A little over twenty-four hours after promising his Professor not to break school rules again, Harry Potter did precisely that.  It wasn't that he wanted to break the rules.  But Madame Pomphrey was entirely too protective, in his opinion, and Harry had a promise to keep.

Despite his protests that he was perfectly fine!  - Really! - the medi-witch had refused to allow him to leave his bed for another full day.  So Harry had convinced Ron to sneak his invisibility cloak to him when he and Hermione came for their afternoon visit to the Infirmary.

"What do you need it for?" Ron had questioned with grim suspicion while slipping him the folded cloak.

"I hope you're not planning any more dodgy stunts, Harry. You're in enough trouble already," Hermione scolded.  "You're not even supposed to be out of bed!"

Harry shoved the cloak under his pillow and sighed.  He liked Hermione.  She was very smart and brave, and was a true, loyal friend.  But he secretly thought she was too bossy and he found it quite annoying sometimes.

"I won't get into trouble. I don't want to do anything bad, I promise," he reassured them. "I'm just tired of sitting in bed.  I'm tired of this room!  I'll go mental if I don't get out of here for a little while!  When Madame Pomphrey goes to dinner, I'm just going to walk around a bit.  I won't go far - I swear!"  (It wasn't a total fib - he wasn't going that far.)

"Then we'll sneak up here and go with you," Ron suggested.

"No!" Harry shook his head vehemently.  "If you two go missing at dinner, someone will notice.  They'll suspect we're up to something.  I'll just go by myself.  I'll be fine - really - I'll be back in bed before Pomphrey finishes her pudding."

He didn't think his friends would ever stop nagging, but he'd finally convinced them.  That evening, only minutes after Pomphrey had left for the Great Hall, Harry was up and dressed, making his stealthy way to Gryffindor Tower.  A short time later, he hurried across the grounds, his invisibility cloak draped awkwardly to conceal both Harry and his bulky burden.  He reached the Quidditch pitch just as the sun began to dip below the surrounding peaks, bathing the pitch in a rosy light.  He looked around cautiously,  then lowered the cloak to his chin.

"Did you bring it?" 

A voice from the shadows of the stands made him whirl nervously. "Yeah."

Draco sauntered onto the field, eyeing him strangely.  "You look really creepy like that, Potter."

"Oh." Harry blinked. He'd forgotten that only his head was visible, drifting bodiless above the ground.  "Sorry." He shrugged off the cloak and held out his most prized possession.  "Here it is," he said. "Don't bend the twigs and don't bang into anything!" he warned, handing the Nimbus 2000 over to the other boy.

Draco gave him a disgusted look. "Don't worry, Potty - I won't."  He took the broom with almost reverent hands. "Wow.  This is brilliant," he said admiringly.

"It's really fast!  And the response is unbelievable - you barely have to think about a turn and it does it!"

"What if someone sees us?" He glanced back across the field toward the castle. "It'll be dark soon.  We're not supposed to fly after dark."

"It was your idea to do this during dinner, Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes.  With a sigh, he picked up the invisibility cloak and offered it to Draco.  "Here - put this on.  It won't cover you completely.  It will most likely flap in the wind when you fly, but it might help some."

Draco clutched the cloak in one hand and the broom in the other, looking as if all his Christmases and birthdays had come at once. "Merlin, Potter!!" he breathed. "Do you know how bloody lucky you are?"

"Just hurry up!" Harry huffed. "Get on with it, before Hooch finishes eating and decides to come out here."

"Okay, okay!" Draco handed the broom to Harry while he draped the cloak over his shoulders and pinned it securely.  Then he clambered aboard the gleaming Nimbus, arranging the long cloak's folds to cover most of the broom.

"Aren't you going to cover your head?"

"Nah - I want to be able to see properly," Draco smirked. "We're too far away anyway. Who's going to notice a ‘head' zooming around the pitch?"

"If anyone does, they'll think they've gone mental," Harry snickered.

"Just keep a lookout, all right?"

"All right - but you can only go one hour this time.  I have to get back to the Infirmary before Madame Pomphrey comes back."

"Hey!  The deal was two hours!" Draco objected.

"I know!  You'll just have to take the other hour another time," Harry grimaced.  "I'm sorry, but Pomphrey watches me like a hawk!  It's the best I can do."

Draco scowled at him, then shrugged.  "All right. . .it's okay, I guess."

