They were at school after all. What could Snape do to him here? "I wasn't the only one," he pointed out.

"Yes, I am well aware who else was disobeying," Snape commented coolly. "But Potter is neither in my house nor my concern. You, however, are. And Potter was flying because you lured him to do it."

"What?! It's not my fault he followed! He didn't have to!" The blond boy was incensed.

"Drop the theatrics, Draco. You knew very well that if you taunted him, Potter would follow you. It was what you wanted all along. I dare say you thought you could easily out fly him. Make him look a fool." The flush that rose on the boy's cheeks reveled that Snape's assumptions were true and the man continued. "The point is you broke a rule and you put students in danger."

"Well Potter shouldn't have tried it if he didn't know how to fly. He put his own self at risk. And I wasn't in any danger," Draco complained.

You are in danger of a different sort right now, Snape thought, though he didn't say it aloud. The cocky attitude was bad enough, but the blatant disregard for rules and lack of concern for a life, no matter whose life it was, were totally unacceptable as far as Severus was concerned.

"Ten points from Slytherin for your stunt, Mr. Malfoy," Snape decreed sternly.

Malfoy blinked. "What?? You can't take points from me. . . us. . .your own house!!"

"I just did," Snape commented and then crooked a finger at the boy. "To me, Draco."

As if the points weren't enough shock, the order had Draco frozen in place. He knew what the order usually heralded when he was staying at Snape's house and had managed to land himself in trouble. But now?? "W. . .we're at school, sir," he pointed out in a hesitant voice.

"I am aware of that."

"You. . .you already took points."

"I did." A stern finger pointed to a spot beside the professor's chair.

Draco swallowed hard and took a cautious step. "Uncle Sev. . ."

"Now, Draco."

Biting his lip, Draco slowly but surely moved to the designated spot. Snape pushed his chair back and a bit to the side and looked at the now nervous little boy. Gone was the cocky demeanor that was shown in public. This was his little dragon, the same child that still climbed up on the couch with him to read and talk every night when they were alone in the summer. 

"You know better, Draco. You know what I expect of you and you know how I deal with disobedience."

"But it. . .it's school!" the boy partially wailed. "And it's just Potter!"

"I do not care who it is, Potter or any other student. What you did was wrong and dangerous to everyone involved. Yes, even you," Snape added at the look he was getting. "You were showing off, Draco. You weren't being as careful and observant as you should have been, were you?"

The blond head gave a slight shake. "No, sir."

"Take your robes off and put them on the extra chair for now and then come back here," Snape directed.

With a resigned sigh, Draco obeyed, dreading the next several minutes. He smoothed out his robes a moment, but as his stalling became obvious and Snape cleared his throat, the boy made his way back to the man's side.

Snape opened a drawer of his desk and withdrew a wooden ruler.

"Not that! Please, Uncle Sev!" Draco pleaded, his eyes welling with tears.

Seemingly unmoved, Snape stated firmly, "Yes, this, Draco. Rules exist to keep you safe and you broke them. I will not have you putting yourself in danger, Dragon." Giving the boy a stern look, Snape issued the usual order, "Trousers, Draco."

Sniffling, the boy reluctantly unfastened and lowered his trousers and without having to be told bent across his godfather's lap.

Snape had never liked having to punish children in general, but most especially not his godson. Yet he believed at times it was necessary and a good spanking seemed to work well with his dragon and bring him back in line for quite some time. Laying the ruler aside for the moment, he tugged down Draco's pants and begin to spank the bare bottom with firm swats that stung and turned the skin rosy.

Draco had automatically reached for Snape's leg and held tight like he always did, whimpering a little as his bottom became sorer.

After a  few minutes of brisk spanks, Snape picked up the ruler and felt the boy tense. Draco knew what was coming. Steeling himself, Snape delivered six good cracks of the wooden ruler to the tender bottom and then stopped. Straightening Draco's clothes, Snape pulled the crying boy into a hug.

Draco couldn't help but sob as first Snape's hand and then the ruler set his backside on fire, but the moment it was all over and he was safe in his Uncle Sev's arms, he returned the hug fully, clinging to Snape and crying against his shoulder.

"Hush now, my Dragon. I've got you," Snape consoled as he rubbed Draco's back and held him close until the tears abated. Once Draco was merely sniffling again, Severus gently eased him back enough to tip the boy's chin up and wipe the tears from his face. "I trust we won't have a repeat of this stunt?"

"N. . .no, sir," Draco answered with a slight hitch to his voice. "I'm sorry, Uncle Sev."

Nodding, Snape gave the words needed to end the matter. "All forgiven, little Dragon."

Giving Snape a watery smile, Draco, reached back and gave his backside a rub. "I really hate that thing, you know," he commented with a half teasing pout.

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "You know how to avoid it."

"Yeah, yeah," the boy muttered with a grin.

"Go to your dorm and get some homework done, you cheeky brat," the dark haired wizard ordered.

"Okay, Uncle Sev. . .Professor. . .sir," Draco gave Snape a last squeeze and gathered up his robes. Putting them on, he flashed his normal cocky grin and headed out of the office.

"Why did I become a teacher?" Snape muttered to himself. "I thought it would be an easy way to torture brats. Instead they end up torturing me."

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Harry was almost too excited to eat at dinner, much less notice that Malfoy was sitting carefully with his goons and doing more squirming than usual while alternating glaring at Harry and glancing at the teacher's table. The young Gryffindor chatted away to Ron about Quidditch, even though they had been going at it for over an hour already.

"I've got to keep it a secret though," Harry cautioned Ron for the fortieth time.

"I know, mate, you told me, remember," Ron commented as he took another heaping bite of food. "But the youngest in a century. . .it's bloody fantastic."

"Yeah," Harry beamed and set to work eating a bit himself.

"You know," Ron spoke though a mouthful of potato, "Fred and George are on the team too, and so our folks can cheer for you too now when they come for a match."

Harry's grin slipped slightly and he nodded. "That'd be nice."

Ron noticed however and gave his friend a quizzical look. "You don't want 'em to or something? I promise I'll make Mum not kiss you in public. Well if I can. She's got some weird ideas." The boy shrugged apologetically.

"No, it's not that," the dark haired boy answered. "It's just. . .well, McGonagall said that my dad was a really good Quidditch player too. And that. . .that he would have been proud of me." Harry shook his head and concentrated on his plate, the last comment softly spoken. "I just wish he could be here to see me."

Not knowing exactly what to say to that one, Ron patted Harry's shoulder in a friendly gesture and both boys finished the meal without further comment.

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Climbing in bed later that night, Harry pulled the covers up and lay looking up at the ceiling. It had been an eventful day. He had thought for sure he was going to be expelled when first McGonagall and then Snape had charged toward them at flying practice. Instead Snape had glared but seized Malfoy. Now that was a moment to savor, Harry grinned to himself as he recalled the other boy trotting off with Snape pulling him by the ear. Probably got off with no more than that, but still, the moment was one to file away.

Then instead of  being expelled or punished in any way, he had landed the position of Seeker on the house Quidditch team. With a contented sigh, Harry closed his eyes. His dreams would be sweet this night.

"And so I suggest that you keep an eye on things and not allow them to escalate and. . ." Professor McGonagall stopped and looked at her companion. Holding back a sigh, she shook her head knowing by the look of the man he had heard nothing of the last few minutes rant. "Severus!"

Snape looked up, his eyes focusing on the witch in the other chair across the desk. "Yes?"

"You have not heard a word of what I have said, have you?"

A light snort was the first answer followed by the typical Snape attitude. "Oh course I have, Minerva. It would be impossible to ignore one of your speeches. I've tried."

The look that was sent his way would have reduced any student in Hogwarts to a whimpering child and indeed had nearly the same effect on Severus Snape. The Potions Master dropped his head, appearing for all the world like a contrite schoolboy called on the carpet over some misdeed.

Satisfied that she had made her point without a word, the stern witch eyed Snape thoughtfully. "You've had another dream, haven't you?"

Why did she have to be so bloody perceptive? Or know him so well? Severus wondered not for the first time. Still not meeting McGonagall's eye, he nodded and responded quietly, "Yes. Last night."

Giving vent to her sigh now, Minerva softened her tone a bit, the action alone showing her true concern for the younger man. "Why do you have to be so stubborn, Severus? Why continue to fight it?"

"Because!" he snapped, and then immediately berated himself for the stupidity and childishness of that answer. By Merlin's beard, this woman could always make him feel like a misbehaving lad and it frustrated Snape no end.

"Because it's Potter," McGonagall supplied. At the expected nod her tone sharpened again. "And it is because it is Potter that you need to answer the call," she stated. "Harry is not James, Severus. I doubt that he ever will have the same capacity for spitefulness that James had. You have only to look at the boy, and I mean REALLY look," she clarified, "and you would know the truth." Taking a deep breath, Minerva said what needed to be said and hoped for the best.  "The past can't be changed, the future can be. Stop hiding, Severus."

The dark head shot up and Snape glared daggers at the woman. "How dare you," he hissed, half rising from the chair. "I do not hide!!"

"I dare because I care." The statement was simple and Minerva met Snape's angry eyes. "And you do. Until you reconcile things within yourself, Severus, accept them and move on to better things that are available, there will forever be two hurt young boys that need someone."

"I think this meeting is over. If you have anything else to say on the topic which you called me here for originally then I will see if I can make time for another meeting. But I will not discuss this topic to which you have deviated again. Good afternoon, McGonagall." Snape stood and swept from the room, robes swirling behind him.

Shaking her head at the departure, Minerva sighed deeply.

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Who does she think she is?? Snape fumed to himself as he stormed back to the dungeons. Telling me that I hide! Implying that I am still a child! The Potions Master had to catch himself and not slam the door of his office. And all this because of the bloody Brat-That-Lived!

Snape paced the floor, his mind going over and over not only what Minerva had said but a thousand other memories that seemed to fight their way through his normal defenses. Memories of a sad little boy huddled in a corner, dark eyes imploring someone to love him. Memories of an older child sitting alone, pretending to study, while watching the fun of his classmates with longing eyes. Memories of a youth whose face revealed nothing of the inner hurt, only the eyes spoke of a pain that went deep.

Always the eyes were the key. And now as he thought about things, the eyes changed from a set of black ones to a pair of green ones. Eyes shining from behind glasses. Eyes that were confused. Eyes that were lonely. Eyes that in the dream seemed to look at his very soul and silently beg to be recognized.

And that was the problem. Snape knew all to well the look and what it meant, what it asked for and wanted. And he wasn't the man to give it.

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Harry sighed and rubbed his hand. Looking over at Ron he inquired, "How much?'

"A good eight inches left," Ron answered miserably. "You?"

"About six," Harry responded, looking down at the parchment again. A short essay, Professor McGonagall had called it. The boy wondered how two feet of writing could be considered short. Then again, Harry frowned, it was short by comparison to Snape's four and five footers.

"We'll never make it by in the morning," Ron whined. "We'll be up all night."

Harry very nearly commented that was a good thing, but held his tongue and just nodded. He wasn't going to reveal his secret to Ron, but in truth Harry Potter would have been all too happy to stay up all night. If he were awake then the nightmares couldn't come. And they had been happening nearly every night now and it seemed to the boy that more and more details were revealed with each one. Details that he could live without just fine, thank you. Not only the sights and sounds were clearer now, but also there were smells. And feelings. It was the feelings that were perhaps the worse. The fear, the hatred, the deep sadness. . .all of them seemed to nearly suffocate Harry. But there was something more now. Harry wasn't exactly sure what it was, but it was there. Sighing, he went back to work on his essay.

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Snape laid aside the book and rose from the chair. It was late, even for him. But the Potions Master had hoped to be weary enough to sink into a deep sleep which did not allow for dreams. Snape, above all, knew the dangers of becoming addicted to potions and had attempted to use the Dreamless Sleep sparingly.

Going to his bedroom, he made ready for sleep and climbed into bed, adding a silent plea that tonight be a normal night of sleep. No potions. No dreams. Just blissful rest.

Unfortunately it was not to be.

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Whimpers shook the small body. He could feel the bad man's meanness; his hatred. His mother was scared too but she was acting brave. But Harry knew it would do no good. He wanted to stop what was happening, warn his mother, push her out of harms way. But it was too late. The green flash came and with it the screams of both his mother and himself. Then the bad man started toward him and Harry shrunk back. And then there was movement at the door again. A figure. . .a man. . .stood there. With a slight cry, Harry reached toward the man, instinctively feeling that if they could only touch, he would be safe. But the man stayed where he was. Crying now, Harry tried to make the man come to him, begging silently for help. The man shifted briefly. Was he going to. . .? Oh please! Help me! Harry thought. But no. As before the man turned and disappeared.

This time the sobs couldn't be held back as Harry fought himself out of the nightmare. He had been so close. There had been a moment where he had been sure that he had someone to help him. But once again he had been left alone. And the boy felt it keenly this time. Not just left. . .rejected.

Turning his face into his pillow, Harry Potter sobbed his heart out.

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NO!!! Inwardly, Severus Snape raged even as he threw back the bedcovers and got to his feet. Not bothering to dress this time, he seized his dressing gown and belted around his waist on the way to his favorite chair. Sitting down, he gazed into the fire.

This couldn't go on. He had to find a way to counteract it. There MUST be a way, regardless of what that old fool Dumbledore said. He knew full well that he couldn't hold out much longer. Snape snorted even as he thought it. Severus Snape succumbing to Harry Potter. The wizard who could take some of the Dark Lord's worse curses without a whimper, could writhe in pain but never break. He who had known the meaning of hurt from earliest childhood. And now he was nearly ready to give up? No, Snape would not, could not, allow it to happen.

Yet tonight. . .tonight he had found those eyes on him again. Their piercing green gaze going deep, into his soul. The plea for help, while silent, so strong and loud it cancelled out anything else for a moment. And in that moment he had moved. Had started lifting his hand. Had almost gone too far. No, never could he bridge that gap. There had to be way to end this.

Pulling his gaze from the fire, Snape eyed his bookshelves. Somewhere out there was a book, a manuscript that would help him win this fight without giving in. And he would find it! Going to the shelves, Snape pulled out a volume and settled himself to read.

The air was getting chillier and the latest school year at Hogwarts had been going on for nearly two months now. Two months. Long enough for a good many of the old students to settle back into their old routines and for the first years to start making one. Long enough for friendships to be established or reaffirmed. Long enough to make Severus Snape's life hell. Never before had two months seemed so long.

Everyone else in the castle was in high spirits as the days ticked by to the first large celebration of the year after the welcoming feast. It was nearly time for the Halloween banquet. There were decorations in the corridors, not the flimsy little paper cutouts that the muggles used, but real ones. In the main entrance hall suits of armor stood sentry and raised their swords to form an arch for any passing them and ascending the stairs. Skeletons flanked doorways, jack-o-lanterns rested on rails or door posts and could be heard conversing with each other at times, and the garlands on the banisters were fashioned of snakes. The castle ghosts, especially those who had met their end somewhere near Halloween, where more vocal than ever, telling their tales to groups of students in small gatherings in ways that were much better than any muggle ghost story, mainly because these stories were true and the proof of them floated before the students. All in all things were as usual at the school for this time of year. At least for the majority.

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Snape stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the cluster of students. Potter had just returned from Quidditch practice obviously, as he still held his broom and was in the company of the Weasley twins. The youngest Weasley boy had come running up to them to convey some totally inane gossip no doubt. Snape sneered at the little scene. Disgusting really.

Harry felt eyes on him. Familiar eyes. He turned and found Snape staring at them and the boy met the man's gaze. It was only for a moment, but Harry felt as though something, he wasn't sure what, had touched him. Turning his head, he tried to ignore the feeling, instead nudging Ron and whispering. "Let's go to our dorm."

Ron turned to see what had caused the change in his friend and spotted Snape. "Yeah, our dorm would be much better," he agreed. "It's private." He raised his voice a bit on the last comment, causing Snape to arch his eyebrow.

"Well, we need to change anyway and then we can settle in and tell you about Harry's practice," Fred put in. "Even managed to impress Wood, which is saying something."

George led the way toward the Gryffindor tower, past Snape, lightly speaking as he did, "Afternoon, Professor. Best make sure your team has extra practice time. They'll need it!"

"Will they indeed, Mr. Weasley? I believe they are capable of handling SMALL matters." Snape gave Harry a pointed look and moved down the stairs away from the boys.

"Ruddy git," Ron muttered under his breath after they were out of earshot. Harry remained quiet, only once glancing back over his shoulder at the retreating form of the Potions Master.

Snape continued on to the hospital wing and his original destination. He needed to give Madame Pomfrey a few vials of potions that she had asked for as well as consult with her about several more. Potions, he thought to himself, keep your mind on your work, man. Not on that bloody brat! But try as he might, Snape could not deny what had just happened. They had touched. Briefly. But it had been there. And not in a dream this time. Damn! He still couldn't believe this. Couldn't, wouldn't accept it. Not now. Not ever.

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"What do you suppose we will have to eat?" Ron speculated. "It has to be something pumpkin with all the smells. But it could be pumpkin pie, pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread. . ."

"Will you stop that?" Harry's stomach was responding to the list of food with a few little growls. "All you think about is food."

"Nothing wrong with that," the red head grinned back as both boys pulled on their robes.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend. It was Halloween and time for a banquet and some fun. Classes had only been for half a day in honor of the celebration. The little boy felt that the day was going great and tonight would be wonderful. In fact for the most part the last two months had been better than any other time in his life. He had a best friend, not to mention other friends in his dorm mates. Classes were going okay, well, if potions was ignored. He had become the youngest Seeker in a century and found out that he loved flying. Now if only he could somehow end the dreams that were plaguing him consistently now, life would be grand.

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He hated holidays and celebrations. Loathed them. They served no real purpose. Snape readied himself for the traditional Halloween banquet with a scowl. If the Headmaster did not expect. . nay, order. . .all the teachers to attend, Snape would have happily stayed in his rooms, brewing more potions or at the very least reading and relaxing. He would not be attempting to be polite while dodging bats and watching as an entire school of brats was allowed to overindulge and be on a sugar high or make themselves sick. With a sigh of disgust, the Potions Master adjusted his robes a final time and strode from his rooms, sneer firmly in place.

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As it turned out all of Ron's choices had been correct. There WAS pumpkin bread, warm and spicy; as well as pumpkin soup and pumpkin pie in the form of small individual tarts. Not to mention the vast array of other foods. Baked potatoes, meat pies, roast chicken, and an assortment of vegetables. All manner of apple treats rivaled the pumpkin selection. . .baked apples; apple turnovers; candied, caramel, and toffee apples; and of course a large bowl full of plain apples, crisp and sweet and ready to be munched. And best of all cauldrons full of candy, both ordinary and the more magical variety! Lollipops as big as Harry's hand, toffee, chocolate frogs, and a dozen others, some of which Harry had never seen. It was too good to be true. The boy was laughing and eating and totally enjoying himself, as was everyone around him. The noise level of the Great Hall was practically double what it normally was.

But despite all this revelry, when the doors banged open the huge room was suddenly silent. Professor Quirrell burst in, looking like a wild man and yelling his head off about a troll before fainting dead away. Immediately the noise returned, this time one of chaos and panic and even louder than the previous level of gayety. Screams resounded, yells echoed, questions and speculations flew faster than the swooping bats.

