The sound of a sharp, coarse, caw woke Harry from his sleep. The culprit, a silken black raven, wobbled precariously on the window overhang, glossy wings beating against the glass before letting out another throaty squawk, talons scoring deep ruts in the sill as it threw itself into the bright morning sky.

Sitting up, Harry stared in puzzlement at the curtains, wondering why on earth they were open, when he heard Snape’s cool brogue from the door.

“Good, you’re up.”

Harry glanced at the bedside table, the clock informing him of the time, and he wrinkled his nose at the display.

“Only seven.” he mumbled, earning raised eyebrows from the Professor.

“Only?” Snape drawled. “Potter the day is half wasted by six. You’re lucky I didn’t have you down in my laboratory slicing bat eyes hours ago.” He moved towards the window and slid the latch from its hook before hoisting the heavy pane upwards; allowing the crisp air to billow into the room. He turned to Harry, who had retreated back under the covers, and shot the boy a distasteful look.

“Up, Potter.”

“But I never get up this early at Hogwarts, and even when we have class I -” Harry paused, a bemused frown contorting his brow as he stared up at the Professor. Severus smirked. He could see the wheels turning within the boy. Any moment now he would realize and…

“Down…down in your laboratory?” Harry asked, softly, slowly, as if he wasn’t sure if he’d misunderstood Snape’s words.

“Yes, Potter, down in my laboratory. However, I can hardly be expected to make the offer to a slugabed now can I?” Snape replied, forcing his face to retain its typical aloofness, though it was all he could do to hold back a chuckle at seeing Harry’s reaction. The boy threw off his covers and made a mad dash for the bathroom before skidding to a halt, racing back to his trunk, rummaging, grabbing a handful of clothes, and running back to the bathroom, slamming the door shut in his enthusiasm. The door opened almost instantly, and Harry’s flushed face appeared, managing an eager sorry before carefully and quietly closing the door.

Severus snorted, shaking his head at Harry’s excitement, an amused smile on his face which he quickly forced back to his usual emotionless veneer as Harry emerged from the bathroom minutes later, hair damp, droplets of water clinging to his neck.

“I’m ready, Sir.”

“Right, down for breakfast first.” Snape instructed, turning on his heel and striding across the room, leaving Harry standing looking rather disappointed at the thought of delaying an actual approved visit to the illicit lab. Snape, having realized the Harry wasn’t following, turned and aimed a trademark glare at the boy.

“Potter, if you even think I’m allowing you to forgo the morning meal you are even emptier headed than Longbottom. The day I –” Severus paused, remorse nibbling at his consciousness as he watched Harry’s face, crestfallen, rejected, as accepting of the affront as he was to his uncle’s beatings, and Severus’ own expression altered, regret shading his features as he walked slowly back to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I apologize.” he said solemnly, pausing momentarily before adding, as a way of explanation. “I forget myself. It will not happen again.”

Harry looked up at Snape with an almost startled look, which at once brightened as he awarded the man a pardoning smile.

“S’alright, Professor.” he replied meekly, a little uncomfortable at Snape’s declaration, never having had an adult apologize to him before. Well, unless he counted Uncle Vernon telling him he was sorry Harry had ever been born, which he didn’t.

Severus nodded, not yet in possession of adequate amiability to return the grin. Instead, he retained his gentle hold on the boy’s shoulder, and they walked side by side across the room before Snape allowed Harry to precede him, the hand still there, the display of affection not lost on Harry as he walked down the dusky hallway, the smile still on his face.

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After breakfast, which was eaten far too hastily by Harry according to the Professors admonishments, the two returned to the pock-marked stone door, Harry practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as Snape pulled the heavy slab open, a scented gust of wind their greeting.

“Smells like mint.” Harry said, smiling. “Mint and ginger and…” he inhaled deeply and looked up at Snape. “and fire.” he finished.

“I work with dozens of ingredients, Potter.” Snape replied. “I find it interesting you would identify with the two main bouquets of Polyjuice Potion.”

“I did?” Harry responded quickly, eyes wide as he stared up at the potions master. He felt the blood rush from his face, and Snape’s eyebrows rose in obvious recognition of the boy’s sudden pallor.

“Yes,” Snape replied. “Fluxweed and Knotgrass are exceedingly similar to those two aromas.”