"Go on!" Harry urged with a pointed glance back at the castle, lit up in the growing dusk.  "And be careful!  It's very sensitive - don't over-steer!" he admonished, as Draco gripped the broom and shot up into the air.

It was rather odd to watch Draco's disembodied head soaring all over the pitch.  Flashes of broom and boy did flicker from time to time as the cape fluttered with Draco's dips and turns, but Harry wasn't worried.  If someone did look outside toward the pitch, they probably wouldn't notice.  It was getting too dim to see much, even close up.  Anyone looking would most likely think the small flashes of pale hair were just birds, or bats or something.  Harry laid back on the grass, still warm from the afternoon sun, and watched Draco fly.  The boy's face was lit up with a wide grin, and Harry knew exactly how Draco must be feeling.  He'd never seen the Slytherin having so much fun before.

As the lengthening shadows grew, Harry looked back at the school nervously, and finally waved the other boy down.  Draco dived at him from thirty feet up, banking sharply a few from the ground and sliding to a perfect hover right in front of Harry.  The blonde boy slid from the broom with a triumphant grin and patted the broom's handle.

"That was brilliant!" he crowed.  "Merlin!  I have GOT to have one of these!"  He handed the broom back to Harry with an exhilarated smile and unpinned the cloak. "I am so going to nag my parents this summer - I want a broom just like it!  My father has to get me one - he just has to!"

Harry grinned at the other boy's enthusiasm.  "Here - we should share the cloak going back, just in case.  You're taller than me - you hold the cloak over both of us and I'll carry the broom."

"Why carry it?" Draco grinned wickedly as they fumbled with the cloak.  Harry shot him a doubtful look. "No one can see us under here."

"Okay," Harry shrugged and positioned the broom, climbing on toward the front, leaving room for Draco to climb on behind him.  They draped the cloak to cover themselves, but there wasn't enough left to hide the disconnected front and back of the broom.

"Only a few feet up - and not too fast," Harry insisted nervously as they rose.  "And for Merlin's sake, don't fall off! A body dropping out of thin air would be a little hard to explain!"  They both snickered at the image that warning conjured, and were soon skimming along about four feet from the lawn, gliding toward the castle at a leisurely pace.

"You should try out for Quidditch next year, Draco," Harry murmured softly.  "You fly really well."  He couldn't see the other boy's startled look.

"Uh - thanks.  I was planning to."

"What position are you going out for?"

"I don't know - maybe chaser."

"You're light and fast.  If your hands and eyes are as sharp as your turns, you'd make a good Seeker."

Draco stared at the back of Harry's head in bewilderment.  "If I was Seeker, that means I'd play against you.   We'd be enemies.... . "

Harry shook his head.  "Not enemies - rivals.  Competitors."

"What's the difference?" Draco snorted as they reached the castle courtyard. 

Harry brought the broom down to a halt, and planted his feet on the ground.  He looked back over his shoulder at Draco with an almost quizzical frown. "The difference?" he echoed.  "Malfoy - you can compete against someone without being enemies.  There is such a thing as friendly rivalry, you know."

"Who says we're friends?' Draco hissed stiffly.  "Besides - every time we played against each other, one of us would have to lose."

"So?" Harry retorted with mild amusement.  "What's the big deal?  Quidditch is supposed to be fun.  It's just a game."

Draco shook his head, a slow grin of disbelief softening his haughty features.  "You're hopeless, Potter.  You do know that, don't you?  Just a game!" he sniffed.

"You're just like Ron," Harry quipped, glancing around and pulling the cloak off of them.

"Me?" Draco hopped off the broom with a disgusted snort.  "Like the Weasel?"

"He thinks Quidditch is the main reason for living too!" Harry snickered.

"Kindly do not compare me with that pathetic. . ."

"Draco!"  Harry cut him off with a soft word and a sharp scowl.  "I know you don't like my friends,  but I'd appreciate it if you didn't make fun of them in front of me," he said quietly.

He and Draco exchanged a long challenging stare.  No one said anything for a minute - then Draco looked away, shrugging dismissively. "Yeah.  Okay, Potter.  Whatever."  He sauntered away toward the front entrance, then looked back with a smirk.  "You'd better put that cloak back on and get moving." he warned lightly.  "It looks like dinner is over - people are starting to leave the Great Hall."