And again the hall was brought to utter silence by the Headmaster's commanding, booming voice. Orders were given and began to be followed. Ron grabbed a handful of candy and crammed it into his robe pockets before joining Harry and the other first year Gryffindors hurrying after Percy.

Harry was as scared as any of the students, but as he climbed the stairs and made his way along the corridor with the others, speculating with Ron as to how a troll could have gotten in, Harry suddenly froze.

"Hermione!"

Ron gave him a puzzled look. "What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll!"

"Someone will check the bathrooms. Come on," Ron started walking again.

Harry frowned. No one else would think of it. They were all too panicked. And the teachers, even if they had known Hermione was missing, were all heading to the dungeons. "I'm going find her."

"You've lost your bloody mind!" Ron exclaimed, but he turned and came back to Harry. "Oh alright, but let's hurry!"

Both boys set off down the hall at a run, breaking to a halt when they heard other footsteps. Big, loud footsteps. Looking at each other with wide eyes, Harry and Ron hid until the troll had lumbered past. And entered. . .

"AHHHHH!!!!"

"The girls' bathroom!" Harry and Ron shouted as one and ran forward once more, wands out and ready.

The scene of Hermione huddled under the sinks and terrified out of her wits spurred Harry to leap into action. Literally. Without a thought to his foolhardiness, the boy launched himself on the troll's back, managing to lodge his wand in one of the creature's nostrils. This action only served to further enrage the hulking brute and put not only Hermione, but now Harry and Ron is very grave danger.

As the troll bellowed in pain and swung the club around, Harry added his own yells to those of Hermione for Ron, the most inept of the trio, to do something. And amazingly, Ron did.

Moments later Harry found himself on the floor and then watched as the troll toppled over, shaking the room with his gargantuan size. Retrieving his wand and trying not to be sick, Harry wiped it clean. No sooner had the children turned for the door than they found themselves facing opponents every bit as formidable as a troll in the sight of the eleven year olds. Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell.

"What were you three doing??!" Professor McGonagall demanded with a glare that could have frozen water and effectively chilled her three students.

"I. . .we. . ." Harry gulped. It didn't help matters that Snape was giving him a piercing look. The boy lowered his gaze quickly.

"It was my fault."

Every head turned toward the quiet voice as Hermione stepped forward.

"Your fault, Miss Granger?" McGonagall questioned. "How?"

"Well, I had read about trolls and wanted to see one and so I. . .I went looking for it," the young girl responded in a halting voice. "Harry and Ron saved my life."

Quirrell tsked and shook his head, earning him a glare of his own from the Potions Master and the hiss, "If you can not be of help, I suggest you leave. Professor McGonagall and I are capable of handling this."

The timid little professor bobbed his head and hastily departed, though none of the children really paid him any heed. They were all too worried about their Head of House's reaction.

"I am shocked and disappointed, Miss Granger. I had expected better from you," the older witch said sternly. "Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for you foolishness, Miss Granger. Return to your dormitory immediately."

"Yes ma'am," Hermione whispered. After a quick glance at the boys, she hurried away.

"As for you two," McGonagall now turned her gaze to Harry and Ron. "Why were you even near, let alone IN the girls' bathroom?"

"We heard Hermione scream and ran to help," Harry supplied.

"Indeed." McGonagall pursed her lips and looked down at the duo. "And amazingly enough, you did manage to help. It is a miracle any of you children survived. Nothing more than sheer dumb luck that you were able to overcome a fully grown mountain troll."

Harry and Ron darted a glance at each other. Were they going to possibly survive after all?

"Therefore," the woman continued, "I am awarding each of you five points."

The boys grinned broadly. Not only had they survived, they had gotten back points! As McGonagall turned to leave, she exchanged a brief look with Snape, but then nodded and continued on her way.

Temporarily forgetting Snape's presence, Ron exalted. "Ten points, Harry! Do you hear that? AND we'll be heroes!"

A snort brought them back to reality. "Not likely, Mr. Weasley," Snape sneered. "You will be known as lucky, nothing more. It is time you headed back to your dorm."

Frowning, Ron looked ready to say something, but then settled for stalking off a few paces. "Come on, Harry. We'll go where we're appreciated."

Harry was plenty glad to leave the area, but as he made to follow his friend, a hand descended on his shoulder. Looking up he found Snape looking back coldly.

"You are coming with me, Potter." Without further ado, the Potions Master guided Harry past a speechless Ron and off in the directions of the man's office.

s s s s s s s s s s

Why me? It wasn't just me, Harry wanted to protest, but found the words sticking in his throat. He wanted to refuse to go with Snape, but that wasn't an option with the firm grip on his shoulder. What was happening? Why was Snape taking over? McGonagall had already dealt with them.

Stopping in front of his office door, Snape opened it and ushered Potter in, closing the door behind them. Then going to his desk, the professor stood at the corner of it, rather than take a seat in his chair. "McGonagall might be willing to buy the excuse that you just happened to hear Miss Granger scream, but I do not. I think you went looking for the troll for the sole purpose of proving you are indeed a great and mighty wizard, didn't you? And your little friends," he sneered, "went along for the thrill. Isn't that it?? I want the full story. Now, Potter!"

"NO!" Harry yelled, glaring at the man who was the one dark spot on his new life here at Hogwarts. "I didn't! I wasn't playing hero as you say! I DID hear Hermione scream. You can ask Ron. Which you SHOULD be doing! We were BOTH there. Why are you picking on ME?"

Snape glared at the boy. Insolent little brat! "What you should be doing is not raising your voice to me, Potter. It is a very bad idea," the professor warned in a cold voice. "I am not picking on you, as you claim. I simply know there is more to this story and I will find out the truth. By whatever means necessary."

Harry involuntarily took a step back at the last comment. By whatever means necessary? Just what means did Snape have at his disposal, the boy wondered. Were teachers allowed to hex students? He hoped not, but then again, they were alone here. Snape could do as he liked and no one would know. Harry felt decidedly nervous.

"I am waiting, Potter. And I warn you, I am not a patient man," Snape commented dryly as he continued to glare at Harry.

Yeah, no kidding, Harry thought, but frowned up at the Potions Master. "There was a bit of trouble earlier today and Hermione was hiding in the bathroom because she was upset. Ron and I knew and when we were on the way back to the dorm, I thought about how no one would know where she was and she wouldn't know about the troll. And then we heard her scream and ran to help. And we DID help!"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Mind your tone, Mr. Potter. So instead of alerting a prefect or anyone older than yourselves, you and Mr. Weasley decided you were able to take on a mountain troll."

"Well we didn't know what kind of a troll it was." Harry was a bit surprised at his own flippant answer, but darn it, Snape was making him mad. He'd already been lectured by Professor McGonagall and in his mind, Snape had no right to add anything to that.

The dark eyes narrowed. "Five points for insolence, Mr. Potter."

"What? But you can't!"

"I assure you I can. And will continue to for as long as you wish to show me disrespect."

Harry fumed. It was so completely unfair. Now with his five points gone and Hermione's five points canceling out Ron's award, they were right back where they had started from.

As though reading his mind, Snape smirked. "Yes, the Gryffindor total is exactly as it was before the troll incident. It is as if it never happened. Only, it did happen, Mr. Potter. And you risked your life for no reason."

That did it! Harry's temper erupted and he stomped closer to Snape. "There WAS a reason, you stupid git!! Hermione was reason enough!! But then you could care less since she isn't one of you bloody snakes!!"

If the boy had suddenly hit him, Snape couldn't have been any more shocked. But the surprise rapidly turned to anger. Seizing Harry by the front of his robes, he lifted the child a couple inches. "Any student is cause for concern, boy! And there were three in danger tonight! Danger that could have been lessened if you had used your head and told someone what was going on instead of running headlong into a situation that you were not prepared for!"

Lowering the boy to the floor again, but maintaining a hold on him, Snape moved to his chair, dragging Harry with him. "I warned you not to yell at me, Mr. Potter. I am not in the habit of tolerating such blatant disrespect from students and I will not start now or make an exception for the Boy-Who-Lived. You will learn to mind your tongue." The Potions Master began removing Harry's robes, tossing them on the desk when he was done.

Most of Harry's temper had vanished when Snape lifted him off the floor. He still didn't fully believe this man could care about anyone, let alone a Gryffindor, but he had known it would be best to stay quiet when he was dangling above the floor. Then, finding himself pulled over to the professor's chair, he wondered just what was going on. The further lecture unnerved Harry even more. This didn't sound good and he was about to offer protest or an apology, he wasn't entirely certain which he felt the most like voicing. Only he never got the chance. His robes were removed and he looked at Snape in shock. "Wh. . .what are you d. . .doing??"

"Something that needs to be done," Snape stated as he yanked the boy over his lap.

Oh no!! No! He couldn't! Not seriously. . .he wasn't going to. . . Harry begin to struggle. "Stop! You can't!"

A sharp swat let Harry know that his teacher COULD. And worse than that, Harry felt his trousers being pulled down and. . .the boy whimpered in shame and fear. . .his underpants followed. Closing his eyes tightly, Harry tried to pretend this wasn't happening. He hadn't been punished like this since Dudley's sixth birthday party when he had dared to touch one of the toys his cousin received when he thought no one was looking. His uncle had paddled his backside so hard that it took two days before he could sit comfortably again. After that though, Uncle Vernon had decided Harry was a 'big boy' and used much more than his hand. The child shuddered at the memory but was brought quickly back to the present when Snape's hand smacked against his bare seat. Biting back a yelp, Harry squirmed. It stung just as much as he remembered.

"You will address adults with respect. You will not yell at them. Or be insolent." Each of Snape's comments was accompanied by a flurry of spanks that caused Harry to squirm more and forced out first little whimpers and then yelps as the awful sting built.

"Alright, I won't, I won't," he promised, just wanting this over. "Please stop." Harry didn't want to cry in front of this man, but he might if this continued much longer.

Snape gave no verbal response. Instead his hand supplied the answer that this was far from over as it continued firmly striking the upturned bottom. He was going to impart a good lesson to this particular student. The nerve of the little brat! Speaking to him. . .no not speaking, yelling. . .as he had. Snape landed a strong swat and heard a sniffle. Cheeky. Insolent. Prideful. Foolish. How dare he risk his life the way he had? Didn't he understand that life was a gift? And in his case a gift given at great cost.

As Snape's thoughts shifted to what could have happened to this child, he also shifted Harry further over his lap and the smacks became harder. "You do not rush headlong into things. You tell an adult and ask for help. You do not risk your life, Potter!" Even as he said the words, something seemed to register with the Potions Master, but he brushed it aside for the moment and concentrated on the task at hand.

Harry was sniffling as the spanking went on, but valiantly holding back the tears. Then he felt himself moved a little and his lower bottom exploded in pain. The assault on his tender sitting area caused the dam to break and Harry's tears flowed freely. He was certain that his backside was now engulfed in flames.

As the boy hung over his lap, crying, Snape felt Potter had learned his lesson. Giving the heated area one final spank, he stopped and replaced first underpants and then trousers over the reddened little bottom. Standing the boy up in front of him, Snape spoke sternly. "I hope I have made myself clear on a few things, Mr. Potter. It would be in your best interests to think about what I have said and learn from this incident."

Choking back sobs, Harry longed to rub at the stinging pain, but wouldn't allow himself to in front of Snape. Made himself clear?? Oh it was beyond clear! Harry thought to himself. He nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. "Y. . .yes...s....sir."

"Good. Then you need to get back to your dorm and get some sleep," Snape commented, handing Harry his robes.

Taking the words as a dismissal, Harry whispered another yes, sir, and departed as swiftly as he could with a sore bottom, his robes nowhere near correctly put on.

Snape watched the boy go, feeling a tug, almost like a nagging thought at the back of his mind. He frowned as he stood and moved to the hidden door leading to his chambers. He had first been aware of a slight difference while he was spanking the boy. His initial anger had changed to irritation and frustration with the entire fiasco. The very idea of an eleven year old going after a troll! That was it! Snape stopped cold. The feeling. The words, so similar to what he had spoken to Draco. The reason behind the words and the spanking. Concern. Bloody hell!! He couldn't! He wouldn't!!

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry had made his way slowly back to the tower, rubbing his backside plenty along the way. The sting had subsided some, but the undercurve where his weight would be when he sat down, was still plenty sore. The tears had stopped and he had paused long enough to wash his face in a boy's bathroom, so that when he stepped trough the portrait hole, Harry looked nearly normal.

Ron practically attacked him as soon as he entered. "Are you alright?" the red head demanded. "Did that sod give you detention?"

"No, he didn't give me detention," Harry answered honestly. No, he just walloped my butt instead, he thought. As to Ron's other question, what exactly constituted alright? But Harry found himself stating, "Yeah, I'm alright. Just kind of tired now. I'm going to head to bed."

Frowning somewhat at his friend's response but deciding not to push it after the day and night they had all had, Ron nodded. "Okay, mate. Night then."

"Night," Harry returned and started toward the stairs.

s s s s s s s s s s

There were more shadows. Harry noticed that right away. Everything seemed darker this time. Was it because he was utterly alone now? The bad man entered the room, the evil, maniacal laughter sounding louder than usual. Harry winced at the sound. It was so cruel. The fear rose, an almost tangible force in the room. The boy knew what was coming next, couldn't prevent it, couldn't even close his eyes against it. The words, the blinding flash, his mother falling. . .falling. . .and then. . .then the bad man turning for him.

Harry shot a look toward the door. Please be there, he begged, please. I need you so! The doorway was empty.

Tears coursed down the boy's cheeks as the bad man sneered and raised his wand. And then he saw it. Not in the doorway, but directly behind the bad man. The man. He had moved closer this time. Still shrouded in shadow, Harry had no a clue who it was, but whoever it was had to be better than the bad man.

Please! Please, help me! He sobbed and once again reached out, his arm stretching as far as it would go, his eyes shining with tears and making a desperate silent plea of their own. The man stood there. For one brief moment, Harry held out hope and then despair took over. He started to lower his hand. The mocking laughter rose again.

Suddenly there was a jolt as though something had struck him. Strong fingers clasped his own and held tightly and firmly. A tingle spread up his arm and filled his entire body with a warmth that Harry couldn't recall ever feeling before. It was an odd sensation, yet at the same time it felt. . .right. He somehow knew that things were going to be different now. There was a sense of safety. He wasn't alone anymore.

A scream filled the air. But this time it wasn't the scream of a terrified little boy. It was a scream of rage, at a plan thwarted, at a defeat not imaginable. Harry looked to the bad man and saw his face contort for a split second before he vanished, leaving behind only the faint echo of his scream.

Harry turned toward the man. The one who had lingered in the shadows until Harry had given up hope. The one who had finally come to help him. Who now held his hand, keeping him safe and secure. His savior.

The man stepped closer, out of the shadows. The boy looked up, and. . .

Harry bolted upright in bed with a gasp, his eyes huge as he broke off the dream. Snape?!!!!

s s s s s s s s s s

In his own bedroom, Snape sat on the edge of his bed, breathing heavily. What in Merlin's name had he done??!!

The slender fingers drummed on the top of the desk as they had been doing for the last quarter of an hour. Before that it was the floor which had had full attention as the professor paced back and forth to no avail. There was no rational explanation for what had occurred the night before. Why he, Severus Snape, revered Potions Master, feared Death Eater, powerful wizard, had suddenly behaved like a sentimental idiot. And all over a pair of eyes; bright green, piercing, searching, beseeching green eyes.

Sighing, Snape rubbed his forehead, seeming to stir up the memory of what had happened. After punishing the brat for his stupidity involving the troll, Snape had attempted to read before retiring to his bed. However that was not as easy as normal. The Potions Master had already been filled with questions as to just why he had suddenly stepped in and taken Potter in hand. He wasn't the boy's head of house. McGonagall had already handed out her scolding, such as it was. Severus snorted remembering the mildness of the words compared to some that he had received as a student. There had been no reason for him to say or do anything. Yet he had.

Severus had repeatedly told himself that he had done it as a way to make Potter's life more miserable. But he knew it wasn't true. For all his renowned sternness, Snape was just that, stern, but not one to deliberately go out of his way to be unduly harsh to a student, even the Brat-Who-Lived. No, there was more. Things that he didn't want to think about. Things he shoved aside. Things that had kept returning to his mind. Until finally the man had given up the pretense of reading and sat staring at the fire admitting that yes, for some unknown, unexplained, absolutely insane reason, Snape had felt worried when he saw the little boy near the hulking mass of the unconscious troll.

Students had come and gone through the school for several years with Snape as a teacher and he had not cared a whit about any one of them in particular, indeed had been glad to see the majority of them depart. Not until his godson entered Hogwarts two months ago could he have ever said that he had even a modicum of gladness to see a child. And most certainly the Potions Master was not overjoyed to lay eyes on the son of his old schooldays enemy!

Yet there was something about the bloody brat. Something that had had Severus watching him from the first night, even against his will. As he had pondered it the previous night, Severus had to admit that he had noted how small and frail Potter appeared to be. In a deep part of his being he had been concerned for the boy. Even more so once the blasted dreams started and he had seen those eyes. It had taken the sight of Potter beside the troll, the thought of what might have happened to this child, to make Snape react.

Smirking to himself at his desk now, the professor would be willing to bet that Potter liked Snape's reaction to foolishly endangering one's life about as much as Draco did. But to a man who had seen so much loss, had even been a part of causing some of it, life was too precious to be risked needlessly. And Snape would make sure that Harry as well as Draco was reminded of that as needed.

Wait! Oh Merlin!! Had he just thought of the brat by his first name??! Snape groaned. He had! Well, THAT wouldn't be happening again!

And then, as if caring enough to spank the brat wasn't bad enough he had done what had to be one of the stupidest things he had ever done in his life. He had reached out.

Snape could still vividly recall the night's dream. He had silently made his way from the door to a closer spot this time. That had been his down fall. If the Potions Master had thought the eyes were hard to resist from across the room it was nothing compared to when they were a mere few feet away. He had stood behind the Dark Lord and felt the evil pouring off the man and shuddered. Then he had dared look at the child. Frightened green eyes stared directly at him, begging still but yet. . .Snape had been shocked to see something new there. A resignment, a look of hopelessness that no child should possess. In the space of a second he had understood that he was the reason for that look. And that knowledge had cut him to the heart. It was then that the concern he had felt earlier at seeing Potter and the troll surged through him once more, prompting him to do what he had fought against, but what was right. He had reached out and taken the small hand, holding it tightly in a silent promise, forgetting for the moment that this was Harry Potter that he had just connected with and would now forever be bonded with.

The emotions were what was right at the time, but then as he and the boy had looked at each other and Potter realized who his rescuer was. . .Snape sighed. The dream had been broken off quicker than ever before. And now. . .now what was he supposed to do? Albus and Minerva would have a field day if they found out. And then there was Potter himself. How would the brat react now? Oh and of course he had had to pick the night before the boy had his class to finally acknowledge the bloody link, Snape further berated himself as he glanced at the clock and then the door of his classroom. He had foregone breakfast so as not to see Potter, but there was no way Severus Snape would miss teaching one of his classes!

Noting the time, the Potions Master cleared his mind of the confusing thoughts and stood up, going to do a second, nay, a third check that everything was ready for the lesson. And he was not a moment too soon in setting about the seemingly normal routine.