Harry feigned a cough and swiped at his brow before replying with an innocent sounding oh, which led to the narrowing of eyes on Severus’ part before he shook his head slightly, dismissing the strange behaviour…for now, and he reached into his robes, withdrawing his wand and placing it against a pearl white stone just inside the doorway. There was a low, growling sound, and suddenly the wall seemed to melt into a sheer veil, a shimmering, ethereal barrier that glowed with a gentle white light. Harry stood astounded as the Professor took him by the wrist and led him through the glistening curtain, and upon emerging, he found himself staring at the collection of cauldrons in the corner of the lab. Mouth agape in astonishment, he looked around in disbelief before frowning

“I walked down!” he exclaimed heatedly. “I walked down those horrible stairs, and I almost fell a bunch of times, and I cut my hand!”

“An effective deterrent is it not?” Snape replied, smirking, forgetting for a moment the seriousness of the night prior, and it swept back to him like an icy blast of water. He narrowed his eyes again, nailing Harry with his most significant of stares.

“There is death down here, Potter. Never forget how close you came to casualty. I expect nothing but your inestimable conformity within this lab, am I clear?”

“I…Sir?” Harry blushed, looking up at the Professor hopelessly, brow skewed in puzzlement.

“I mean,” replied Snape. “Do as you are told.”

“Oh, yes, Sir.” Harry affirmed, nodding quickly.

Snape set Harry up at a low wooden bench, blemished from many hours of careful slicing, and the boy fumbled with the heavy apron the man had provided him, awkwardly attempting to knot the thick strings at his back before he felt the Professor’s slender fingers plucking the ties from his grasp and tightly fastening them into a strong bow. Snape then placed a small knife in front of Harry, along with a bowl filled with small, grey, spongy objects.

“What are these?” Harry asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “They look like rotten walnuts.”

“Frog brains.” Snape replied, setting an empty bowl next to the full one. “You’ll need to slice them thinly, lengthways, not width, and for Merlins sake, try not to injure yourself.

The two worked in silence, save for the crackling of the cauldron fires and gentle whispering of turning pages. Harry worked diligently, slicing bowl after bowl of slimy ingredients while Snape moved back and forth between potion book and cauldron, adding the freshly shredded ingredients, checking uniformity of colour and texture, and muttering enchanting spells to keep several spoons gently stirring their concoctions.

There were many times when Harry glanced over at the man, who was seemingly gliding across the room with his robes billowing around his feet, and smiled softly, remembering the comfort he had offered the night before, and being so grateful that Snape hadn’t said anything about it, for though it was exactly what he had needed at the time, there was a small shame about it now, a humiliation at being so accepting of the comfort, of needing it, of feeling worthy of it.

He had awoken early, warm and well rested under the thick blanket, and he’d stretched, suddenly becoming aware of the object in his hand, and he’d wrapped his fingers around it, feeling its softness before pushing away the clovers, revealing Snape’s hand, limp in sleep, long, slender fingers splayed against Harry’s palm. His eyes had trailed down the pale wrist, over the crumpled, black sleeve, coming to rest on the face of his Professor who was sleeping sitting on the floor, leaned against the bedside table, head lolled, managing to look a little menacing, and strangely dignified, even in the ungainly pose.

At first, Harry succumbed to the total fear of the Professor’s reaction once he woke, but after a moment he realized the man could have simply returned to his own room whenever he pleased, but instead held true to his promise, staying with Harry through the night. He’d smiled at the realization, then, when the Professor’s hand began to shift, he’d closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as Snape came too, and he’d eyed Harry before slowly withdrawing his hand, though he seemed to remain seated, as Harry didn’t recall hearing the man rise. Then Harry unwittingly fell asleep, waking to the raven’s cry several hours later.

A small pop pulled Harry from his thoughts, and there stood Della, bowing low and announcing lunch was served, waiting for her master’s dismissal before turning towards Harry, tilting her small head to one side as she regarded him with slightly narrowed eyes.

Harry slipped off his stool and walked over to the petite creature, cheeks flushing as he noticed her carriage. There was no bouncing, no animated squeaks; and her ears hung perfectly still, the tips trembling slightly as she righted her head to stare at the boy squarely.