With a soft curse, Harry concealed himself, clutching the broom to his side.  He dashed for the entrance past a sniggering Draco. "See ya, Draco," he whispered distractedly.

"Later, Harry," Draco murmured with a grin.

----- ----- -----

It turned out dinner was only just ending as Harry hurried through the foyer, but he still had to dodge a few students on the stairs.  He knew there wasn't time to return his broom and cloak to his dorm, so he decided to hide them under his bed until he could sneak out of the Infirmary again. 

As soon as he reached the empty corridor outside the ward, he stopped, pulled the cloak off, and wrapped it around the broom. He guiltily hid the long bundle behind his back, even though it was invisible, and reached out for the door handle.  To his dismay, the handle escaped him as the door was flung open from the other side.

"MR. POTTER!"  Madame Pomphrey towered over him in all her outraged glory.  "WHAT is the meaning of this?  What are you doing out of bed?" she screeched. "Where have you been?"

"He was with me."

A deep silky voice sounded behind Harry, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  He gaped back at Professor Snape.

Bloody Hell!  Where did HE come from?

The Potions Master stepped forward and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "The boy was annoyingly restless.  I thought a short supervised walk and some fresh air might help him sleep better," Snape explained blandly.

"Oh." The professor's statement seemed to deflate Pomphrey's ire.  "Well.  I hope he didn't overexert himself."

"Not at all," Snape replied smoothly. He slid his hand off Harry's shoulder.  Harry felt the man's grip suddenly fall on the cloak-wrapped broom behind him.  "I made certain he did not tire himself.  I was watching him every moment."

Oh, shite.

Snape's insinuation did not escape Harry.  He dared not look at the sinister man.

I am in SO much trouble.

"Well, don't just stand there, Mr. Potter.  Come along - back into bed with you," Pomphrey gestured grimly.

Harry started to move forward, then hesitated as he felt the tug on his invisible broom.  Snape had a firm grip on it behind Harry's back.  Short of engaging in a bizarre tug-of-war with the man,  there was little Harry could do except let go.  He relinquished the bundle with a distressed sigh and followed the medi-witch.

Pomphrey was so busy fussing over Harry, she didn't even notice the Potions Professor setting something unseen on the  empty bed nearest the door.  Much to Harry's embarrassment, she replaced Harry's clothes with pajamas with a preemptory wave of her wand.  Then she bustled him into bed with a disapproving frown.

"May I at least go to the Leaving Feast tomorrow night?" Harry asked plaintively.

"We will see.  You may, if you sleep well tonight and take it easy tomorrow," Pomphrey agreed reluctantly.

Snape moved closer and stood at the foot of the bed as the medi-witch got him settled.  Harry avoided the man's cool stare and tried to delay the inevitable by keeping Pomphrey at his side with desperate requests.

"May I have another warming blanket, please Madame?"

"My headache is back.  May I have a potion, please?"

"May I have another pillow, please?"

"My water jug is empty, Madame. . .may I please. . ."

"I'll get the boy his water," Snape finally interrupted. "I'm sure you have more important things to do, Madame Pomphrey."  She gave them both a skeptical glare and flounced back to her office.

Harry sank lower under his covers.  "Were you following me?" he asked sullenly.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since you left the Infirmary."

"Oh." Harry didn't bother to ask how the professor could follow him when he was invisible.  There was a long pause.

"Before you yell, can I explain?"

"You may."

"I promised Draco he could ride my Nimbus.  The night. . .everything happened,  when I couldn't find you, Draco said he'd give you my message about the Stone.  I promised he could ride my broom if he did.  We had a deal.  You can't go back on deals."

Snape didn't comment, merely staring down at him impassively.

"Madame Pomphrey wouldn't let me get up, and I didn't think we'd get another chance," Harry whined softly.  "I only walked down to the pitch - and I didn't tire myself out - I swear."

Harry dared to peek up at the stern Potion Master.  The man's face was unreadable, but there was a strange gleam in his black eyes.  "I know I shouldn't have left without permission, but I didn't do anything really bad.  And I promised Draco!"  he grumbled.  Snape crossed his arms across his chest and just stared down at him.

"All right - I'm sorry I had to disobey Madame Pomphrey," Harry hissed sulkily.  "But I'm not sorry I went.  You can punish me if you want, but I had to do it.  A deal's a deal." He hunched lower in the bed and stared sullenly at his clenched fists.