The door opened and the first year potions students entered. As assorted groups of Slythrins and Gryffindors filed in, Snape couldn't help but notice the absence of two students, namely Potter and Weasley.

s s s s s s s s s s

"Come ON!"

Harry tore down the corridor after Ron, robes not fastened and flapping around them. They were going to be late! And to Snape's class at that! Then again, after last night, Harry was quite willing to just skip the class entirely. Between the 'special' punishment for the troll incident and then the. . .no, he refused to think about the dream or what it meant.

Reaching the door of the potions classroom, Harry and Ron exchanged looks, neither over anxious to open the door and go inside. After another minute, Harry took a deep breath and entered, Ron on his heels.

"And so the effects of the potion will wear off in. . . " Snape stopped mid lecture and glared at the latecomers. "Five points from Gryffindor for your lack of ability to tell time, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter," he snapped. Then without so much as looking at the boys again, Snape continued with the class.

Ron grumbled but took his seat. Harry however was a bit puzzled as he slid in next to his friend. No prolonged glare directed at him. No harassing comments. The boy wondered briefly if Snape was ill.

"Is there a reason you find me so fascinating, Potter?" The snide voice and the snickering from the Slytherin side of the room brought Harry back to the realization that Snape had stopped speaking and everyone else was going about starting the potion of the day, while he was simply staring at the professor.

"No," Harry mumbled, dropping his head and adding under his breath, "who would find you fascinating?" So much for thinking he's not feeling up to his normal charm, Harry thought.

s s s s s s s s s s

Snape prowled the classroom as usual during the course of the lesson. He noted with some satisfaction that Potter seemed even more incompetent than normal today, and not just when the professor was near him. He was jumpy and on edge in general. Good, the Potions Master thought. At least Snape wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable with this entire thing.

"The directions clearly state FOUR spoonfuls of powdered hellebore, Mr. Potter, not seven," the dark haired wizard remarked as he stood behind Harry and Ron. "Are your counting skills that poor, or are you simply not paying attention?"

The comment did nothing for Harry's nerves and the boy's hand shook as he held the bottle of powdered hellebore, inadvertently dumping even more of the questioned ingredient into his simmering cauldron. A small 'POW' was heard, promptly followed by a puff of lemon yellow smoke.

Rolling his eyes, Snape quickly waved his wand and the contents of the cauldron disappeared along with the gaseous cloud. "Stupid boy! While you might enjoy the attentions of Madame Pomfrey, I can assure you that I, and I daresay the rest of the class, have no desire to visit either the hospital wing or the adjoining bathrooms. Hellebore is a powerful purgative and with the mixture you just concocted the fumes alone would have sent us all running for some relief."

"I. . .I'm sorry, sir," Harry blushed and looked down at the table.

Snape sneered at the boy. "I will be expecting a twelve inch essay from you explaining the properties and PROPER uses of hellebore on my desk at the start of the next class meeting, Potter."

Harry nodded, not looking up. "Yes, sir." Here it comes, he thought to himself, already quoting in his mind the next comment he was sure he would hear.

"That is a zero for the day as well, Mr. Potter," Snape announced predictably before resuming his stalking around the classroom.

Sighing, Harry begin cleaning up his supplies. No sense in just sitting here. He caught Ron's look and shrugged. It wasn't as if Harry wasn't used to getting zeroes for his practical work in potions. The written part he had thus far managed to barely pass, it just marginally being up to Snape's standards, but the actual mixing of the potions was a different story. But in Harry's mind it was because Snape always hovered over him.

The green eyes glanced over at where Snape was informing one of the Slytherins that while they were close, their potion was the wrong color because of the number of times they had stirred it. Harry thought back to the previous night's events and wondered again just what it all meant. He wanted to know but there was no one he could talk to about it and he certainly wasn't going to speak to Snape!

As class was dismissed, Harry filed out with the rest of the students, not looking back even though he could feel the eyes on him.

s s s s s s s s s s

Two sets of eyes carefully watched the dark haired figure at the table and after exchanging a knowing glance, Dumbledore nodded to Professor McGonagall. 'After the meal,' he mouthed to the witch, who nodded back in return.

s s s s s s s s s s

At the knock on the door, Severus wondered if he could simply ignore it and the duo he felt sure were on the other side would go away. He snorted to himself at the wishful thinking. Not likely. With a sigh, the Potions Master laid his book aside and went to the door of his chambers. So much for reading and privacy tonight.

"Headmaster, Minerva, what a surprise," Snape greeted. A surprise you waited this long to meddle in my life again, he thought to himself.

"Severus, my boy, may we come in?" Dumbledore smiled congenially.

Holding back another sigh, Snape nodded and stepped aside to allow his colleagues entrance. "What brings you to the dungeons?"

"Why you of course," the Headmaster made himself comfortable in a chair and continued smiling at the younger wizard.

Snape only barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes. "What about me?"

"Perhaps we could discuss that over tea, hmm?" Dumbledore suggested, conjuring up a tea service with a flick of his wand.

Bloody old coot and his tea! Snape thought irritably and looked over at McGonagall. "What is the problem now, Minerva. You have that look."

"And what look would that be, Severus?" McGonagall questioned as she politely accepted a cup of tea from Albus.

The one where I'm about to be made to feel like a ruddy child, Severus responded to himself, but aloud he answered, "As if you had something on your mind."

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea and spoke up. "I believe we all have something on our minds, my boy. Including you."

"I have no idea why you would think that," Snape returned.

"Have you had any dreams lately, Severus?" Minerva questioned.

Frowning, Snape eyed the witch. "No, fortunately they seemed to have stopped."

"About four days ago, I would venture to guess," the Transfiguration professor leveled a look at the young wizard.

"How. . ." Snape began and then quickly pulled himself together giving a shrug. "I wasn't aware of the exact date, just thankful that they are not plaguing me anymore."

Minerva laughed and shook her head. "Oh, Severus, stop it. We all know when the dreams stopped and why. You have been even more remote than usual and it is not only you. Harry has behaved differently as well. He is either more withdrawn or very distracted in class."

"Have you spoken to the boy, Severus?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No, why should I?" Snape scoffed. "I fulfilled my part in this. The link is established."

The two older people exchanged a look before Dumbledore spoke again. "And that is it as far as you are concerned? You have the link and there is nothing more? No concern at all? No wish to strengthen the bond instead of allowing it to lie dormant?"

"I never asked for the bond or wanted the bloody thing in the first place!" Snape erupted. "Why should I try to make it stronger??"

"I'll tell you why, Severus Snape," Minerva shot back and was pleased to note the younger man shift back in his chair ever so slightly at the sharp, stern tone. "Because you NEED this bond. It is about more than just you and you sheer stubbornness. It is about more than just what you see as an annoying child. It is about developing something that will be beneficial to both you and Harry. Something that might help with the destiny that has been forced upon the both of you. And you would do well to stop sulking and having temper tantrums and speak to Harry about it. Merlin knows if you are upset and confused, HE certainly is!"

Pausing in her rant to observe the way Snape had set his jaw, McGonagall knew that she was getting through to the Potions Master whether he wanted to admit it or not. "Halloween night, you had the last word with Mr. Potter, did you not?" At the nod, the witch continued, "And that was the night the connection was made wasn't it? Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you felt nothing at all that night? At any point?"

"I felt plenty," Snape snapped. "I was angry and annoyed and frustrated. Potter is a willful, meddlesome brat that needs a firm hand."

A half smile played on Dumbledore's lips. "Very like another young man," he commented quietly, only to be rewarded by a dark glare from the Potions Master.

"I am nothing like that brat," Severus attested. "Born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Catered to for eleven years." He snorted. "Think again, Albus."

"I believe it is you who needs to think again, Severus," Minerva put in. "And you still haven't done as I advised you. You haven't looked at Harry. Not really."

Oh but he had, Snape thought, though he would never admit that to these two. He had spent the last few days watching Potter even more closely than before. And at times he would swear that the boy wasn't as arrogant as Snape liked to claim he was.

At the lack of an immediate snarky answer, Professor McGonagall set aside her tea and looked closer at her colleague and former student. Perhaps she was the one who wasn't seeing the whole picture. In a quieter voice she commented, "Or maybe you have."

Snape looked over at the woman and then away. "I don't wish to be rude, but I did have some papers that I need to grade for tomorrow," he stated in an effort to rid himself of the duo and the uncomfortable feelings their words were bringing to him.

"Of course, my boy. We will allow you to get back to work," Dumbledore rose from his seat. Smiling at Snape, he rested a hand gently on the younger wizard's shoulder. "My door is always open, child. You know that." With a glance at McGonagall, the Headmaster took his leave, knowing the witch would follow shortly.

Severus looked at Minerva as she stood up. "Surely you have work to do as well?"

"Always," she chuckled, but did not move toward the door.

Crossing his arms, Snape gave the older professor a look that clearly stated, 'then be on your way'.

"Severus. . ."Minerva very nearly laid a hand on the black robed arm, but restrained herself. "Caring is not a bad thing, Severus. It is not the curse you think it to be." Then following Dumbledore, the witch made her way out of Snape's rooms, closing the door behind her.

It was not until the door was securely shut that Snape released a long sigh and dropped into his chair once more, arms uncrossing now. Gazing at the fire, he thought about McGonagall's last words and whispered, "It is for me, Minerva. It is for me."

Harry sat staring at the food on his plate. Somehow he had managed half a slice of toast and he thought he was doing good with that. No way was he up to bacon and eggs this morning. Not with the first Quidditch match of the year. . .and Harry's first EVER. . .loaming in a mere few hours.

"You'll be brilliant," Ron tried to reassure him. "Fred and George said you're more than ready."

"And you can't fly on an empty stomach," Hermione added. "You need to have a little more, Harry."

"Hermione, if I have a little more, I will empty my stomach," Harry stated as he pushed the plate away. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the thought, but fortunately didn't press him further.

"What if I don't catch the snitch?" Harry fretted. "What if I don't even SEE it? What if I fall off my broom?"

Ron snorted at the ideas. "What if we beat the crap out of Slytherin because of you?" he countered.

Harry swallowed. Yeah there was that too, he thought to himself. If they beat Slytherin would Snape become even more hateful toward him? His eyes unconsciously went to the head table, but the Potions Master was not in his usual seat.

"Good luck today, Potter. You will need it," a silky voice spoke from behind the trio, causing Ron to jump and spill his pumpkin juice everywhere. As he and Hermione set about wiping it up, Snape smirked down at them.

Frowning, Harry looked up and answered with much more bravery and conviction than he felt. "Why should I need luck? I have skill."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "We shall see." With that, he stalked away, robes billowing behind him.

"Bloody hell," Ron spoke up as soon as the Potions Master was out of earshot. "That greasy git shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

"He shouldn't do a lot of things he does," Harry responded as he stood up. "I'd best get going. Wood wants us all there early. See you guys later."

Taking his leave was easy. Turning his thoughts away from Snape proved to be harder. Harry's statement to Ron was more cryptic than the others knew. True it had been over a week since the troll incident, but it had been a confusing week to the boy. While he could somewhat accept his punishment at the hands of Snape, even though he still didn't think it was totally fair, Harry was mystified by the dreams. Or rather lack of them now. He had slept better the last few days than he had in weeks. But what had it all meant? Why had Snape of all people been in his dreams? Why was HE Harry's protector? It made no sense to the boy. Snape hated him. Didn't he? And Harry returned the feeling. Didn't he? The Potions Master was a snide as ever with him. Nothing had really changed. Or had it?

Harry shook his head to try to clear it. Here he was headed to his first Quidditch match. He needed to concentrate on that and only that. There was no room for thoughts of Snape and how confused he had felt since Halloween night.

Entering the Gryffindor dressing area, Harry found Wood and the twins already there and as the other team members arrived and talk of the upcoming game was the center of things, all other thoughts slowly receded and Harry was back to feeling decidedly nervous. As the stands filled with noisy students and the excitement level rose, Fred and George tried to joke Harry out of his nervousness, but it really didn't help much. Then Wood's comment that he had been equally as nervous before his first match and later woke in the hospital wing did nothing to reassure Harry as he exited with his teammates and took to the air.

s s s s s s s s s s

In the teacher's box, Snape sat unmoving, seemingly unaffected by the game at all other than a slight smile when his snakes scored. But the moment Potter's broom begin to pitch every nerve in the man's body reacted. He straightened almost imperceptibly but his eyes focused on the boy as he began muttering a counter curse. There was some strong magic involved in the curse, and Snape growled inwardly. He would deal with the curse maker later. For now the important thing was keeping the brat safe. And unknown to his colleague, Severus Snape would NOT allow harm to come to Harry Potter, regardless.

"Fire!" the shout was barely registered by the Potions Master until his arm was shaken and his attention broken. Looking down at the fire licking the hem of his robes, he quickly extinguished it. But his scowl deepened. His concentration had been broken. Quickly, but in a way that would not bring notice to himself, his eyes sought Potter and it was with a feeling of relief he found the brat was now on his broom once more and appearing unharmed and carefree once again. Little idiot, Snape thought. Of course he didn't realize how close he had come to being seriously hurt. Likely he thought someone would save him since he was the blasted brat-who-lived. And now, judging by the grin on the young face, Potter undoubtedly felt that HE had managed to regain control of the broom on his own and thus would be more arrogant than even. The Potions Master snorted. Just what he needed!

s s s s s s s s s s

He couldn't believe it! He had done it! He'd caught the snitch and won the game! Well okay, so he hadn't caught it in the more traditional way, Harry grinned to himself, but still, it counted. And now he was being treated to a celebratory party in the Gryffindor common room. Things were great!

"I can't believe that Snape would hex your broom."

Harry paused with a custard tart halfway to his mouth. Scratch that. Things HAD been great. Leave it to Hermione to remind him of something other than the glorious feeling of catching the snitch.

"Well, I can believe it!" Ron declared as he crammed more chocolate in his mouth. "That slimy creep would do anything. He was just cheating so his team would win. He doesn't care if Harry gets hurt."

"Yes he does," Harry said without thinking and then shrugged as his two friends looked at him in utter shock.

"Have you drunk some of the stuff the twins were handing out?" Ron inquired, looking at Harry as though he'd suddenly grown two heads. "This is SNAPE we're talking about! Why would he care? And why would YOU think he would??"

Harry was at a loss for a second as Hermione looked at him in puzzlement as well. "I just meant, well he's a teacher, right? None of the teachers want us hurt," he offered.

Ron scoffed, "I don't think Snape counts as a normal teacher. And especially where you're concerned."

"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione put in and it was Harry's turn to look in wonder at his friend who was now talking against a teacher. "And don't look at me like that," she stated, noting the look. "It's true. Anyone can see that Professor Snape doesn't like you. And I know a hex when I see one. He was staring right at you and muttering. You would have fallen if I hadn't used the fire spell."

"Yeah, I know. I can't thank you enough, 'Mione," Harry smiled at the girl. "It was pretty scary there for a few minutes."

Hermione flushed a bit and nodded. "You're welcome. It was a simple thing really. But from now on, I think we'd best keep a closer eye on Professor Snape." The two boys nodded in agreement.

s s s s s s s s s s

"He could have fallen!"

Dumbledore and McGonagall shared a smile as they watched Severus Snape pace the floor in the Headmaster's private chambers.

"And you think that would have been bad?" Dumbledore questioned, his eyes twinkling madly. "I had no idea you would be so worried about a student, particularly that student, Severus."

The Potions Master whirled and glared at the older wizard. "You know damn well I don't want to see any of the brats truly hurt, Albus!" he ranted.

With a slight smile, Dumbledore nodded. "I know, my boy. Calm down."

"I'll calm down when you stop deliberately winding me up," Severus muttered, but he did at least stalk back over to the chair he had vacated earlier, though he still did not resume his seat.

"You are sure that it was Quirrel?" McGonagall spoke up.

Snape nodded. "Yes. I warned you both that there was something odd about him this year."

"He has no reason to harm the boy," the Headmaster commented.

"But he tried!" Snape pointed out. "And you sat there and did nothing, Albus! Where you planning to just watch him fall?"

"Severus," Minerva admonished sternly at the accusatory tone in the younger man's voice.

"And you!" the dark haired wizard turned on the witch. "You allowed him to play! I told you that he was too young! But no, all you thought about was winning. Now the brat very nearly was hurt because of your greed!"

"Severus Tobias Snape, that is enough!" Minerva rose and glared at the Potions Master. "I will not be spoken to in such a way."

"Truth hurt, Minerva?" Snape sneered.

Minerva moved closer, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"Enough! Both of you!" Dumbledore roared. "Sit down." The stern command had the duo complying though the glares were still firmly in place.

"Now then," Dumbledore began, "Minerva is a good judge of things, Severus, and if she believes that Harry is capable of playing, then I trust her." Ignoring the snort from the younger wizard, the Headmaster continued. "As for doing it because it gave her house a chance to win, well one could very well argue that you want the boy off the team so as to benefit your own house. Without the threat, Slytherin could easily win again."

"That's not true," Snape declared angrily. "This is not about winning the Quidditch cup."

"I agree," McGonagall remarked. "I think that Harry is a natural and I will not deny that I would love to take the cup away from you. But to do so at the peril of a student. . ." she fixed a stern gaze on Snape. "The very idea of accusing me of such a thing, Severus."

Snape sighed and lowered his eyes. "You're right, Minerva. You wouldn't risk one of your precious gryffins, especially not that one."

McGonagall shook her head at the comment, but she knew that it was as close to an apology as she was likely to get from Severus Snape. "I share your concern over this incident, Severus. And I would not have allowed Harry to come to harm. Had he slipped off the broom, he would have been caught by a floating charm and lowered down gently."

Nodding, Snape looked up again. "But the fact that it happened means we will have to keep a closer eye on him. And on Quirrel." His two colleagues nodded.

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry lay in bed staring up at the darkness. It was late and his body was tired, yet his mind wasn't giving him a chance to rest. After the party finally wound down a bit and he had retired to the dorm, Harry had thought over all the events of the day.

Both Ron and Hermione were still certain that Snape was the one responsible for the broom going out of control. And Harry had to admit it made sense. Snape hated him and had shown it plenty of times in the short weeks that Harry had been at Hogwarts. And what was that Snape had said that very morning? That Harry would need luck. Of course nearly everything the Potions Master said could be construed as sinister, but the boy had to wonder at the meaning of the words. Had Snape just been wishing him well with his usual snideness? Or was it more? Had he really planned to try to win the match by hurting Harry?

But despite the fact that it seemed Snape had been the cause of things, Harry couldn't shake the inner feeling that the man would never truly harm him. He knew that his friends would think him absolute nutters. Heck, he wondered about it himself! There was no way to explain it other than just a feeling. And. . .the memory of Halloween night.

There was the memory of being over Snape's lap and being punished for putting himself in danger. Harry swallowed hard. He hadn't told anyone else about that of course, but deep down the boy had pondered the feeling it caused. Not the initial pain to his bottom, but the deeper feeling. The feeling that for the first time in his young life someone cared at least in part about what happened to him.

Curling up on his side and wrapping his arms around his pillow, Harry let himself remember the rest of that night. The dream. And the feelings he had had when Snape reached out and took his hand. It had been a feeling that was unexplainable, at least by Harry. But he had known instinctively that he was safe. That he had someone with him. Someone to care.