“Della.” Harry started, fumbling with his stained fingers. He met the elf’s dusky blue eyes, and his own welled up in shame. “I’m really sorry, Della, that…that I lied to you.” he said, voice cracking with regret. “I really like you and you’re nice to me and you made me pudding and…and I hope you can forgive me.” Harry rushed, bowing his head, willing himself not to cry, and he saw Della’s tiny hands come into view, and she grasped one of his own, her stick-thin fingers gently stroking the back of his hand while the other tapped him on the arm, asking for his attention. He lifted his head a little, meeting her gaze, seeing the brightness of her smile, the slow, methodical stroking on his hand almost mesmerizing, and he suddenly felt a flood of happiness surge through him, and he couldn’t help but return Della’s beaming grin. She released her hold, and Harry felt the elation slowly seep out of him, like squeezing a wet dishcloth, leaving him feeling at ease, happy, and forgiven.

Giving the startled boy a wink, Della was gone, leaving Harry staring at the empty spot in front of him, mouth slightly agape.

“Neat.” he whispered, fingering the bank of his hand, still feeling Della’s cool fingertips against his skin.

“Enough of this ridiculous banality.” Snape huffed, rapping a spoon against the thick pewter cauldron. Harry turned quickly towards the sound, smiling at the obvious distaste the man had for displays of affection, but knowing that the Professor was not without his sensitive side, though it seemed Snape preferred to keep such displays private, even from Della.

After a barked instruction from the Professor, Harry cleared his work station as Snape murmured a few more spells towards the cauldrons, then, after a seemingly approving nod in Harry’s direction, the man pressed his wand against a pearled stone, and the vaporous doorway appeared again, leading them back to the second floor hall.

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Harry let out a hushed oh as a strong breeze attempted to make off with his napkin. He reached out and secured the large square of fabric before it left the table and stuffed it into his lap. It was warm out, but not overly so, and the wind had just picked up a little as the two wizards ate outside at a small, wrought iron table. Lunch was served by a doting Della, who had now forgiven any and all transgressions, and served Harry his cucumber sandwiches with a squeak and a gentle pat on the hand.

Conversation had been sparse, with Harry slightly anxious of any talk of his nightmares, and Snape well aware of the boy’s unease, for as casually as Harry attempted to act, his hands again revealed his fretfulness as he drummed his fingers between bites.

Severus had turned the discussion towards school, and when Harry had asked about the upcoming conference, the Professor was all too happy to accommodate the seemingly endless questions the boy had about his dissertation, though Severus was fully conscious of the fact that this was Harry’s way of keeping the topic of conversation away from himself. As far as they had come in the last few days, there was much the boy still needed to release.

“So you’re not even allowed to talk about it?” Harry asked, voice warbling around a mouthful of half chewed bread.

Severus narrowed his eyes in Harry’s direction before picking up the boy’s glass of milk and offering it to him with a commanding stare.

“It is not forbidden outright.” Snape replied as Harry sheepishly took a gulp of the white liquid. “It is, however, prohibited from being taught within an environment such as Hogwarts.” Severus’ eyes fell on the remaining half of Harry’s sandwich, giving the boy an approving nod as Harry carefully claimed the thick slices of bread and took a small bite this time, wary of the Professor’s wordless reprimands as he bit into a crisp slice of cucumber.

“But it’s just venom, isn’t it?” Harry asked after swallowing his mouthful. “We’ve learned about all sorts of poisons at school.”

“It isn’t as simple as that.” Snape explained. “Acramantula venom works unlike any toxin known in the wizarding world. There are those of us who have studied its chemical and biological properties for more years than I care to reveal, and it is only now that we are starting to understand its abilities. Within seconds it attacks the very structure of one’s DNA. The nucleotides it strikes are literally the source of energy for all living things, and within moments, every cell in your body ceases to function.” Snape paused, realizing that Harry was looking at him with a rather disturbing expression, his fingers digging into the soft bread of his sandwich with alarming force as he listened to the deadly effects of a poison that only the day before he had been on the verge of drinking.

Harry swallowed the gummy chunk of bread with much effort, and carefully returned the remainder of the meal to his plate.

“I’m not very hungry.” he murmured as he averted his eyes from the Professors, whose eyebrows were raised in concern at Harry’s sudden change of appetite.