When his professor finally spoke, his words were not at all what Harry expected.  "I am glad to see that the two of you were able to set your differences aside - at least temporarily."

Harry gaped at him.

"I would like to see you and Draco get along better," Snape said quietly.  "You could be good for each other.  Draco is cunning and he thinks things through - he reflects before acting.  You are loyal and solicitous - you look out for your friends."  Snape's expression softened - he looked almost benevolent.  "Draco needs friends.  He would deny it of course. . but those thugs he associates with only shadow him at their father's bidding.  I don't think he has any true friends."

Harry blinked, not certain what to say.  "I wouldn't mind being his friend.  He was pretty decent tonight.  He can be all right - when he's not being prissy and hateful."

A ghost of a smile played across Snape's lips.  "Draco can be much more pleasant when he's not trying to emulate his father."  Snape leaned over and adjusted Harry's blankets.  "Do you want a sleeping draught?"

Harry shook his head, a feeling of intense relief and contentment settling over him.  It seemed Snape wasn't angry with him.  He'd even covered for him with the over-zealous medi-witch. He decided to take advantage of the austere man's unusually benign mood.  "Can I ask you something?"

"No," Snape smirked faintly.  "But you may ask me a question."

Harry resisted rolling his eyes.  "May I ask you something?"  Snape nodded, arching a brow sardonically.  "It's about. . . about something Professor Dumbledore said."

Snape's expression turned sober and he sat in the chair beside Harry's bed with a solemn nod.  "I will try to answer if I can."

Harry chewed at a fingernail nervously.  "Professor Dumbledore said you hated my father - you never forgave him, because he saved your life.  He said you didn't like being in his debt and that's why you've looked out for me. . . why you protected me - just so you could repay the debt."

A strange bitterness flared in Snape's eyes, and he scowled.  "Is that what he said?"

Harry nodded.  "Is it true?"

It was several moments before Snape answered.  His expression remained aloof, but dark emotions flashed behind his enigmatic gaze. "It is partly true," he said at last.  "Your father and I did not get along - I have told you this.  And James did save my life - in a way.  Although he was part of the prank that nearly killed me, he prevented my death at the last moment.  But the Headmaster is wrong about my motives.  I blamed your father for participating in the prank, and I have never felt a life debt owed to him. I don't believe you owe a life debt to someone for not killing you.  And I have not protected you because of that.  I protected you, initially, for your mother's sake - not your father's."

"My mother's?" Harry stared at him.

"We were friends, of a sort - when we were students here at Hogwarts.  At first, I watched over you for the sake of that friendship," Snape replied softly.

"At first?"

Snape absently pulled Harry's fingers from his worrying teeth.  "Yes.  Later, I did it because I wished to. . .I did it for your sake, not hers."

"Oh." Harry blushed, feeling unexpectedly pleased.  "You were friends with my mother? What was she like?"  he asked shyly.  "Everyone talks about my father - Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid. . . even Hermione knows more about him than I do.  But no one ever talks about Mum."

A small smile warmed the man's harsh face in a way Harry had never seen before.  "I will tell you about her, if you like. . .but not tonight.  You need to sleep."  He removed all but one of the pillows at Harry's head, making him lie flat, and held out his hand.  "Glasses."

Harry handed them over without complaint and turned on his side as Snape placed them on the night table and stood.  "What about  .... .?" Harry glanced pointedly at the bed where his invisible broom and cloak lay.

Snape gave him a very stern look.  "I shall keep those for the time being. . . to ensure you do not make any more unapproved flights," he said. He smirked at Harry's disappointed pout.  "You should not need them for the next day or so. You may retrieve them from my quarters the morning the train leaves."  He cleared his throat and added stiffly,  "You may join me for breakfast that morning - if you can manage to drag yourself from your bed by eight-thirty."

Harry's pout vanished and he smiled.  "I'd like that - thank you ,sir."

Snape nodded briskly. He stalked to the foot of the bed and stopped, glancing back at Harry.  "I watched Draco flying on your broom this evening," he said quietly.  "He seemed very. . . jubilant.  I was pleased.  Thank you, Harry."  He turned and strode out, grabbing up Harry's invisible treasures on his way out.

Amazed, Harry watched the door swing shut as Snape left.  He sighed contentedly.  After three days in bed, the fresh air and exercise had tired him, though he would not have admitted it.  He curled up snugly under his blankets and was asleep in minutes.