With a deep sigh, Harry closed his eyes. He couldn't help it. The day had been long and stressful and regardless of unsolved mysteries, he was falling asleep. He would look for answers tomorrow.

s s s s s s s s s s

Snape thought about the events of the day, the talk with the Headmaster and McGonagall, the fact that the Potter brat had nearly been harmed. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He needed to rest, not try to analyze things. Yet when he tried to relax, Snape couldn't help but see again the small figure hanging precariously to the boom handle, dangling and ready to fall any second.

s s s s s s s s s

The dream was different. For one thing it started out wonderful. Harry was always happy when he was flying and he found that the thrill and excitement he felt in reality were just as sharp in his dream. It was exhilarating to soar through the air without a care in the world.

Something whizzed past Harry's ear. Oops! Scratch that! Apparently he did have a care. The glint of gold recalled what he was supposed to be doing and Harry took off in pursuit of the snitch.

He was closing in on it. He was within feet. He was. . suddenly thrown from his violently bucking broom. No! Not again! The boy thought to himself. Clinging with one hand to the slim wooden handle, Harry felt the sudden fear grip him again just as it had earlier during the game. Help! He called out silently. Help me! Please! The broom continued to twitch. He was going to fall!!

He had always been terrified of falling. Ever since. . .

The background of sky and clouds disappeared. Instead Harry found himself in an all too familiar house with an all too familiar person. A person who loathed him.

Uncle Vernon was furious. Harry hadn't meant to trip over the cord. It had just happened because his feet were too small for Dudley's oversized shoes. Now his uncle was raging at him for inadvertently unplugging the alarm clock in Dudley's room while he was vacuuming the day before. It had caused Dudley to oversleep and miss his favorite program on the telly.

The hulking man dragged the small seven year old Harry to the stairs and started towing him along down them to the cupboard. Harry protested that it had been an accident. It was the wrong thing to do as Vernon jerked the boy forward and gave him a rough shove.

Harry was falling. Falling headlong down the stairs. No, not the stairs this time, he realized as Number 4 Privet Drive seemed to fade into nothingness, leaving instead open sky above him and the ground far beneath once more.

He was even further up than a mere few steps now, high above the Quidditch stadium. And he had lost his grip on the broom. With a wild, but silent yell, Harry felt himself tumbling downward.

Only he never hit. Suddenly it was if he were floating. The boy was amazed when he landed lightly on his feet on the ground. He looked around in confusion. Then for the first time Harry spotted another person in his dream. Snape. The Potions Master stood to the side, arms crossed, wand held between two slim fingers, and glaring at the boy. With a final scowl, Snape whirled and walked away, disappearing in a swirl of robes behind the Quidditch stands.

Harry was thankful that today was Sunday as he made his way through the halls of Hogwarts. It meant that most of the students would be either in the library or the common room getting ready for the next day's lessons. The young Gryffindor was not feeling up to answering questions, but neither was he willing to wait any longer. Harry Potter's mind was made up.

After the dream of the night before, Harry had decided to summon every ounce of the legendary Gryffindor bravery. . .and to the young boy this was certainly reason to use it all. . .and go and talk to Snape. If the Potions Master wouldn't talk to him then Harry planned to go straight to the Headmaster. Although, he might let his friends in on that one and accept some company.

Descending the last flight of steps and proceeding down the corridor to Snape's office, Harry found his resolve of earlier weakening slightly. It was well and good to make up his mind about this in the safety of his dorm room, but now that he was standing in front of the door that led to the Potions Master the boy began to get nervous. What would he say? He couldn't just burst in and demand explanations from the professor, could he?' Hi, Snape. Did you try to kill me yesterday? And while we're at it, why the bloody hell are you in my dreams?' Oh yeah that would go over well, Harry thought to himself.

And what if Snape HAD been trying to hurt him for some reason? Here he was, alone, no one knowing where he was, practically handing himself to the man.

Harry stared at the door for a long moment. He could leave. No one would ever know. But then HE would never know the answers to all his questions. And Harry wanted answers. Setting his jaw, the boy raised his hand and knocked.

Snape heard the knock and looked up from his perusal of the fourth years' essays. "Enter," he called out. Of all the people to visit his office, the professor was not expecting the dark head that cautiously poked in.

Quirking an eyebrow, Snape laid aside the parchment in his hands. "Come all the way in, Potter. It's rude to lurk in doorways."

The young boy stepped into the room and closed the door. Going closer to the desk, he stated, "I need to talk to you, sir."

"If this is about an extension on the essay for tomorrow the answer is no," Snape responded.

"It's not," Harry answered. "I want to know what has been happening. I want some answers." There, he had said it.

Damn the brat. It was the very conversation Snape had been trying to put off. Deciding to stall, he sneered at Harry. "Quite a lot has happened to a great many people, Potter. Shall we do this alphabetically or do you have specifics in mind?"

Harry scowled at the typical snarky answer but he wasn't going to back down. "If you want to do it alphabetically, fine since there's only me and you involved," he announced, looking directly at the Potions Master. "And yes, I have specifics in mind. Like what happened yesterday at the Quidditch match? And before that, what happened Halloween night? Why are you in my dreams? Why did you. . .why did you do whatever you did?"

A question he had asked himself repeatedly, Snape thought. Giving a resigned sigh, he motioned toward a chair in front of his desk. "You might as well make yourself comfortable. This could take a while."

Once Harry was seated and staring expectantly at him, Snape laced his fingers together on the desk top and began to speak. "Yesterday someone hexed your broom. Who it was is of no concern. They have been dealt with. And it will not happen again. As for what occurred on Halloween night. . ." Snape paused.

Harry seized the opportunity at the pause to interject. "What do you mean it's not of any concern?! It was concerning to me! I nearly fell!" The boy swallowed hard at the thought, but he kept his eyes fixed on the man across the desk from him.

"You would not have fallen, Mr. Potter. Of that I assure you. And need I remind you to watch your tone and do not yell at me?"

"No, sir," Harry answered a bit quieter.

With a nod that his point had been made, Snape continued. "As I was saying, Halloween night was a most confusing time. You were full of emotions and your dreams were consequently more powerful."

"But why were you there? How did you get in my dreams? And it wasn't the first time was it? Have you always been there? Have I just never noticed it before when I had the dreams about. . .about that night?" Harry blurted out.

Snape sighed. "Potter, if you will stop interrupting, I will attempt to explain things. Now would you like me to go on?" At the affirmative nod, Snape watched the boy settle back in the chair a bit and try to contain himself to listen.

"Dreams are a way of releasing our subconscious," Snape began. "In dreams we can relive things and at times alter them as we please. A dream can be based on a memory, such as yours. Or it can be a collection of pictures that might make no logical sense at all but simply are ideas, words, or feelings that we have encountered at some point during the day and which come out in a garbled way as our brain strings it all together while we are asleep. There are dreams in which you are merely an observer, unable to do anything to alter the events no matter how much you want to. And there are dreams that can be shared."

"Like mine. But how. . ." Harry stopped at the glare he was receiving.

"I believe I said that I would explain, but if you can not be silent perhaps you would do better going to find your answers elsewhere. Might I suggest the library? Though Madame Pinch would not permit talking back to the books either," the Potions Master commented.

Harry felt his temper rise but he didn't want to go to the library. He wanted this man to tell him what was going on. "Sorry, I'll be quiet now."

"That was your last warning, Potter," Snape stated as he returned to the topic. "As I was saying some dreams can be shared. It is by no means a common occurrence. Usually the dreams are the result of either having shared the same experience originally or there is a bond between the persons involved."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask more about the bond as the professor paused and looked over at him, but Harry managed to stay quiet. He knew that the next bit of information would be important and no way was he losing the chance to find out more.

Snape studied the boy. How was he going to describe this strange occurrence to Potter when he was still mystified at the choice himself? "Most bonds of the sort needed to share dreams exist between a parent and child, or at the very least two people who are close. However, in VERY rare cases, there is a link with people who might somehow share a similar fate."

The look of disbelief and confusion was clear on Harry's face as he stared at his professor. Just what was the man saying? That Harry and Snape were. . .close?? Or that they could be?? The thought was impossible! And what was this similar fate thing? He opened his mouth and then closed it again. The boy had no idea where to actually start with all the questions and comments that flooded his mind.

"Speechless, Potter? That might be a rare, but good thing," Snape remarked.

"Why me?" Harry finally got out. "And why YOU?"

"Believe me, I am as thrilled about this as you are. And if I knew the answer of why this has happened, I would gladly share it with you. But I do not," Snape admitted.

Harry frowned. "So you don't know what is going on any more than me? But. . .well, you're older and you've always been a wizard and well. . .you ought to know," the boy declared.

The Potions Master snorted. "So because I am an older wizard than you, I am automatically to understand ever minute detail of the universe? I think not, Potter. It doesn't work that way."

"Isn't there anyone that can tell us why this is happening?" Harry was becoming nervous. "The Headmaster?"

As if that old coot would actually explain anything, Snape thought to himself. No, they would only get more riddles and tea and candy if they went to Dumbledore. "I doubt it," he answered. "Mental bonds and things to do with the mind are one of the more complex and difficult to explain things. They seem at times to follow no logical pattern." Like now, the Potions Master added silently.

"But I want to know. I need to know!" Harry protested.

"Potter, the only explanation I can give you for this occurrence is that somehow, for some unknown reason, a bond has been lying dormant in the both of us without our being aware of it. It only materialized when we at last met each other. The pathway has always been there but it took a face to face meeting before it opened more, allowing me access to your dreams."

"Why did you wait so long?" Harry blurted out.

Snape looked at him. "I just told you I had no idea about the connection. What did you expect me to do before now?"

"No, not that," Harry clarified. "If you have been able to see my dreams since I got here, why did you wait for weeks and weeks before. . .before you did whatever you did on Halloween?"

"You mean why didn't I immediately jump at the chance to be forever linked with the insufferable Brat-Who-Lived?" Snape sneered. "Because I happen to like my privacy, Potter, that is why. Because I have no desire to become your keeper. Because I do not wish to be reminded over and over through your dreams what the Dark Lord was capable of."

Hot fury rose in Harry at the words and it was the last ones that pushed the boy over the edge. "And you think I DO??!! That I ENJOY watching my mother die??!! And I sure as hell don't want a bloody git like you having anything to do with me! Forget the bond!! You won't have to be bothered with it anymore!!" Whirling, Harry bolted from the room, slamming the door as hard as he could before fleeing down the corridor, half blinded by tears that he would never, ever allow Snape to see.

Snape was on his feet as the boy ran out. "Potter!!" he roared. "Get back here!" But the words were not heeded and as he opened the door and saw the last glimpse of the brat disappear around a corner, Snape sighed and let him go. Turning back to his office, the Potions Master sank into his chair. If only they could forget the bond, he thought. But Snape well knew that there was no turning back now. Despite what he or Harry wanted, they were connected.

s s s s s s s s s

Harry had at first thought of retreating to his dorm, but there would be too many people there and he was in no mood to see anyone at all. He had to get away and just be alone at the moment. Rushing out of the castle, Harry's steps took him to the lake and he flung himself down on the ground under a tree. Drawing his knees up, the boy wrapped his arms around them, buried his head on the same arms, and sobbed.

Why had he ever let the slightest bit of hope creep in? Why? Stupid, stupid, stupid, he mentally berated himself. They were right. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were right. No one could ever care about him. Why had he been dumb enough to think that Snape cared? Just because he seemed to help Harry? They were dreams. Nothing more, the boy told himself. They didn't mean anything. Hermione was probably right. Snape HAD tried to hurt him. The dreams were just a cover up. Snape had made his real thoughts about Harry abundantly clear time and time again. But even in his upset state of the moment, Harry didn't believe that in his heart. Why? Why was something in him still defending that git? After all that he had said! The child struggled to find answers to things that made no sense to him.

Hot tears soaked into his robes, even as a chill began to permeate him. It was, after all November now and the weather was getting cooler and Harry hadn't bothered with a cloak before rushing outside. It took a while to process that the shivering he was doing was as much from being cold as it was from crying hard. But despite that realization, Harry remained where he was. He pulled his hands and arms inside the sleeves of his robe to keep warm, the same way he had done all his life with Dudley's outgrown and oversized clothes. Huddled in a small, miserable heap, Harry stayed by the lake throughout lunch and into the afternoon.

His solitude went undisturbed until mid afternoon.

s s s s s s s s s s

Snape had drummed his fingers on the desk for some time after Harry left the dungeons, thinking through things. What did the brat expect from him? He was not a caring person. No matter which way one looked at it, Severus Snape was not cut out for this.

He had tried to explain things rationally. Had thought he was doing pretty well. Then the boy had turned those eyes to him. Those half haunted, questioning, green eyes.

"Why did you wait so long?"

Even if Potter hadn't meant it as any more than a question, the accusation was still there to Snape. And he could see the glimpse of hurt still in the boy's eyes.

And so what had he done? Sympathized with the brat? Eased his fears? No. He'd reacted the same way he always did when faced with too many emotions. He had shut them off and retreated inside himself, snapping at the one who had caused the turmoil.

Potter had run out angry. Leaving Snape alone to deal with the emotions that he had forced aside. The Potions Master allowed the feelings out carefully, one by one, critically attempting to examine them. But that was the thing about emotions; the bloody things seemed to always defy logic!

So it was that Severus Snape found himself scanning the Great Hall at lunch for a sign of the frustrating brat and finding none, he had, for some totally irrational reason and because of his damnable feelings of concern, gone looking for Harry. Empty classrooms had been searched as well as the library. Even though the Potions Master had spotted the bushy haired Miss Granger in the library, there was no sign of Harry.

Turning his search to the grounds, Snape headed first for the Quidditch pitch and then strolled by Hagrid's house, stopping to inquire if the huge man had seen Harry. Frowning even more when the answer was negative, Snape was about ready to give up and just let the brat stay hidden and sulking somewhere, when he spotted something near the lake.

Upon closer investigation, Snape found that the dark shape was the child he had been seeking. He studied Harry quietly for a moment before moving closer and speaking. "Tantrum over, Potter?"

Harry kept his face averted. He was well aware of who the voice belonged to and felt no need to look around at Snape. "What do you want?" he asked.

What did he want, Snape pondered another simple question from this boy. What had led him to track down Harry? The Potions Master knew deep down what had driven him, but he refused to voice it and most especially not to the pest who had asked the question and made it necessary to come find him in the first place.

"I was out for a walk," he replied. The snort let him know what Harry thought of that comment. "I believe I asked you a question first and you have yet to answer me."

This time Harry turned toward the professor. "I wasn't having a tantrum."

Now it was Snape's turn to be disbelieving and he arched an eyebrow. However, the sharp eyes took in the tear streaked young face and the shivering body. "No, yelling, slamming doors, and sitting out here for hours with no cloak trying to make yourself sick in no way constitutes a tantrum. Get up, Potter, and come with me."

Harry hesitated for a moment but at last got to his feet. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the castle," Snape stated as he turned and started in that direction. "We need to finish our talk."

"I don't think we have anything left to say," Harry commented, stopping after going only a few feet.

Snape turned. "Once again let me remind you that you do not know everything, Potter. Now come along."

Scowling, but willing to at least go back inside where it was warmer, Harry followed. He could always just take off and leave Snape again once inside.

Not a word was said as they made their way back, but as they entered the main doors, it was as if Snape had read Harry's mind. A hand fell on the slim shoulder and Snape steered the boy toward the dungeons once more. So much for any hope of escape, Harry thought.

s s s s s s s s s s

Snape stopped in front of the door to his quarters and opened it. Ushering Harry through first, he had to give the boy another nudge. "Move, Potter. I plan to enter my quarters as well."

If Harry had been confused before, it had just grown. He had expected to be taken back to Snape's office and though he knew the door was not the office door, he had never anticipated this.

The room was spacious and cozy at the same time. There was a dark green rug on the floor and two comfortable armchairs and a couch surrounded a flickering fireplace. A couple of end tables were conveniently placed, one having a small stack of books on it. Through an archway to an adjoining room, Harry caught a glimpse of what must be a dining room with a wood table that gleamed in the light from the candles. It was nice. And, well, homey. And totally un-Snapelike!

"Have a seat, Potter," Snape directed and then promptly disappeared down a small hall to the right.

Still attempting to process everything, Harry did as he was told and settled himself in one of the chairs, his eyes still scanning these new surroundings. He looked over as Snape returned to the room. With a blanket? Harry was further surprised as the professor unfolded it and draped the forest green material over the boy.

"You need to get warm," Snape explained simply at the look and then curtailed any further comment by stating. "It would reflect badly on me if I allowed any student, but particularly Gryffindor's Golden Boy, to become ill from being chilled. Even though the same student was foolish enough to sit outside, with no cloak, for hours, for no reason." The Potions Master gave Harry a stern look as he tucked the blanket around the child.

"I was upset," Harry stated sulkily, while unable to resist snuggling in the warm softness the blanket offered.

"That does not excuse your actions," the Potions Master snapped. "You were rude to me and ran off to have a good sulk, not thinking about your own welfare and leaving without a cloak. That was bad enough, but then you continued to stay outside, even when you clearly were cold. What did you hope to achieve, Potter? Were you hoping to become sick as a way to try to make me feel guilty?"

"You started it!" Harry defended himself. "You said all those things! You were rude first! And I didn't sulk! I just. . .well, I needed to be alone." Harry wasn't about to say that he had needed privacy to cry as well as think, even though the evidence of the tears was clear on the young face. "And I wasn't trying to do anything. I just didn't want to come back. But maybe you SHOULD feel guilty! Though I doubt you ever would since you're nothing but a cold hearted snake!" Even as he said it, Harry was amazed by his own words and the green eyes widened slightly before the boy dropped his head. Snape would kill him now. No question about it.

Snape stood for a moment utterly silent at the boy's outburst. A part of him wanted to yank Harry from the chair and paddle his backside for the blatant disrespect. Yet there was a tiny particle of truth to the words as well. He had reacted as badly as Harry had by saying those things in the first place. Logically, Snape knew it wasn't Harry's fault the bond existed and yet he had all but blamed the child for it happening. And even though he had tried to tell himself otherwise, the Potions Master did indeed feel a twinge of guilt that Harry had run off like he had.

Taking a deep breath, Snape spoke in a quiet and controlled voice. "Indeed. I shall overlook your derogatory remarks to an extent, Potter. We will discuss them more later. But for now I suspect that one reason you are so irritable is because you haven't eaten." Snape raised his voice and called, "Mercer!"

Harry watched in amazement as, with a popping sound, a small creature with large ears and big blue eyes, suddenly appeared in the room, wearing what looked to be part of an old blue and green striped blanket. A hole had been cut for the creature's head to fit through the material and the contraption was belted around its waist with a strip of bright yellow cloth, the ends of which drug the floor and were frayed and dirty.

"Yes, Master Snape, what can Mercer do for you?"

"We need a tray of food, Mercer. For the boy." Snape thought for a moment. "Ham or chicken sandwiches, carrot sticks, and pumpkin juice will do nicely."

"Right away, Master Snape. Mercer will be right back with food for little master." And with another pop the strange creature disappeared.

Snape saw Harry's questioning look and explained. "Mercer is a house elf. One of many who work here at Hogwarts, but one of few that I would allow in my rooms."

Harry nodded, still not fully understanding and ventured. "What exactly IS a house elf?"