“Harry, if there’s something bother –”

“So the conference is the first time anyone’s been allowed to talk about all the research then?” Harry said quickly, slipping off his chair and draining his glass of milk in a few gulps.

“Harry talking abo –”

“That must be a big deal for you.” the boy continued, placing the glass on the table and taking a few steps back with as much indifference as he could pretend to possess. Severus sighed, then rose and folded his napkin, placing it under his empty plate before joining Harry, who was now wandering towards the south end of the island.

“It is.” he replied as he approached the boy, slowing his strides to match Harry’s, who looked up at him quizzically.

“A big deal.” Snape reminded him, and Harry nodded.

“It is in fact,” Severus continued “an extreme honour to be chosen to present our findings. Ernie and I have collaborated for many years in anticipation of this very event.”

“Oh.” Harry said quietly. He walked onwards a few paces before realizing that the Professor had come to a stop, and he turned slowly to meet the man’s eyes, though he could only hold his gaze for a moment before staring intently down at the rustling grass.

Severus took a few steps towards the young wizard and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“There are still four days left before I would be required to leave.” he said softly. “If by that time I feel you still require my presence, I would not be opposed to remaining here.” He slowly moved his hand from Harry’s slender shoulder and pulled the boy’s lip from between his teeth where it was being held anxiously. He placed a few fingers underneath Harry’s chin and tilted his face upwards until he met the green eyes. “There are more important things than speeches, Harry.”

Harry managed a weak nod, his face flushing in shame at the thought of Snape missing such an important event due to his childishness. The man released him, and Harry turned quickly to look out towards the ocean, the breeze pulling at his hair, drying his moist eyes, and he felt the strong hand on his back, turning him towards to manor, and once again he allowed the gentle guidance, feeling small and silly, yet somewhat comforted by the action.

They were met at the front door by Della, who was wearing a small, white apron which was quite stained with what looked to be chocolate, and Severus couldn’t help but wonder if the little elf was cooking up another pudding for the boy. It was ridiculous in the extreme to fill a child with sweets, and he couldn’t help but glare in disapproval, causing Della to pause momentarily and wring her hands before speaking in a wary voice.

“Mister Russer is being asking if he is able to speak with Master this evening.” she squeaked as she wiped her hands against her torso, leaving a series of tiny, brown, prints. “Mister Russer is saying there is much for being prepared for Master’s trip.”

Severus made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, though he nodded at Della, quietly permitting Ernie’s visit. Della gave Harry a bright smile, and Snape watched as Harry followed the elf into the kitchen. Severus sighed. There was so much he needed to discuss with the boy, and even though trust had developed between them, it was still painfully obvious that Harry had a long way to go.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the stairs. He would need to prepare his work for Ernie to review that evening, as and he ascended the stairs, he couldn’t help but smile at the animated, excited chatter that suddenly emanated from the kitchen.

It must have been chocolate after all.

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When Ernie arrived some hours later, Severus was rather surprised to see two figures rather than the expected one, appear in the dusty fireplace.

“Ernie.” he said pleasantly, throwing the man an inquiring look, though the little man replied with a quiet smile rather than an explanation.

“And Craig.” Severus continued, offering his hand in welcome. “Good to see you again. Don’t tell me your brother is so lackluster a host that he feels it necessary to drag you along to every appointment?”

Craig responded with a laugh, and motioned towards Harry, who was in the corner of the living room, sitting cross-legged in a large armchair, quietly reading a book.

“Ernie said I should come with him; hang out with Harry while you two go over your speeches.” Craig replied, and Severus’ eyes darkened as he turned towards Ernie who was frantically shaking his head at his brother, freezing instantly as he noticed Snape’s eyes upon him.

“How incredibly thoughtful of you.” Snape said slowly, his voice lethal as he stared down at his friend. “What an extremely considerate action, Ernie, to be so concerned regarding Mr. Potter’s lack of companionship this evening.”

“Craig!” Ernie whispered loudly, waving his hand towards Harry. “Go and visit, hmm?” As Craig departed, Ernie reached out and took Snape’s hand, pulling gently.

“What is this?” Severus snapped, waving the other hand towards Craig as the small man led him to the other end of the living room.

“Shhh!” came the hushed reply, tiny hands waving frantically to indicate the desire for silence.