"A house elf is a devoted servant and helper and most wizarding families have their own to help out with cleaning, doing laundry, caring for the gardens, basically whatever they are told to do. Very useful little creatures. The ones here at Hogwarts also do the cooking," Snape informed Harry.

At that moment Mercer reappeared with a laden tray. "Does Master Snape wish to be eating here or in the dining room?" he asked.

"Here is fine, Mercer. Just leave the tray on the end table there," Snape nodded.

"Yes, Master Snape." The little house elf made his way to the table near where Harry was sitting and placed the tray down. "Mercer hopes you enjoy the food, little master."

"Um, thanks. I'm sure I will," Harry responded.

With a nod Mercer addressed the Potions Master once more. "Will Master Snape be needing anything else?"

"No, that will be all, Mercer," Snape dismissed the house elf, who once again disappeared with a popping noise.

Now with only the two of them in the room, Snape looked over at Harry. "Eat something, Potter, and then we will talk more."

Harry's stomach had growled at the mere mention of food and now that it sat within reach, the boy's hunger was even more acute. Gratefully helping himself to a sandwich, Harry took a bite.

Snape leaned back in his chair observing the thin child and thinking privately that he could do with a few supplemental potions. No doubt the brat had lived off sweets and never been made to eat vegetables if he didn't want them. "Eat the carrot sticks as well, Mr. Potter. They are good for you."

Giving Snape a look, Harry took a couple of the vegetable in question. Once done with the sandwich and the carrots, he drained the mug of pumpkin juice and sat back, the blanket still draped over one shoulder. "That was good. Thank you, sir."

"See to it that you do not skip any more meals," the Potions Master responded. "Are you warm enough now?" At Harry's nod, Snape remarked, "Very well. I believe we have some unfinished business since you ran out earlier."

Despite the food and blanket, Harry felt himself bristle at the words. "I had reason to. You were being a git. And there's nothing more to talk about."

"Mr. Potter, I have been patient with your little slurs and disrespectful name calling until now. One more, just one, and you will find yourself face down over my knee. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry gulped at the threat and nodded. He certainly didn't want THAT to ever happen again!

"Good. Now as for there being nothing else to discuss, I do not share your opinion," Snape stated.

"I'll bet you don't," Harry muttered.

The Potions Master arched an eyebrow. "Something you would like to say, Potter?"

Quite a lot, actually, Harry thought to himself and then looking at the professor who had caused him to get so upset and angry earlier and then come looking for him only to bring him back here and tuck him under a blanket and then make sure he was fed, the boy found the confusion and conflicting emotions prompting him to answer. "Yes, sir, there is. I want to know why you are acting like you are. I. . ." Harry took a deep breath. Should he even voice the idea? Was he only opening himself up to more hurt? But he wanted to know. He HAD to know! Looking directly at Snape, Harry asked what was the hardest question imaginable to the child. "I want to know if you care about me or not."

Snape had prepared himself for some smart mouthed answer or even a quiet no, but nothing had prepared him for the words that the brat spoke. Of all the things the blasted boy could have chosen to talk about! Did he care about him? How was he supposed to answer that one??

Harry watched the Potions Master closely and saw the unreadable expression on the man's face. Swallowing, the boy stood up. "Nevermind. I shouldn't have thought that, let alone asked. I'll go now. Thanks again for the sandwiches and stuff."

"Sit down, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice was quieter. "You are not running away this time."

"I wasn't," Harry protested, "I just thought. . ."

"I would assume with a question like that you wanted an answer of some kind."

"No. Yes. I don't know," Harry stammered.

"That pretty much covers all options," Snape commented dryly.

"I don't want an answer," Harry responded. "I changed my mind. Besides I already know what the answer would be."

Snape leveled a look at the boy. "Do you?"

Harry nodded. "You've made it clear. Well, that is you did at first. But then. Lately you. . ." The confused child sank into the chair again, voice a scant whisper. "I just thought. . ."

"You thought what, Harry?"

The dark head shot up, not at the softer voice but at the fact that Snape had said his name. "You. . .you called me Harry."

Snape nodded. "I did."

"You never call me anything but Potter," Harry pointed out.

"Consider it a lapse for one evening if you want," Snape commented. "Now finish you statement. You thought what?"

Harry studied the Potions Master for a long moment and quietly voiced his thoughts. "You could have left me alone after what happened with the troll. Professor McGonagall had already scolded me and Ron. But you didn't. And then that night in the dream. . .you reached out to me and. . ." Harry paused. He wasn't quite ready to delve too deep into those feelings just yet. "And you helped me. And then the dreams stopped until last night. But you helped me again in that one. I was so afraid of falling. But," the green eyes locked on Snape, "you didn't let me. So I. . .I thought maybe you cared. But then today you said all those things and I knew I was wrong. At least, I thought I knew. Until you came and found me and brought me back here. Now. . .I just don't know."

That makes two of us, Snape thought as he sat and listened to Harry. Contemplating what to say, the Potions Master sat silently for a moment. "As I told you earlier, a link such as the one we have is usually forged by a close relationship. And one that would naturally have a deal of caring from both parties to the other involved." Snape paused, trying to decide how best to phrase the next part. "In that respect, then yes, I do have concern for your well being."

Green eyes regarded the professor steadily as Harry took it all in. "So you do care," he said quietly.

"If I did not I would never have reached out. But then the link would have never been completed and the dreams would have continued haunting both of us," Snape replied. "It was a way to end that."

Harry nodded, but the look he had seen ever so briefly in Snape's dark eyes led the boy to believe there was more to his level of caring than the Potions Master was admitting. But for the moment it was enough to feel that he wasn't alone anymore. Not that Harry would have voluntarily picked Snape of all people, but now that they were connected with neither of them being able to do anything about it, it was almost reassuring to the boy.

Uncomfortable with the topic of emotions and caring, Snape abruptly changed the subject. "Have you completed your homework?"

Harry blinked at the sudden shift. "Um, well not quite," he admitted.

"Then I suggest you go and rectify that," the Potions Master directed. "And I will expect to see you at the Gryffindor table at dinner. Do not miss another meal."

"Yes, sir." Harry took the words for a dismissal and stood up again. "Thank you, Professor." Though Harry wasn't entirely certain what he was thanking Snape for, perhaps everything in general, he felt it was the right thing to say. He had taken a few steps toward the door when Snape's voice stopped him.

"And you may add two hundred lines of 'I will show my professors proper respect' to your homework," the silky tone stated. Snape glanced over and smirked at the shocked look on the young face. "I did not forget your outburst, Mr. Potter. And if you recall I said I would discuss it later. Consider it addressed and you a fortunate brat to be leaving here with nothing more painful than lines." He gave Harry a pointed look.

Biting back the groan that had wanted to come out at the thought of lines, Harry caught the underlying meaning in Snape's last comment and quickly nodded, indeed grateful to have escaped other consequences. "Yes, sir, thanks again. I'll go get busy on all my work." And before Snape could change his mind about anything, Harry took his leave.

Snape waited until the door was closed and the sound of footsteps in the corridor died out. Then he chuckled slightly as he pictured the look on Potter's face as those last words had registered. Just why he had been so lenient all day with the brat was beyond him. Looking over at the blanket that had been left on the chair, Severus shook his head. What had he gotten himself into this time by even partly admitting he cared for the impossible, infuriating child? Even as he thought it, the Potions Master remembered the longing in the green eyes that had looked at him when Harry confided his thoughts. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he had had no other choice but to care. But that didn't mean he was about to go announcing that fact or revealing it at all if he could help it! Taking a book from the stack on the table beside him, Snape settled back to read.

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry walked quickly down the dungeon corridors, but once back on the main floor of the castle, he slowed somewhat and wandered at a leisurely pace up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. His mind was a mix of all the things that had happened today. He couldn't help but smile as he recalled the fearsome Potions Master tucking the blanket around him. Who knew Snape had a heart? But Harry was truly starting to believe the professor cared about him. Of course he would never be able to convince Ron or even Hermione of that fact, so Harry decided it was best just to keep things to himself. At least for now.

Entering the common room, he was suddenly the victim of questioning as both of his friends came hurrying over to him.

"Where have you been? You weren't at lunch. And you still have Transfiguration homework!"

"We looked for you everywhere, mate. You just disappeared."

"I just went for a walk," Harry replied. "I needed some fresh air, so I went to the lake for a while. Guess I lost track of the time." It wasn't a lie, the boy thought to himself. All of that had indeed happened.

"Oh," Ron commented. "Well tell a person next time how 'bout it?" The red haired boy leaned closer and whispered, "And don't leave me alone with her if we have homework still. She's been a right harpy about it all day."

Hermione pinned the boys with a glare. "You two can just stop whispering about me and get to work. That is IF you want my help on anything after you've wasted most of the day."

Ron gave Harry a look that said, 'see what I mean!' and Harry grinned.

"Alright, alright, let me grab my books," the dark haired boy responded. Darting to his dorm, Harry secured the needed items and returned to the common room, flopping down at the table where Ron and Hermione were and opening his books. As he took out a piece of parchment, Harry chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Harry replied. "Just a strange thought. So. . .where do we start?"

Hermione thankfully launched into discussing the lesson they had had in Transfiguration and the spells that were similar and how they should be able to do the compare and contrast paper easily if they would read certain pages. In all the deciding who would read which part and explain it to the others, Harry was spared having to reveal the thought that had amused him.

He couldn't help but smile slightly again at remembering the question from Snape of whether or not his homework was done. It seemed so. . .fatherly, to the boy. Harry told himself that he was probably reading way too much into it again, but still, it was a nice thought. What would it be like to have someone remind you of things and make sure your homework was done? Then again, the same person had given him two hundred lines! Holding back a groan again at that thought, Harry set to work on his reading about Transfiguration.

Pulling on his robes and for once making sure they were snugly fastened instead of flapping around him half open, Harry thought about the last few weeks. After his talk with Snape, Harry had done a lot of pondering on the things that had been said. Even though no more actual dreams had occurred since the Sunday of their discussion, Harry had mixed feelings about that fact. A part of him almost wanted a dream. At least in his dream, he would know Snape would be there for him. There would be that brief moment of. . .

Of what? Harry thought to himself with a sigh. Concern? Reassurance? Caring? The boy snorted. As if Snape had been showing him any of that while he was awake. Harry had been subjected to a two foot punishment essay, loss of house points, and more lines for various misdemeanors in the time since his heart to heart talk with Snape. Granted not a one of them had been given without cause and some of his classmates had suffered punishments as well. It was just. . .for some reason Harry found himself craving more. Something different. Of course if Snape were to learn of that type thinking he'd probably just inform Harry that he was once again expecting special treatment.

Picking up his books, Harry pushed the thoughts from his mind and hurried to the common room where he found Ron and Hermione already waiting. The trio made their way to breakfast and then out to the greenhouses for Herbology.

s s s s s s s s s s

Students who plan to remain at the school during the Christmas holidays, sign below.

The announcement was on every common room notice board as well as the main one in the entry hall of the castle. Not to mention that it had been announced at the beginning of Transfiguration class by Professor McGonagall. It was only one sentence, seemingly nothing earth shattering, yet Harry Potter hated the words with a vengeance because of what they brought and what they meant to him.

"You know," the sneering voice of Draco Malfoy cut through Harry's thoughts as the young Gryffindor stood near the large notice board on the main floor. "It really says something about a person when not only does their family not want them, their so-called friends don't stay around either."

Harry had paused to check on the possibility of anyone else having added their name to the short list. He balled his hands into fists and tried to stay quiet.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron spoke up as he and Hermione walked up to the little crowd that was gathering in the entrance hall.

"Harry knows that we would stay if we could," Hermione piped up.

Draco snorted. "Sure you would. Admit it, Granger, family comes before friends. Well, for most people."

The blond boy sneered at Harry and went on, "You really don't have to sign every list, Potter. Everyone knows that you aren't wanted at home."

Within a moment Ron had pulled his wand and pointed it at Draco, Hermione was telling them to stop, and Harry. . .Harry was running up the stairs away from them all.

"What is going on here?" a silky voice asked as a hand clamped down on Draco's shoulder.

Draco looked up at Snape and shook his head, "Nothing, Professor."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Then why is it that two students have their wands out and at the ready?"

"Because Malfoy is a. . ." Ron began, but stopped at the look he was receiving from the Potions Master.

"Indeed. Ten points from Gryffindor." At the look of outrage from Ron, Snape added, "And ten points from Slytherin. I do not tolerate the misuse of magic and threatening wand waving by brats who could easily blow themselves and half the castle away because they have no idea what they are doing. Put your wands away, both of you. And get to your common rooms."

Both boys glared at each other once more but stalked off as ordered, muttering under their breaths. Hermione went with Ron, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to trail faithfully after Draco. The rest of the watchers dispersed, all going their separate ways.

Once the students were out of sight, Snape sighed and headed up the stairs. Now to find the brat that he had witnessed fleeing from the scene.

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry stood at the sink, running water over his throbbing hand. Not to mention trying to regain his composure. There was no way he was leaving the bathroom until he was certain it would not be noticed he had been crying. He hated Malfoy. Hated everything about the smug little twit. Hated that he had everything. Hated that he was right.

A slow tear tracked down Harry's cheek, following the trail already made by a host of others. The boy sniffled and wiped at the wetness angrily. Crying wasn't going to help solve anything. He knew better. Had learned that lesson long ago. Of course throwing a tantrum and hitting the wall like he had hadn't done a bloody thing either, except leave him with a sore hand. Harry wiggled his fingers under the cool water and flinched slightly at the pain.

"Dry it off and let me see."

Harry whirled around, startled to hear a voice and then inwardly groaned at just whose voice it was. "Go away. I'm fine."

Snape quirked his eyebrow. "Do as you're told, boy, and come here," he ordered.

"Why?!" Harry retorted, dismayed to find himself on the verge of tears again.

Shaking his head, Snape strolled over and took Harry's chin in his hands, forcing the boy to look up at him. "Other than the fact that you were told to do so?" He gave Harry a stern look and as the boy swallowed hard the Potions Master continued, "Because I surmised by seeing you flinch that you had done something stupid again and somehow injured your hand. Now dry it and let me see." He released the small chin, expecting to be obeyed.

Grateful not to have to look at the man's face, Harry turned his attention back to his hand and slowly did as he was directed, taking care not to show any other signs that it hurt when he dried it. "How. . .how did you know where I was?" He had thought this little used bathroom wouldn't be discovered.

Snape reached for the small hand, his voice quiet, "You aren't the first boy to hide out here," he commented simply and turned his attention to Harry's hand, using it as a convenient way to help push aside memories of another dark haired boy with a tear streaked face seeking out this place as a semblance of a refuge.

"Oh," Harry let it go at that since he was trying not to whimper as Snape manipulated his bruised hand.

Frowning, Snape looked up and commented, "I  assume that you now understand that rock walls are harder and stronger than bone and flesh?"

With a slight flush, Harry gave a curt nod. "Yeah."

"Come with me, Potter." Snape didn't give another option really as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him out into the hall.

"Where are we going?" Harry questioned as he was propelled firmly along.

"To my quarters. I believe we have some things to discuss," Snape answered.

Harry balked. "Malfoy started it!"

Dark eyes gazed down at the boy. "We will talk about it in private. Now move." A slight shove accompanied the words and Harry scowled but obeyed.

s s s s s s s s s s

"Sit down, Potter," Snape directed as they entered the Potions Master's rooms

Grudgingly obeying, Harry took a seat in an armchair and watched as Snape left the room. Maybe he should just get back up and leave, the boy thought. It wasn't as though Snape would really listen to his side of things anything. Not with Malfoy involved, the most precious Slytherian of all. He made to stand up.

Even as the thought entered his mind a voice called, "Stay put."

Darn it! Harry scowled. How did he know?

Snape reappeared and gave Harry a look. Going to the boy's side, he ordered, "Give me your hand."

Harry sighed and lifted the injured hand. "What are you going to do?"

"Attempt to fix what you caused in your childishly stupid temper tantrum," Snape answered as he uncapped a jar and begin to smooth a cream on Harry's hand.

Wincing as the cream was rubbed in, Harry argued, "It wasn't a temper tantrum. I was just upset and THAT was Malfoy's fault. Would you rather I hit HIM?"

Snape glanced up from his ministrations and quirked an eyebrow. "Would you rather have a sore backside that I certainly would not be trying to make feel better?"

Harry gulped and shook his head, but still pouted a little at the threat.

"Then do not contemplate breaking the rules by fighting. And while you are at it, take that tone out of your voice. I will not have any insolence from you, upset or not."

Staring fixedly at the floor now, Harry pouted more and held his tongue to avoid any trouble.

Giving a nod that his message had been received, Snape returned to making sure the cream was well absorbed by the small hand.

"That hurts, you know," Harry commented after a few moments as Snape persistently rubbed his hand.

"Yes, I don't doubt it. You should have thought about the pain before you hit the wall." He gently smoothed a thin coat of medicine over the abused and scraped knuckles. "This will take away the bruising and the pain however, so a few more moments of soreness will be worth it I should think."

Harry gave the Potions Master a slightly puzzled look. Why was Snape helping him? He had come and found him. . .again. And was now healing his hand. The young Gryffindor would have expected the man to have been more concerned with congratulating Malfoy for his latest cruelty rather than helping Harry. Still, they did have their bond. Was that why Snape was doing this? As his hand was released, Harry wiggled the fingers a little and found they were still sore, but not throbbing as they had been. Looking up at Snape, he offered, "Um. . .thanks."

Snape inclined his head and slipped the jar back into his pocket before taking a seat in his own chair. "Now what caused you and Mr. Malfoy to be at each other's throats again?"

"He did." Harry was immediately on the defensive at the mention of the other boy. "He's been bothering me for days about having to stay here for the holidays."

"I see. Well that isn't that big of an issue. Several students will be staying, as always. Not everyone is able to go home if their families are planning other things," Snape remarked causally.

Harry looked at the man and then back at the floor and shrugged. "I guess. It's not that I really want to go home anyway."

"Then why the scene with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Because he's a prat!" Harry snapped. "He was being all smug and saying that I didn't need to sign every list just to make sure everyone knew I was going to be around. And that. . ." Harry stopped. He really didn't want to get into the rest, especially not with Snape.

Snape sighed. "I really detest half finished statements, Potter. Go on. And that what?"

Harry's voice was quiet as he managed to get out the taunting words. "And that I wasn't wanted at home."

Snape's first instincts were to sneer and comment something along the lines of how could anyone not want the wonderful Boy-Who-Lived in their presence. But he halted himself and studied the boy. The brat's head was down and he looked the picture of a dejected child. Could it possibly be. . . ? No, impossible. The boy was just sulking because his relatives happened to not be catering to him this year. But then Potter had said that he didn't really want to go home anyway. Merely a cover up for his little fit, Severus assured himself. Still. . .

"Come here, Potter."

The green eyes looked up questioningly, but Harry left his seat and walked over to stand before his professor. "Yes, sir?"

"What else did Draco say? Surely a tease like that didn't have you bawling in the bathroom. Not when we all know your relatives would have you home to dote on you more if they could."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You don't know anything!!" he yelled. "They DON'T dote on me! They couldn't care less about me!! Malfoy said no one wanted me. Not my friends, not my family, no one! And. . ." the boy choked on a sob and turned his back to Snape, crossing his arms, not wanting the man to see he was crying again. "And he. . .he was right," Harry whispered.

Snape sat in stunned silence for a moment. Surely the boy was making it up. Being overly dramatic and imagining things. Taking Harry's arm, he turned the child to face him once more, at first having to struggle a little to get the stubborn brat to cooperate. Then lifting the boy's chin, the dark eyes gazed into the tearful green ones.

Harry tried to pull away, especially as his face was tilted up toward Snape again. He squirmed and was glad when the Potions Master released him with a frown after staring at him for a moment. The next bit surprised him though. The hand moved from cupping his chin to resting on his shoulder and Harry felt a gentle squeeze. For some reason the little gesture did Harry in. Giving a sob, the boy buried his face in his hands. "I. . .I don't want to be the only one. L-left out again. Alone!"

Sighing deeply, Snape pulled Harry closer and patted his back. "There will be others staying, Potter. Now stop the crying. It is not the end of the world."

"But not my friends," Harry pointed out as he fought for control, feeling like an idiot while at the same time wanting to cry more. "Holidays are for two weeks. I'll be alone."

"You will not be alone," Snape spoke softly and Harry looked up at the hint of a promise in the voice. Their eyes met again and then Snape gave Harry an awkward one armed hug. "Now clean yourself up, Potter, and settle down. Things will work out. The bathroom is the first door on the left. Go wash your face."

Harry regarded his professor through a sheen of tears and then sniffed and nodded, following directions as he went to clean up. What did it mean? Why was Snape being. . .sort of. . .nice? And Harry couldn't help but wonder at the Potions Master's words of not being alone. Had he just imagined the way it sounded like a promise? Maybe he should ask. Once he was done and returned to the main sitting room, Snape was waiting for him and spoke before Harry could say a word.

"I assume that you have things to do now. I know that I certainly do."

"Well, yeah, I guess," Harry replied. So much for asking anything, Harry thought. Same old Snape. Why did he have these ideas that the man cared? Taking the words as a dismissal, Harry headed for the door. "Um, thanks, sir."

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "For what, Potter?"

"For. . ." Hmm, what was he thinking Snape for? "For not yelling at me about Malfoy. For. . .for listening."

The dark head nodded. "You are welcome."

"Bye," Harry commented before leaving, feeling in some way a little better. How or why, he wasn't quite sure.

s s s s s s s s s s

"Not wanted at home?"

"That's what he said. I didn't believe it either. But. . .there was no trace of deception in his eyes. The brat wasn't lying, Minerva."

Minerva McGonagall paced the floor of her office too agitated to even scold about the name used for the child in question. "It makes no sense, Severus. Albus left him there for a reason. Those people are his relatives."

Snape gave a snort. "Blood doesn't equal love, Minerva," he stated bitterly.

The witch turned and regarded the younger man, her voice gentle as she nodded, "I know, Severus."

"The question is, how bad is it and does the Headmaster know?"

"You haven't spoken to him yet?"

The Potions Master shook his head. "No, I wanted to talk to you first. To get your opinion. And to," Snape paused and looked at the witch. "I realize that you are the Head of his house, Minerva, but. . ."

Minerva looked at Snape. "But?" she inquired.

"But under the circumstances. . .that is, considering all that has happened. . ."

It was a hard job to hide her amusement at the younger wizard's faltering. "Spit it out if you have something to say, Severus."

Giving the woman a slight glare, Snape blurted out, "With the presence of the bond between Potter and myself, I had wondered if he should stay with me."

Even though she had somewhat expected a comment regarding the bond, Professor McGonagall found herself not entirely ready for Snape's statement. "Stay with you?" she asked, to be certain she had heard correctly.

"Yes. No. Oh bloody hell, I don't know, Minerva!!" Severus threw up his hands. "When Potter was bawling it seemed like a good idea. At least it calmed him down. But now. . .nevermind. He needs to just stay where he is. And I need to go speak to the Headmaster." He turned for the door.

"What you need to do is sit down," Minerva stated firmly. "Not to mention watch your language in my presence, Severus Snape."

The shoulders slumped slightly under the black robes and Snape looked back over his shoulder to see the older witch pointing sternly at the chair in front of her desk. With a sigh, he turned from the door and took the assigned seat, repressing the urge to flop into the chair like a petulant teenager called on the carpet. After all he had done nothing wrong. Merely offered to be nice to the brat. That was a mistake.

McGonagall eyed the dark haired wizard. "Now, we have not finished this discussion, Severus, and you are not about to drop this information on me and prance out of here."

"I do not prance," Snape muttered, but then grew silent at the look he was getting.

"As I was saying, we need to finish talking about these new developments." Withdrawing a sheet of paper, she studied it for a moment. "As of today's list, there are no other first year Gryffindor's staying for the holidays. I have a third year and two fourth years, but Harry would not know them. In other words, he. . ."

"Would be alone," Severus interrupted quietly. At McGonagall's questioning look, the Potions Master sighed and related, "He was worried about being alone. And I promised him he wouldn't be."

"I see. Then I would expect you to honor your promise, Severus."

"In other words spend the holidays with an insufferable brat who might decide being alone is better than being with me," Snape responded. He was starting to regret the moment of weakness with the boy. Why would Potter want to stay with him anyway? And why had he even offered it, for Merlin's sake? He liked his privacy! He did NOT want some snot nosed brat underfoot for two weeks.

The Transfiguration teacher arched her brows. "You are the one who offered it, Severus. Why say it if you did not mean it?"

"I. . .because!" Snape snapped, crossing his arms.

"Because why, Severus?"

Damn it! He didn't want to say, Snape thought as he clenched his teeth. "It was a spur of the moment thing, Minerva. Can't we just leave it?"

"No."

"Well, I've changed my mind. That's the end of it." Snape stood up and took a step away from the chair.

"Severus Snape, sit down!" Minerva commanded. "If you get out of that chair again before I dismiss you, you will be sorry, young man."

Snape blinked. This couldn't be happening! "I am an adult, not a child," he pointed out with a scowl at the stern witch who was glaring right back at him. Despite his words, he found himself retaking his seat just in case.

"Then act like an adult," Minerva shot back. It was time for this young wizard to start admitting a few things and Minerva McGonagall was one determined woman. "Tell me why you promised Harry he would not be alone, Severus."

"Minerva, is this really neces. . ."

"Now, Severus."

Resisting the urge to squirm, Snape folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. Bloody old witch. He hated, absolutely loathed, this! And she knew it!! "Because I didn't want him to go through the pain. Because. . ." he sighed deeply. "Because I care. Happy now?"

"Somewhat," Minerva smirked.

"Are we done now that you have had your entertainment at my expense?"

Shaking her head at the decidedly sullen attitude, Professor McGonagall replied, "Yes, Severus, you may go. Albus needs to know about things and I will assume that you will also be talking to Mr. Potter about his new arrangements."

"Yes, I'll take care of it." Snape stood up.

Moving around the desk, Minerva walked to the door with the dark haired wizard. "This might be good for someone else who is always alone as well," she commented in a seemingly off handed manner.

Snape stopped short and looked at his colleague. "There is a decided difference in being alone at eleven because you can't help it and being alone by choice as an adult, Minerva," he stated. "Good day."

Minerva McGonagall watched Severus disappear down the hallway and then closed the door to her office speaking quietly to herself, "Perhaps not as different as you try to persuade yourself, Severus. One led to another."

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry Potter stood before the office of the Potions Master and took a deep breath before knocking. At the call to enter, he did so and closed the door behind him, looking over at the black robed figure behind the desk. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Potter." Snape motioned the boy closer. "I have been thinking about the incident yesterday with Mr. Malfoy."

Great, Harry thought to himself. So now he was going to be in trouble since Snape had had a chance to reconsider things. He stood waiting for the pronouncement of his fate.

"After you are done with your last class, you will be moving most of your things to my quarters. You will be staying with me for the holidays."

Harry blinked. Okay that was not what he had expected in the least!! "What??"

"Have you gone deaf now, Potter? I said you are staying with me."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Snape sneered at the boy. "I was under the impression that you did not wish to be alone. Or did I misunderstand with all the crying and sniffling?"

Clenching his hands into fists, Harry shook his head. "No, I don't want to be alone. But that wasn't a ploy to get you to let me stay with you."

"It's a good thing for you it wasn't. Otherwise you WOULD find yourself alone," Snape declared curtly. "As it is, you have someone to stay with for Christmas, Potter."

Harry wondered briefly if the man was expecting thanks after his announcement. The boy merely nodded. "Okay."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Harry responded.

"Mr. Potter, I just offered you an answer to your whining. If you can not show a bit more courtesy then you can do without companionship." Snape glared at the impudent boy, wondering again why the bloody hell he had ever thought this was a good idea.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said quietly. In truth he was a bit relieved to have the option of staying with someone, but the entire holidays with Snape? What would it be like? Would he survive?

Nodding, Snape dismissed the boy. "I will expect you after the last class next Friday then."

"Yes, sir." Harry turned for the door and after a final glance, he left. He still had some questions, but they would have to wait. He had to gather his things for his next class.

Severus had read the letter and sighed. Why he should be surprised he didn't know. It was typical of his old friend. Rising from his desk the Potions Master went to speak to McGonagall, informing his colleague of yet another change in plans. So much for a quiet holiday break it seemed.

Having taken care of the details, Snape returned to the dungeons in search of his godson. Most of the students were either doing last minute packing or out playing in the snow. Draco's dorm was empty but the messy bed with a half packed trunk was unmistakably the young Malfoy's. Snape was about to turn away and wait until later to worry with talking to the boy when his dark eyes fell on a piece of paper on the pile of clothes. Going over, the professor picked it up and frowned as he glanced at the familiar script. The scowl intensified as he read it and his anger rose. How could a person be so cold to their own son? Shaking his head, Snape knew now where his little dragon was. Tossing the letter aside, the Potions Master headed for a deserted turret, the favored thinking spot of one Draco Malfoy.

s s s s s s s s s

Slender crossed arms rested on the windowsill as the little boy gazed out the frosty pane at the softly falling snow. The outside world looked so calm and peaceful, perfect for the coming holiday. A holiday which had suddenly become less of a happy occasion for the occupant of the small turret room.

He didn't need the letter to remember the words that now seemed burned in his mind. The ones that had changed him from a happy child packing to go home to the one now alone and fighting back his emotions.

Important job to attend to. Mother will be going, but no place for children. Will make arrangements with your godfather. If possible will come to visit during the spring term. If not will see you in the summer.

Draco leaned his forehead against the cold glass and swallowed hard. It wasn't that he would have such an awful time staying at school in the care of his Uncle Sev. It was the fact that he was staying at all that had him upset. Only a few days earlier he had taunted Potter about people with no family that cared about them having to remain at Hogwarts for the Christmas break. And now this. He could just imagine the return taunts and the glee that would be in Potter's face and Weasley's as well once they found out.

Lost in his thoughts the blond boy didn't notice the footsteps behind him. "I see you have read your letter."

Without looking around, Draco nodded. "Yeah."

Normally Snape would have at the very least arched an eyebrow at the 'yeah' if not issued a verbal reminder to his godson about his manners. Today however, he let it pass. Going to Draco's side, he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I have informed Professor McGonagall and she will add your name to the list of those staying," the head of Slytherin house stated. "You may stay either in your dorm or in my quarters." Snape was well aware that only a very few of his snakes would be staying for the holidays, but if Draco decided he wanted privacy, the Potions Master was willing to allow him the choice.

At his godfather's words, something snapped inside the young boy and Draco turned and flung his arms around Snape. "I don't want to be alone!" he exclaimed, burying his face against his godfather.

Slightly taken aback at the reaction, Snape sighed and put his arms around Draco. Wonderful! He thought, just exactly what he needed. Another emotional child to deal with. And how he was going to tell Draco that he would be sharing Snape's quarters with Potter the man had no idea. For the moment though he concentrated on calming the young one in his arms.

"Alright now, hush, Dragon," Snape stroked a hand through the fine blond hair. "You will not be alone." It was truly amazing that he used the same words so often now, Snape mused. It was not as though he had a limited vocabulary, yet he caught himself speaking nearly the exact phrases to both Draco and Harry these days. The dark haired wizard had to smirk at that. Both boys would be appalled if they knew.

Draco held on a bit longed than he normally would and when he raised his face from Snape's black robes the boy's cheeks were still wet. Wiping a sleeve over his face to remove the evidence of the tears, Draco nodded. "Thank you for letting me stay with you, Uncle Sev."

"You are welcome, Draco. Now go and get washed up. We both need to get to dinner." Snape gave Draco's shoulder a gentle squeeze and then keeping his hand in place, the Potions Master guided the young blond boy from the turret.

s s s s s s s s s s

"You're joking!!"

"No."

"But. . .but it's. . .HIM!"

"Yes."

The blue eyes regarded the boy's dark haired companion as Draco attempted one last time to make some sense of what he had heard. "Uncle Sev, please tell me that you're just kidding."

"I assure you I am not, Draco. Mr. Potter will indeed be spending the holidays here with us," Snape stated. He had known that it would come as a shock to his godson to find out the two boys would be together and therefore the Potions Master had tried to soften the news somewhat by inviting the young Slytherian to dine with him that evening.

"With you, you mean," Draco sneered. "I'M not staying anywhere near him!"

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Then where do you propose to stay?"

Draco bit his lip. He and his godfather both knew that the boy didn't want to have to stay in his dorm but in this case the blond rebel threw normal sense out the proverbial window. "I'll stay by myself!" he stated with boyish bravado. "Anything beats having to be near THAT!"

Not in the mood to deal with petulance, Snape responded, "No, you will not, Mr. Malfoy. You will stay here with me, as we planned. And you will cease the bratty attitude. Or face the consequences." The look leveled at Draco gave clear warning.

The blond looked away and folded his arms, muttering, "Fine."

"What was that?"

"Yes, sir." Draco quickly changed his answer.

Snape nodded and dropped the next bombshell. "I will have the room ready for you and Potter by the time you are done with classes Friday."

Once again Draco's mouth fell open. "THE room?? As in only one?? I have to share?? With HIM??"

The Potions Master sighed. Yet another example of how spoiled his godson was, the man thought to himself. "Yes, Draco, you will be sharing. Think of it as just another dorm room if it will help."

"But it's not! He's not in my house and I don't want to share ANYTHING with him!"

"I do not care what you want, little boy, you will do as you are told." Snape's tone now had a hard edge to it. "You will behave yourself for these next two weeks or you will wish that you had. Am I understood?"

The blond head nodded and Draco refused to look up at his godfather.

"A verbal answer, Draco," Snape reminded.

"Yes, sir," the boy replied softly. "May. . .may I go now?"

"Why?" The question was short and to the point.

"I. . .I have some studying to do," Draco still had his head down.

While Snape knew that might possibly be true, he also knew this child and it was an excuse. One that Draco was hoping his godfather would buy. Snape almost snorted. "It can wait a little while," he stated. Then his tone softened slightly, "Come here, Dragon."

Glancing up, Draco saw the beckoning motion and slid off the couch. Going over to Snape, he stood in front of the man's chair.

"Well?"

The young boy read the invitation in the dark eyes and within a second was forgetting that he was eleven and much to grown up for such behavior as he climbed into his godfather's lap. Feeling the familiar arms around him, Draco dared to voice, albeit in a quiet voice, his feelings. "I thought it was just going to be us."

Severus sighed and smoothed a hand through the blond hair. "Just the two of us? Like in the summer?" The little head nodded. "Dragon, I did not know until you did that you would not be going home for the holidays. I had already talked to Potter about things; the day you were taunting him about staying."

Draco kept his eyes down and idly fingered Snape's robe, wondering if this was going to lead to another lecture.

"Look at me, Draco," Snape directed and once the blue eyes reluctantly rose to meet his, the man continued. "You are not the only student to feel alone and not like the feeling. I would hope that the two of you, since you are both fairly intelligent, can understand that and put aside your differences at least somewhat. If you truly try, I would dare say you might even find a few similarities. But regardless, we will all be spending the holidays together and we will make the best of it."

With a resigned sigh since there seemed to be no way out of it, Draco nodded. "Alright, Uncle Sev."

Thankful to have it resolved with at least one of the brats he would have to deal with, Snape nodded as well and hid a slight smile as Draco laid his head back down on the black robed chest. It would be an interesting two weeks.

s s s s s s s s s

"I still can't believe you're really going to do it."

"What choice do I have?"

Ron frowned as he crammed a few more things into his trunk, making the final preparations for the holidays. "If you had just. . ."

"Just what? Cried to your parents and imposed on them? Begged Hermione's folks to take me with them on their family trip? Complained to McGonagall or Dumbledore?" Harry shook his head. "There wasn't anything I could really do, Ron. We've been over it. Besides," the dark haired boy shrugged trying to act nonchalant, "it's only for two weeks. How bad can it be?"

Wide eyes regarded Harry and one comment sufficed to portray Ron's thoughts. "It's Snape!"

Harry sighed. Who was he trying to fool? His friend was right. The holidays were going to be hell. He glanced over as Hermione entered the dorm room.

"All packed finally?" the young witch inquired, looking at Ron's near to bulging trunk.

"Yeah, all ready for tomorrow," the red head answered.

"What about you, Harry?" Hermione gave Harry a half questioning, half sympathetic look.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he commented quietly.

"Well you should get a chance to look around at least. Maybe you can find some more information." Hermione went over to sit on Harry's bed.

"Oh would you stop harping on that?" Ron spoke up crossly. "It's not like we are ever likely to find out anything."

For weeks now the trio had been aware that something was going on in the castle, some secret guarded by a huge three headed dog. The fact that they had found the dog by total accident and that their friend Hagrid had let a few things slip had only caused the mystery to grow in Hermione's view. And she had dragged the boys along with her on her quest for answers.

Harry had been a much more willing participant than Ron and now at Hermione's suggestion, Harry nodded. "I can try, but I'll probably be under lock and key at all times."

"Not to mention scrubbing cauldrons and cutting up foul ingredients," the red head muttered.

Shaking her head, Hermione proceeded to outline some ideas to Harry while Ron rolled his eyes behind her back. Harry was fighting between listening and laughing until Ron finally said, "It's nearly dinner time, you know."

Hermione paused and looked over. "Don't you ever think of anything other than food?"

"No," came the predictable answer as Ron headed for the exit.

Laughing, Harry and Hermione followed, wanting to make the most of the last night together before the Christmas holidays.

Harry stood in the doorway and shook his head. "No." It was the only thing he could think of to say at the moment, though plenty more thoughts would find their way out of his mouth later. For now the monosyllable sufficed to convey shock, disbelief, anger, hurt, confusion, as well as a few other emotions.

Draco leaned against the doorframe after answering Harry's knock and looked at the other boy, sneering as if he was perfectly at home in the room and fine with things. "Hello, Potter. Finally found your way downstairs I see. Must be a bit of a surprise to find out that I decided to stay with Uncle Sev and told him I would even share a room with you. Of course, Mother says we should have some pity on inferiors even is Father thinks it's all a bunch of rot."

That did it. It had been bad enough to see his friends off knowing that they were going home for an enjoyable time. It had been bad enough to carry his things down from Gryffindor tower to the dungeons. But Harry had resigned himself to the fact that he would be with Snape for two weeks now. However, one thing he hadn't anticipated was Draco Malfoy staying with the Potions Master as well. And Harry drew the line there. He spun on his heel and was seconds away from stomping back down the corridor away from Snape's quarters.