Snape sent a dark look spiraling towards Ernie, who gave an innocent shrug, his saffron eye gleaming as he regarded his friend, head slightly cocked to one side impishly.

“Oh Severus,” he whispered, grinning. “You watch; they’ll get on famously! Harry’s twelve, and Craig acts like he’s twelve. They’ll be best friends before the night is out, you’ll see.” Ernie clasped his hands together wistfully before breaking into giggles. He reached out and tugged on Snape’s sleeve, earning another infamous glower, and nodded towards the dinner table. “Let’s get to work, shall we? You have a speech to give in a few days!”

“I was under the impression you had come here to go over the final copy of our oration.” Severus said sardonically, as he reached the table. He pulled out a chair for Ernie, and waited for the tiny man to clamber up before seating himself. “And here I find you scheming, a celebrated talent for Dwarves I’m sure, however unsolicited as it may be in this case.”

Ernie’s smile faded, and the look of seriousness that swept over his face caught Severus slightly off guard.

“Severus.” Ernie started, running a hand through his bright white hair, sending it too and fro. The indigo sparkles in his eye darkened as he continued. “This symposium is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you, for us. Now,” he said quickly, his hands up in defense as Snape opened his mouth to retort. “I know the boy is special to you, but there’s nothing wrong with leaving him for a few days, is there? Though I paint him somewhat differently, Craig is a fine lad, and he’d take good care of Harry. I’m not saying you have to make any decisions right now, but I think if you just trust me, you’ll find Harry’s just fine to spend a few days here without you.”

Severus caught the angry comeback in his throat as Ernie continued his explanation. Perhaps he was being slightly overprotective. As long as Harry was emotionally stable enough to endure a night alone, surely two nights would be unproblematic, and there was still plenty of time to secure the boy’s comfort. He nodded towards his friend, appalled that he was so readily agreeing with, and allowing Ernie’s ruse. He searched himself, seeking out any feelings that might betray him, that might encourage him to leave Harry for Severus’ own gain rather than Harry’s best interest, but he was certain his desire to attend the convention in no way overshadowed his wish to help the boy.

“Honestly.” he snorted. “Bringing Craig along in the hopes he and Hary will bond, just so you don’t have to give the speech alone. How utterly asinine.” he finished; a hint of a smirk on his face.

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“Whatcha reading?” Craig asked, sitting down on the couch across from Harry, who looked up in surprise.

“Oh, um….hi” Harry replied, pausing for a moment before smiling in recognition. He held up the book and Craig leaned forward to read the worn, gold embossed lettering.

“Stick in the mud. A beginner’s guild to wand care.” Craig said under his breath as he read the title. “Hell.” he said, grinning playfully. “Sounds like a thrilling read.”

Harry broke into a smile, even managing a nervous laugh as he rested the book in his lap.

“Professor Snape gave it to me to read.” he explained quickly, not wanting Craig to think he was so incredibly boring as to read a wand care manual. “He’s got a library upstairs, but I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Oh I’ve seen it.” Craig replied. “I can show it to you, c’mon.”

“But…well shouldn’t we ask first?” Harry said nervously as Craig rose and began walking towards the door to the foyer. He shifted the book off his lap as he stood, and let it fall gently onto the chair, then, throwing a glance across the room at the Professor, who was busy shaking his head at an exasperated looking Ernie, he quickly followed Craig out of the room.

“Um...I’m not sure I’m allowed in there.” Harry warned as he climbed the stairs after the young man.

Craig stopped, his hand on the banister, and turned to look back at the boy.

“Did he say you couldn’t go in it?” he asked.

“Well, no.” Harry replied, his brow creasing in thought. “But I didn’t even know about it until he gave me that book today.”

“If he didn’t say you couldn’t go in, then you can go in.” Craig finished, smiling mischievously before continuing up the staircase.

Harry watched him go, not sure if he was making too big a deal out of the situation. It was true that Snape hadn’t told him not to go into the library, but he hadn’t even mentioned it before that afternoon, and if Harry was allowed inside, surely the Professor would have revealed its presence days ago, but then again they’d been busy, and Harry hadn’t exactly –”

“Kid!”

Losing his train of thought, Harry snapped his head up to see Craig’s face over edge of the floor above him.

“While we’re young, huh?”