"Where do you think you are going, Mr. Potter?"

Harry paused at the deep voice but then continued determinedly back in the direction from which he had come. "Away from here. I'll stay in the tower. Where I belong."

"You belong here and here is where you will be spending the holidays," Snape decreed.

"Like hell I will," Harry snapped.

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "Language, Potter."

Turning to face his professor, Harry let his tongue take control. "Language?? You expect me to stay with that bloody twit and don't even tell me and all you're concerned about is my language?!?!"

In one stride it seemed Snape was beside the boy, his hand grasping the slender arm as his dark eyes bored into Harry's green ones. "Do not even think of saying more," the cold voice warned.

Harry gulped and inadvertently shrank back slightly at the hard look he was receiving.

Snape glared down for a moment more and then pointed at the open door to his quarters. "Get inside," he ordered.

Still a bit upset, Harry stalked past both his professor and the smug blond boy and stood stiffly beside a chair.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape directed. "Draco, go to the bedroom and remain there until I call for you."

Draco frowned. He had wanted to witness the showdown between his godfather and Potter.

Seeing the frown, Snape quirked an eyebrow. "If you have a problem following directions, I can always allow you to wait in the corner instead."

Now it was Harry's turn to feel a bit smug as he watched the other boy hastily shake his head before stomping down the short hall and disappearing into what Harry assumed was the bedroom.

Once he had been obeyed, Snape turned his attention back to Harry. "I see that Draco is not the only one with a problem obeying. I told you to sit, Potter."

Harry met the Potions Master's eye for a moment and then dropped into the chair, still far from happy as his outward demeanor revealed. It was the inner feelings however that had the boy confused enough to blurt out the question. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I have been busy with getting papers graded and arrangements made for the next two weeks," Snape stated as he walked over to his chair and took a seat. "As you were already staying with me, I did not think it necessary."

Not necessary? Harry stared at the man for a long moment before finally looking away. His anger was in check more now due to the fact the inner hurt was surfacing more strongly. Clenching his jaw, Harry fought it back. Why should he feel hurt? It was Snape.

The dark eyes studied the boy and Snape was a bit shocked at what he saw in the emerald depths before Harry had turned away. There had been a hurt, accusing look that he had not expected. What shocked the Potions Master even more were his own feelings. Perhaps he should have afforded the brat the courtesy of warning him of Draco's presence.

"Look at me, Potter," Snape directed curtly, shoving aside any emotions. "We need to get a few things straight right away."

"Like what?" Harry looked up.

"Like the fact that I expect you to behave and try to get along with Draco for the next two weeks," Snape stated. "You two will be sharing a room and I will not tolerate constant bickering."

A short nod was the only answer the Potions Master received and Snape quirked an eyebrow.

"I trust you understand, Mr. Potter?"

"Yeah. Did you tell Malfoy the same thing? Or is it just me that's supposed to obey while you let him do as he pleases?" Harry responded.

Snape frowned at the tone as well as the words. "The appropriate answer would be yes sir, not yeah, Potter. And what I have discussed with Draco is very similar to what you and I are now discussing."

"Only he knew about everything before now," Harry couldn't help but add in a low tone.

"Yes, he did," Snape agreed. "But you know now. I am not going to allow either of you to waste your holidays so there will be a study period each evening. You will attend meals in the Great Hall the same as always unless otherwise told. You may go places in the castle and on the grounds once you have asked me about it and been granted permission. You will go to bed at a reasonable time each night. And," here Snape gave Harry a harder look, "you will NOT go in the second room on the left of the hall. Is all of this clear, Mr. Potter?"

Another curt nod.

Holding back a sigh, Snape spoke with a hint of frustration. "A verbal answer, Potter."

"Why?" Harry asked flatly. "You've already said how things are going to be. And since I can't go anywhere else the answer's got to be yes, doesn't it?"

Snape looked at the brat for a moment. "Yes, I have already decided that I will not put up with any nonsense. But your answer still should be a yes, sir, not merely a nod."

"Fine. Yes, sir," Harry responded.

The tone made Snape frown. "Are you planning to spend the entire two weeks sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," Harry retorted defensively. Well, alright, maybe he was a little, but more than anything he was trying to figure things out. First Snape had asked him to stay here and that had been a shock, but once Harry got used to the idea, he had to admit deep down that it was nice having a place to go. Somewhere he felt even remotely wanted. Of course he would never tell Ron and Hermione that. They would think he was mental if he let it slip he thought Snape cared. Now though he was glad that he had kept all thoughts to himself. Apparently Snape had only done it out of. . .out of what? Pity? Duty, because of their bond? At this point Harry just didn't know any more. And even if Malfoy was staying too, why had Snape thought Harry so unimportant that he hadn't even told him anything?

The Potions Master observed the boy who was frowning in concentration, unaware that he was being closely scrutinized. The dark eyes took in not only the petulant posture but the confused and pondering look. He wondered what was going through the boy's mind. Of course there were several ways he could find out. . .legilimency, their bond, simply asking. . .yet Snape did none of those. Instead he nodded to what had been Potter's last verbal comment. "Good, because I do not put up with sulking brats. Now," he stood up, "bring your things and let's get you settled in the room you will be using."

Giving the man a long look, Harry at last obeyed and followed Snape to the bedroom set aside for his and Draco's use. It was nothing spectacular, but Harry was impressed none the less. The walls were a color that the boy wasn't sure how to describe. Where the light shone brightest, they seemed to be a silvery light grey color, but then in the darker areas of the room, it was more a charcoal grey. Either way, Harry decided he liked it. It wasn't a dismal look like he had once assumed Snape's quarters would be. A rug with designs in earthy tones of greens and browns and few blues covered the stone floor. There was a bookshelf against the end wall, to the left of the door, and a wardrobe in one corner. A pair of three drawer nightstands stood beside two beds. Each bed had a dark green comforter on it, and the one nearest the right end of the room was already occupied by Malfoy.

The young blond looked over with a disdainful sneer as Snape and Harry entered. Watching Harry put his things on his bed, Draco commented, "There should be a little room in the wardrobe. Though by the looks of things a little will be enough. Just make sure none of your rags touch my clothes."

Harry's eyes flashed in anger. He knew that his everyday clothes weren't the best since they were Dudley's old things, but having that pointed out to him by Malfoy was too much. "I don't need the wardrobe at all," he declared. "Those are for snobs. A drawer is good enough for me." And with those words, Harry turned to cram his small bundle of clothes into the bottom drawer of the nightstand.

A hand reached out to stop the action and Snape looked down at the dark haired boy, his voice firm. "You will hang your clothes up neatly, Potter. There is no reason to go around looking like an unkempt urchin."

"But I. . ." Harry stopped as the professor's eyebrow arched. "Okay, fine."

Snape regarded the boy for a moment and then nodded. Turning to Draco, the Potions Master questioned. "What did I tell you about your behavior, Draco?"

"I haven't done anything wrong," the Slytherian protested.

Taking the two steps to the bed, Snape glared down at his godson and smacked his leg. "Feet off the bed. And desist from your superior attitude. I will not put up with it here." He didn't add, 'and you know it,' but the look spoke volumes and Snape and Draco both knew the underlying words of expectation.

With a huff, Draco swung his feet off the bed as ordered and looked up at Snape. He gave little nod. Obviously he was going to have to torment Potter when his godfather was in another room.

Harry, meanwhile, had put away most of his things while listening to the events transpiring behind him. He allowed himself a feeling of satisfaction that Malfoy had gotten told off a bit. And he felt an unexplainable sense of happiness that Snape wasn't going to allow the Slytherian to rule things. Maybe the next two weeks would be at least livable after all.

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry had always secretly loved Christmas with all the decorations and fanfare. Not that he had ever really experienced it before while living with his relatives. Any and all treats from Christmas cooking and most especially presents were reserved for Dudley only. But that hadn't stopped Harry from looking. And pretending. And dreaming. There had been nights when he was little that he would slip out of his cupboard after the others were snoring away in their beds. Quietly the child would steal into the living room and lie down on the floor and gaze at the twinkling lights on the tree, his mind conjuring up what if's of having a real family and tree of his own.

Now as he entered the Great Hall, adorned with not one but a full dozen shimmering, sparkling, absolutely dazzlingly decorated trees, Harry couldn't hold back the little gasp as his eyes shone with wonder and delight.

"Move it, Potter." Draco's voice interrupted his enjoyment rudely. "You'd think you'd never seen a Christmas tree before."

Pulling himself back from his daydreams, Harry scowled at the blond boy and went to the table to take a seat. Since there were only a handful of students from each house at most and since Christmas was a time for goodwill to all, Dumbledore had seen fit to dispense with the four enormous house tables and for the duration of the holidays, all students sat at one large table.

The staff table was still on its normal platform and as he took a seat, across the table from and slightly further down than Malfoy as after all he didn't want to be too close, Harry glanced toward the head table. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick all appeared to be engrossed in some conversation while Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey were also discussing something which had both witches smiling. Snape as usual sat slightly off to himself and his eyes met Harry's as the boy viewed the adults.

The doors of the hall opened again and a still snowy but cheerful Hagrid entered and made his way to the staff table. "Sorry I'm late," he announced as he headed to his seat. "Had a bit of a time gatherin' the last of the greenery. But it's done now and I'll be puttin' it up right after dinner. Might could use some volunteers though." Here the loud voice was raised even a little louder and the large man's gaze took in both tables.

"Of course we will help," Dumbledore smiled. "And I am sure the children will love to be a part of things. Thank you for thinking of them, Hagrid."

The shaggy head nodded and Hagrid beamed. "Well sure, Professor Dumbledore. The little ones need some fun. What the holidays is all about, after all."

Snape shook his head at the total nonsense. He for one had no plans to join the idle merrymaking and the two boys he had responsibility for had work to be done back in their quarters.

s s s s s s s s s

"Why can't I help?" Harry questioned after dinner was over. He had planned to stay with Hagrid and who ever else decided to help decorate. Of course he had no delusions that Snape or Malfoy would stay, but to be told that he was not allowed angered the boy.

"Because you still have an essay to finish," Snape replied calmly.

"I can do it later. This won't take long and I want to help," the dark haired boy argued.

Malfoy shook his head with a sneer. "Why would you want to? What's so special about tying ribbons around a bunch of greenery? Decorating is for servants."

Harry looked at the other boy and then back at Snape. It was obvious to him that neither of them understood or cared. "Fine," he snapped. "let's go do the essay. I'm sure that will be loads more fun!" He began to stamp off in the direction of Snape's quarters.

"Potter."

The one word was said in a way that had Harry freezing in his tracks and looking over his shoulder. As Snape beckoned him back, Harry involuntarily swallowed hard. Surely Snape wouldn't say or do anything in front of Malfoy.

Once the boy had obeyed and returned to stand in front of him, the Potions Master gazed down at Harry for a long moment, letting the boy wonder and squirm slightly. At last he said sternly, "One hour. If you are not back in our rooms and with quill in hand ready to work by that time, you will regret it, Mr. Potter. Am I quite clear?"

The green eyes blinked and Harry couldn't entirely hold back a small smile of happy amazement at the decree granting him permission. "Yes, sir. One hour. Got it." He turned to hurry off and then stopped and looked back at Snape. "And thanks, sir."

Snape nodded curtly and then placed a hand on Draco's shoulder as the two headed in the opposite direction.

s s s s s s s s s

One hour later a smiling little boy made his way back to the dungeons, not really dwelling on what or who was waiting for him there. Harry had had so much fun helping out.

Madame Pomfrey had confiscated an armful of evergreen boughs and headed off to the infirmary with a sixth year Hufflepuff girl to add some decorations to cheer up the wing. Professor Flitwick had declined helping with the decorations, saying he had done his part with the trees in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall also excused herself as she was going to attend to decorating the Gryffindor common room, with the help of two of the students who were staying. Harry had been torn then, but he had finally opted to stay with Hagrid and about a half dozen other students and put up the greenery in the main hall.

It had turned into a wonderful time for the boy. He had handed over ribbons and small baubles to hang among the fragrance greens and joined his voice with giving opinions as to where each thing would look best. There had been much laughing and the group even began singing carols, led by a rather loud and off key maestro Hagrid. As he approached the door to Snape's quarters, Harry was still softly humming one of the songs.

Opening the door, his spirits still high, the boy greeted the two occupants of the room with a wide grin. "You two don't know what you missed! It was so much fun!"

"I do know one thing you missed," Snape commented dryly. "Your designated time to be back here."

"What?" Harry looked around for the clock as Draco snorted from where he was curled up on one end of the couch reading.

"I said one hour, Mr. Potter. It has now been one hour and seven minutes," Snape decreed.

Harry's smile disappeared. "You've got to be kidding me! Seven measly minutes??"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Seven minutes is enough to still consider you late, Potter."

"That's not fair! I had to use some time to walk down here," Harry fumed. "If you had your quarters in a NORMAL. . ." At Snape's glare, Harry's words died on his lips. A quick glance over at Draco showed him the other boy was only pretending to read now and watching the action over the top of the book with a smirk. Frowning darkly, Harry gave in. . .this time. He was not about to provide Malfoy entertainment at his expense!

Whirling on his heel, Harry stalked toward the hall leading to the boys' bedroom. "Fine! I'll get my books and study till my eyes pop out!" he snapped. "Bloody Scrooge!"

"Language, Potter," Snape warned. "And while you get your books I strongly suggest you leave your attitude."

Since he knew there was no way Snape could see him from the bedroom, Harry stuck out his tongue toward the door and set about gathering up the things he needed. Only to hear the Potions Master's voice drift down the hallway.

"Keep your tongue where it belongs, Potter."

Startled Harry looked at the doorway with amazement. How the bloody hell did he know?? Shaking his head, the boy added yet another book to his stack.

Sitting in his chair in the other room, Snape smiled to himself. Undoubtedly Potter was wondering if his professor could see through walls about now. Although it was simply a matter of knowing how petulant brats usually acted, Snape was satisfied with himself at the moment. Maybe Potter would think for a millisecond before acting next time.

s s s s s s s s s s

Harry awoke to the sound of light snoring and groaned. Honestly, why did he always get stuck with someone who snored?! First Ron and Neville and now Malfoy! Well at least the other two were his friends and a pillow tossed at them was all in fun. With Malfoy it was too tempting to just hold a pillow over the blond boy's head and silence his snores once and for all. Yet even as he thought it, Harry looked over at his enemy and knew he'd never be able to do something that cruel. Even to Malfoy.

The blond was sprawled on the bed as though he owned it, taking up much more room than Harry, who slept curled up the majority of the time. Harry had to admit Malfoy looked less cocky when he was asleep. The normally slicked back hair was loose and tousled and the boy's face was relaxed and young looking instead of being frozen in a sneer. He looked. . .almost normal, Harry thought.

Maybe that was what prompted the dark haired young wizard to react as he did. Seemingly with a mind of their own, his hands seized his own pillow and hurled it at Malfoy.

The satisfying whumph was followed quickly by, "What the. . ." and Draco struggled against his twisted covers to sit upright.

"It's morning," Harry announced with a grin.

"Big deal!" Draco snarled and flung the pillow back at Harry.

Harry caught the pillow and tossed it back on his bed as he got up. "Well, I'm getting up since you snore too loud to sleep through," he stated.

"I do not snore!" Draco declared. "It's. . .common! And Malfoy's don't do it!"

"Yeah, whatever." Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You'd just better watch it, Potter," he warned before flopping back on the bed. "I'm not getting up. It's not like we have classes or anything."

"Suit yourself," Harry shrugged and gathered his clothes before heading to the bathroom to wash up and dress.

As he got ready for the day, the young wizard reflected on the previous evening. In a weird way it had been sort of nice. Snape hadn't said anything else about him being late back to the rooms and the evening had been spent with the boys studying and finishing their essays and Snape reading and making notes. There hadn't been a lot of conversation, but for some unexplainable reason to Harry it had felt comfortable.

He was musing on this when he heard a yell echoing through Snape's quarters. Snickering and wondering what had befallen Malfoy, Harry glanced at the door a moment later as a knock sounded.

"Potter?"

"I'm almost done," Harry called back in reply to the deep voice.

In the hall Snape nodded. "Good. Draco needs a turn." He looked down at the other young boy at his side and was rewarded with a glare that was dagger-like. It made him proud. With a pat to the now wet blond head, Severus returned to the main room to wait on the two boys.

When Harry opened the door, he had to snicker at the sight of Draco standing there in his pajamas, wet and fuming. "What happened to you?"

"Uncle Sev decided I was supposed to be up for breakfast. So he used a spell that doused me with water," Draco replied sullenly. "It's totally stupid to be up this early on holidays!"

Unable to hold back more snickers and wanting so badly to say 'I told you so,' Harry vacated the bathroom and allowed Draco his turn to get ready for the day.

Harry propped his chin in his hand and absently looked around with a sigh.

"Daydreaming will not get the work done, Mr. Potter."

Thinking he was very aware of that fact, Harry stayed quiet only sending a look over at his professor.

A quiet snicker was heard from the other occupant of the table and Harry only just barely resisted the urge to kick Draco under the table. The only thing holding him back was the fact his dislike for examining the meeting place of two of the walls in Snape's sitting room marginally outweighed his dislike for the blond twit. Yesterday when Harry had given vent to his frustration and thrown an eraser at Draco's smirking face, Snape had promptly marched the dark haired boy to the corner and ordered him to stay there until he could behave.

Turning back to his work. . .and why they had work over the holidays was beyond Harry. . .the boy sighed again. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, but to look around Snape's quarters one would never know it. Not so much as a sprig of holly could be seen, let alone a tree.

The Potions Master had made it quite clear that if his young charges had an urge for seasonal decorations they could visit the great hall. There was no need in Snape's mind to drag bits and baubles and half dead greenery into his chambers when the rest of the castle, particularly the main hall and the huge dining hall, were covered with trees and such.

It wasn't that Harry had ever truly celebrated Christmas. He had just in the back of his mind hoped being away from the Dursley's might mean something different. Surely if Draco wanted a tree or something Snape would do it. After all, Harry thought to himself, whatever the other boy wanted, he usually got.

With that thought in mind, Harry decided nothing ventured, nothing gained. He leaned a bit closer to Draco and whispered. "Hey, Malfoy."

"I'm not helping you with lessons, Potter," Draco hissed back.

Harry scowled. "I don't want you to. I was just wondering if you liked Christmas."

Draco looked at Harry as though he'd lost his mind. "Of course I do. Why would you wonder that?"

"Well, do you have a tree at home or anything like that?" Harry pressed.

The other boy frowned and looked back at his books in an effort to avoid meeting Harry's gaze. He really didn't want to think about home. Granted he would have been either confined to his room for certain functions or expected to attend a few parties, but he would have been at home. Not stuck here with Potter. "Yes," he snapped at last, "we have a tree. A huge one up to the ceiling. Now shut up and let me work."

Harry regarded Draco for a moment, but refused to let things go. "Wouldn't it be sorta fun to have one here?"

"No," Draco answered shortly. "Besides, Uncle Sev already said the ones in the Great Hall were enough."

"Indeed he did," came a voice from behind the boys. Snape stood looking down at them, arms crossed. "What part of 'we are not decorating in here' did you not grasp, Potter? And for that matter, you seem to have forgotten that I said work quietly and get your lessons done before lunch if you planned to go outside this afternoon."

Dropping his eyes, Harry sullenly nodded. "Fine, I'll do the work. But I don't see why we can't. . ."

He got no further before a hand was placed under his chin and he was forced to look up into dark eyes which had an arched eyebrow above them. "Because these are MY rooms," Snape stated firmly. "And because I said so. Now either lose the attitude or lose your free time. Your choice."

As Harry looked into Snape's eyes, he swallowed and gave a small nod. Once his chin was released, the boy returned to his work. He still thought it unfair, but he wasn't going to argue any further.

s s s s s s s s s s

Something cold and wet hit Harry in the back as he was standing near the lake. He whirled to see Malfoy sneering at him. Harry glared at the other boy who had obviously just pelted him with a snowball. "What do you want, Malfoy?" The entire Hogwarts grounds and he has to follow me! Harry thought to himself.

Draco approached. "Still upset that you can't have a tree, Potter?" he asked with a slight smirk. The blond boy was still thinking about his normal Christmas' at home and since it was Harry's fault that had been brought up again, it was only right that the dark haired boy suffer for it. At least that was fair in Draco's eyes.

Harry turned away from the words and from Draco. "Shut up and leave me alone, Malfoy."

"Aw, does the wittle baby still believe in Father Christmas? Think without a tree he won't have anywhere to pile your presents?"

"I said shut up, Malfoy." Harry's hand reached for his wand.

Draco didn't miss the movement and his own wand was drawn and ready. "Just try it, Potter."

Instead of reacting with a hex, Harry scooped up a handful of snow and flung it at the other boy.

The one action was all it took. Suddenly wands were forgotten as two young boys dismissed the idea of being wizards for that of simply being eleven year old boys. Draco charged Harry and they both went sprawling in the snow. Punches were thrown, snow shoved into each face, and angry yells carried in the clear air as Harry and Draco proceeded to tussle.

Snape had heard the sounds as he walked the snow covered grounds. Narrowing his eyes, he beheld a dark shape on the ground near the lake and immediately started that way, arriving as Draco struggling on top of Harry attempting to pin the other boy face down in the snow. "Draco! That's enough!"

The sharp voice did not penetrate the boy's mind but the feeling of being pulled off his victim and lifted into the air registered. As did the swat to his backside that was much sharper than Snape's tone. Draco yelped and glared up at his godfather. "HE started it!"

But Snape was already busy with the other young combatant and didn't answer as he pulled Harry from the ground.

Harry experienced an equally hard smack to his own bottom. The sting caused a matching yelp to that of Draco.

Black eyes regarded the two soaking wet and scowling boys. "We will discuss this fully inside," the Potions Master stated. "For now I don't want a word out of either of you. Now march!"

Harry and Draco exchanged a quick look and then they both did exactly what they were told, scampering for the castle and relative safety. At least until Snape caught up with them.

s s s s s s s s s s

Severus Snape glared at the two first years standing nervously before him. Each boy had on soft pajamas and a warm dressing gown, not to mention socks and slippers. The dark hair and blond hair were both still slightly damp and not the neatest, but at least both his young charges had had the experience of a hot bath to ward off any chill and were now dressed snuggly. And ready to face the consequences of their earlier actions.

The dark gaze had Harry shifting a bit and he studied the floor more than the man seated in front of him. Snape had been angry, that much was abundantly clear in the tight lipped expression he had had once they were back in the dungeons. The Potions Master had ordered Draco into the smaller bathroom adjoining his bedroom and sent Harry to soak in the tub in the bigger hall bath. While Harry was now toasty warm due to a combination bath and warming charms on his pajamas, the boy couldn't help but worry that at least he, though probably not the sainted Malfoy, might be warmed in other ways. Snape had that look in his eyes. And Harry would absolutely die if the Potions Master decided to punish him in a more physical way with Malfoy there.

"Which of you would like to explain to me the reason for the fight?" Snape couldn't help but almost smile as both boys jumped at his voice.

Draco looked at Harry and then at Snape. "I told you outside. It was his fault!"

"I didn't ask whose fault it was, Draco. I am fairly certain that each of you would blame the other. I asked what the reason for the fight was," the Potions Master responded.

"H. . .how do you know it was a fight, sir?" Harry hated the way his voice quivered.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Because, Mr. Potter, I am not an idiot."

"Well it could have been just sort of playing around. Like after a snowball fight," Harry was trying to give excuses.

"Hardly," came the dry reply. "Snowball fights do not involve punching. And the yells were not those of two friends playing but rather two angry boys out for blood."

"We didn't draw blood," Harry protested.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Potter, if you are going to continue to try to sidetrack me with feeble excuses, then you may wait in the corner while I speak to Draco."

Harry scowled but got quiet.

"I will ask again," the dark eyes went from one boy to the other, "what started the fight?"

"He pulled his wand on me," Draco answered, giving Harry a slightly victorious little smile.

"I did not!" Harry protested.

"Yes, you did!"

"Did not!"

"Enough!"

Both boys fell silent at the last voice entering the dispute.

"Potter, did you make any effort whatsoever to pull your wand?" Snape questioned.

"Well. . ." Harry bit his lip. "yes, but he. . ."

Snape leaned forward and glared at the boy. "How many times has it been said that students do not draw wands on each other?? It is one of the rules here, Mr. Potter. And need I remind you that you are not above rules?!"

Harry swallowed. He sure didn't want a 'reminder' but he couldn't help but feel angry that Snape wasn't even fully hearing his side. Having Malfoy right there with that little grin of his only made Harry want to punch him again. He tried once more. "But Malfoy was teasing me."

"Teasing you?? So instead of just walking away, you decided to pull out your wand and hex him?!"

"I didn't do it, okay!!" Harry had had enough. "I didn't really use it!! He had his all the way out, not me! Yell at him!!"

Snape rose from the chair in one smooth motion, turned Harry to the side, and delivered two resounding smacks to his bottom. "I may or may not do the yelling here. You however, do NOT yell at me. Is that understood?"

Harry yelped and one hand went back as protection automatically. He nodded and turned his face away from Snape.

"One more outburst and you will regret it, Mr. Potter," the older wizard warned. Then turning his attention to Draco, Snape looked down on his godson. "Did you pull your wand as well, Draco?"

"Only after he did it first! I had to defend myself," the blond boy argued.

"And Mr. Potter had his wand fully out and pointed at you?"

Draco bit his lip and then quickly forced himself to stop the nervous little gesture. He was not going to look worried in front of Potter! "Well, not exactly."

"Then tell me exactly what did happen," the professor ordered.

"He. . ." Draco's head and voice both dropped, "had his hand near it."

The black eyes narrowed. "Near it? So he did not have it out and ready, yet you pulled yours out completely? Is that correct?"

Draco gave the barest of nods.

Snape growled softly and paced to the far side of the sitting room and then stood there a moment before turning back and viewing the two boys who were now exchanging looks. As the Potions Master returned to this chair and took a seat, he commented, "So, Draco, you were teasing Potter. Something you have been warned about, am I correct?" The audible gulp was answer enough for Snape and he went on. "Potter, you made it seem as though you would use your wand, but did not actually take it out. Draco, you however took yours out. And then?"

"Then I hit him with a snowball," Harry put in quietly.

Shaking his head, Snape looked at the duo. "And then you carried it into a full fight I assume?" Two heads nodded in response.

"I told you both that you would be spending the holidays together and that I would not tolerate anything like this, didn't I?" Again two nods gave silent answers, but this time Snape wanted more. "I did not hear any response."

"Yes, Uncle Sev," Draco nearly whispered. He was well aware of the tone in his godfather's voice and where this was all leading. When Snape started demanding a response the best thing to do was give a respectful one and hope he could sit by the next day.

"Yes, sir," Harry said quietly.

Satisfied that each of his charges knew they were in trouble, Snape directed, "Draco, go to the corner. Potter, take off your dressing gown."

Two sets of eyes locked onto the Potions Master face.

"Yes, you are both going to be spanked," Snape confirm their fears. "Now do as you are told."

"Uncle Sev, not. . ."

"Now, Draco. I trust you are aware of what will happen if I have to tell you again."

Draco gave Harry a last look and then headed to the corner. He wasn't about to make it worse, but then again he wasn't going to act like a baby in front of Potter either!

Harry waited until Draco moved away and then untied the belt of his dressing gown, trying not to let his fingers tremble. There was no way he could meet Snape's eye and so he kept his gaze on the floor. This couldn't be happening again, he told himself over and over, but when Snape reached out and took his arm and guided Harry face down over a firm lap, the little boy knew it was indeed happening.

Snape settled Harry into position and then tugged his pajama pants down, ignoring the little shiver that went through the boy as his bottom was bared. "You were warned about how I expected you to behave during the holidays and you broke the rules," he stated, making Harry aware of the reason for his punishment. Then the Potions Master's hand came down firmly on the small backside.

Unable to help himself, Harry yelped at the sting of the first swat. Even being smacked with his dressing gown on had at least offered a bit of protection. He wasn't aware that those had only been warning swats as well and this was a full fledged spanking. All Harry knew or cared about was that it hurt! And the longer it went on, the more it hurt, until after about eight solid spanks tears were slipping out of his eyes and he was squirming over Snape's knee.

Again and again the strong hand landed on the upturned bottom, delivering a stinging message that Harry had misbehaved. As the child began to wiggle more, Snape readjusted his hold around the skinny waist, noting how thin the little boy was. That didn't stop him from thoroughly warming the little behind though and after a full dozen swats had been administered, Snape spoke. "I trust that there will be no more fights with Mr. Malfoy?" A harder smack impacted Harry's undercurve.

"Ow! N. . .no sir." He cried as his bottom burned.

"And you will NOT draw your wand or even make it appear that you are going to." Two more sharp spanks landed one on each side of the small bottom, directly on the sensitive crease where bottom and thigh join.

Harry sobbed and his hands clung to Snape's robes. "I w. . .won't! Oh please!!"

"You had best remember this lesson, because if we have cause to repeat it, it will be with something other than my hand." A final two spanks seared the red bottom, one on the sit spot and one to the center of both cheeks.

Crying hard, harder than he had wanted to given that Draco was there listening, Harry felt his pants returned to normal and then found himself righted and sitting on Snape's lap. He never thought to question the arms that went around him, but instead leaned into the embrace, crying against the Potions Master's chest.

"Alright now, it's over," Snape stated as he rubbed Harry's back. "Calm down, Harry. Take deep breaths."

Harry found himself obeying and after a few sobs gave a quivery hiccup and managed to stop most of the tears.

'Harry??' Draco couldn't believe his ears and heedless of the rules, the blond boy turned around. He had listened from his position in the corner to the punishment, which had sounded like a pretty good one, and worried what his fate would be if Snape was being this hard on Potter and he hadn't even really pulled out his wand. However it was not the concern for his impending chastisement that caused the young Slytherin to look over his shoulder. What he saw hit him as hard as the words. There sat Potter. In Snape's lap. Being held. Being comforted. Being. . .Draco whirled back to face the corner, hands clenched into fists and blinking rapidly.

Snape gave the dark haired young wizard a final pat on the shoulder, knowing that he still had Draco to deal with, and eased the sore little boy to his feet. "Go and trade places with Draco," he directed.

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Harry quietly responded, "Yes, sir," and proceeded toward the corner.

"Draco, come here," the Potions Master called.

Jaw set and eyes bright, the blond boy walked past Harry without a word, refusing to even give him a glance. Draco took off his dressing gown and placed it on the couch before going to his godfather's side. Silently he bent over Snape's lap and waited.

Quirking an eyebrow at the action but pleased to see his godson taking responsibility for his actions without a fuss, Snape pulled down Draco's pajama pants, leaving his bottom bare for a sound spanking. The deserved punishment was not long in coming and the firm hand was applied to every inch of the small backside.

Draco fought hard not to show how much he was hurting. He didn't want to make a sound but once he began squirming the whimpers came rapidly and then dissolved into yelps and tears.

"You will not fight with Mr. Potter," the Potions Master stated as he smacked Draco's sit spot. "And you never. . .draw your wand. . .on a fellow student. . .with the intent. . .to harm them." Each phrase was punctuated by a solid spank to the most tender area where bottom and thigh met; two to the left crease and two to the right, with a final resounding smack spanning the base of both now reddened mounds.

Sobbing as his lower bottom was ignited, Draco nodded frantically. "I. . .I w. . .won't!! Prom. . .ise!!!"

Trusting that he had made his point, Snape eased Draco's pants back up and lifted the boy into his arms for a hug. It was a total shock to find hands pushing him away and with a sob, Draco yelled, "No!" and bolted from the room.

Snape watched in confusion as his godson ran to the bedroom Draco and Harry shared. A multitude of thoughts went through the Potions Master's head. Draco usually relished a hug after being punished, so why this? Was it because of Harry being there? Holding back a sigh, Snape stood up and went to the corner. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, he commented, "You may leave the corner but remain in the sitting room until I return."

Harry nodded, looking up at his professor and wondering what was going on. He still couldn't actually believe that Draco had gotten a spanking equal to if not worse than Harry's. As Snape left the room, Harry made his way over to the couch and curled up on his side, pondering the events of the day.

s s s s s s s s s s

Closing the door behind him, Snape made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He had no doubt that the boy's bottom was sore and stinging at the moment, but the reaction was disproportionate to the punishment. In a quiet voice, Snape spoke, "Draco, what's wrong? You act as if you've never been over my knee before."

"G. . .Go'way," the blond boy sobbed, his face still pressed into the pillow.

"I am going nowhere. Now lift your head before you suffocate," Snape ordered.

Draco's only response was to cling tighter to the pillow.

With a sigh, Severus pried the boy's arms loose and forced his chin up a bit. "Talk to me, Draco. What's wrong? And do not think for an instant I will buy the answer of nothing."

"You. . .you called him H. . .Harry!" Draco managed to blurt out before yanking free of Snape's grasp and attempting to hide in the pillow once more.

Snape looked at the child. "And that is the reason for all this?" he questioned, his brow furrowed as he attempted to grasp why in Merlin's name that had Draco reacting this way.

This time the young Slytherin's temper slipped and he rolled to his side to look up at his godfather. "Yes!!"

Arching an eyebrow, Snape responded automatically. "Do not yell at me, Draco."

Tears filled the grey eyes again and slipped down the young boy's cheeks at the rebuke. "Just go away then. Go back to. . .Harry!"

"Draco, stop this. You are behaving like a jealous two year. . ." Snape stopped short as the real meaning behind the words hit him. He shook his head and with a sigh pulled his godson into his arms. "Oh, Dragon."

The slim arms wrapped around the Potions Master and Draco began to cry harder as he realized that his godfather understood now. It was as if the action made it safe to talk about his feelings now. "You never call anyone else by their given name. Not even other Slytherin's," he sobbed. "Only me!"

"And so you thought he was taking your place. Just as you thought that he would ruin any time we had together during the holidays," Snape commented, rubbing Draco's back. "You little dunderhead. As if anyone could replace you." The last was spoken quietly and the affection for the child in his arms was clear in the dark haired wizard's voice.

Draco sniffled and nodded, still holding tightly to Snape.

"Listen to me, Dragon," Snape spoke in a firm yet gentle voice. "I do not normally call students by their given names, true. But this is a special case and since you are both staying with me, it makes sense that at times I do call him Harry." Snape was not about to go into the connection with Harry. "It does not signify that you mean any less to me. That will never happen."

"You promise?" Draco looked up at the Potions Master. "No matter what?"

"Regardless of what you might do, or of how hard I have to punish you, you will forever be my little Dragon. There could never be another like you," Snape responded sincerely. Then smoothing back Draco's hair, he added, "Thank Merlin."

"Hey!" Draco protested at the slight tease, but he hugged his godfather tightly before leaning back, feeling more reassured.

With a smile Snape returned the hug and then asked, "Are you ready to return to the other room now?"

After thinking about it for a moment the blond young wizard sighed and nodded. "I guess so. But he better not say anything!"

"I seriously doubt that he will."

Draco gave another nod and slid off his godfather's lap and together they made their way back to the sitting room.

Harry sat up with a slight wince and looked at Draco and Snape as they entered, but he stayed quiet.

"I believe the two of you have something that needs to be said to each other," the Potions Master commented as he took a seat in his chair.

Barely holding back similar groans, the boys regarded each other. Not a word was said but as green eyes met grey it was nearly as if a silent countdown had occurred. Two young voices blurted out "Sorry," at the same time.

Suppressing a smile, Snape nodded. "Very good. Now since you two are in no condition to attend dinner in the great hall this evening, we will eat here." He ignored the frowns that statement got. "I meant your state of dress." The dark head nodded to the pajamas that Harry and Draco wore. Of course the man was well aware that both boys were also sore.

Mercer the house elf was called and the food brought. The trio dined together and then went about the nightly routine they had developed of reading and talking, conversation gradually returning to what passed for normal with them.

s s s s s s s s s s

The lights twinkled like small stars in the dark of the room as he crept closer, drawn toward the sight. He knew he technically shouldn't be here but it was safer than any other time. The snoring drifting down the stairs had let him know that. As he reached the tree, Harry sighed and gave a small smile. While none of the presents beneath the branches were his, they couldn't stop him from looking at the tree itself. Even his uncle wasn't cruel enough to do anything like put his eyes out to avoid that.

And for Harry just the tree was a present because he could stare at it and the lights and become lost in the glow. In the world of his mind. The world where he had a real family, one who had a Christmas tree that they all sat around and looked at and enjoyed together. A world in which he didn't have to sneak out in the middle of the night just to dream about things because his dreams would be real. A place where he was loved and cared for.

As he laid down on the floor on his back and stared up at the sparkling lights, his eyes focused on one and he let himself start imagining again. The dazzling light shimmered and a face came into view. Harry blinked and sat up abruptly. Snape! Why?? Why now?! He wanted to yell. He had gone weeks without another dream, without a sign of their link, and now this. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It never had when he was really at his relatives and lying under the Christmas tree.

The dark eyes seemed to bore into his own and Harry felt even his thoughts weren't hidden. It's just a dream, he told himself and then fought himself awake.

Sitting up in his bed, Harry looked over at where Draco was asleep in the other bed. Why had he dreamed that? he wondered. Was it because Christmas trees had been mentioned today? And why had Snape been there? It wasn't like the other dreams where Harry was in danger and Snape rescued him. This was a good dream. With a deep sigh, the boy flopped over in his bed, curling up on his side and trying to get back to sleep, a sleep without any dreams hopefully.

s s s s s s s s s

In the other room, Snape leaned back against the headboard, fingers idly tapping together as he mulled over what he had seen. The tree had seemed to captivate the younger version of Potter that had been in the dream. Something so simple and seemingly foolish. Yet Severus knew now why the boy had asked about the tree earlier in the day. He had seen the pile of presents in the dream. Not a one of them bore Harry's name. A tree was all the child had to represent Christmas.

The bitter, cynical part of him scoffed at such an idea. Surely the dream was twisted somehow. After all, one's mind could manipulate dreams. But the other part of him knew that was not the case. The dream coupled with the memories of what Potter had said regarding his relatives when he and Snape discussed Harry not going home for Christmas all added up. Unfortunately. Perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived was not a spoiled brat after all.