Disclaimer: JK Rowling's characters.

Snape's Quarters, Hogwarts, May 1997 (18)

Snape always cut an impressive figure (and made firsties scatter) when stalking about the castle, dark-eyed expression fixed, signature robes rippling behind him, a menacing river of ink. As he made his way through the corridors after leaving the hospital wing, heads still turned-but not for the usual reasons.

Bookended by Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, both trailing him a bit, but keeping time with his steps, the man had an uncommonly self-satisfied air about him. To his left, Draco glided along, the picture of imperiousness with his pointy chin in the air, right eyebrow slightly cocked, black robes and whitish hair immaculate; to the man's right, Harry, unable to contain the cheeky upturn of his lips, bound along, steps as light as if he was walking on air, the words "Snape's all right," repeating in his head. That didn't keep the boy from camping out in the dungeons the rest of that week, driving the man a bit mad, however. It was the rare occasion that Draco didn't walk in to find Harry staring at Snape napping on the sofa.

"How long?" Draco said one evening, wanting to know how long Snape had been asleep and how long Harry had been sitting there staring, ‘like a ghoul'.

Harry risked a cursory glance at his watch, then recommenced his stake out of Snape's sleeping form. "Fifteen minutes, maybe."

"Well why don't you take a break? I'm here now."

"It's only been fifteen minutes, Malfoy."

"Right. If you've only been here fifteen minutes, I'm Muggleborn." Draco muttered as he eased into the chair opposite Harry after flinging his robes over the back of it and toeing off his shoes. "Go. Take a walk or something. Visit Granger."

"No." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and slumped down in his chair.

Draco sighed and laid his head back against his own chair, settling in, too.

*WO

Snape resumed his normal teaching schedule (against Pomfrey's orders), and continued to take part in the nightly training sessions (against Dumbledore's and McGonagall's orders). After nibbling at his dinner he would take to the sofa or his bed, shattered. Concerned, Harry approached the school nurse about the man's constant exhaustion. 

"You don't have to tell me what happened to him," Harry said, intercepting what he knew was going to be a pissy refusal of details about Snape's injuries, "but why is he still so tired all the time? It's been days!"

Over the past month the hospital ward had seen a steady stream of students injured during the training sessions. The influx kept Pomfrey hopping-even with the assistance of her newly appointed apprentices, Blaise, Neville, Terry Boot, and Hannah Abbott. But because Harry was so plainly worried about Snape, she did her best to curb the exasperation in her voice.

"Mr. Potter, you know better than anyone what Professor Snape went through last summer. To look at him, one would never believe the state he had been in, but his health will always be compromised because of that experience. He will never be quick to recover from any sort of attack to his system from here on out."

Unsurprisingly, her words drove Harry to keep an even closer eye on the man. If Snape sat listening to the Wireless in the evenings, Harry sat close by, either at Snape's feet, or beside him on the sofa. If Snape coughed, Harry was in the kitchen and back in a flash, a glass of flavored water (cranberry, Snape's favorite) in his hand. If Snape retreated to his room for a bit of privacy, Harry rapped his knuckles on the door every thirty minutes.

"Sir? Everything all right?"

"Yes, Harry," was Snape's inevitable response. When it became tinged with irritation (which Harry either didn't recognize or ignored), Draco approached Hermione.

"Granger, you've got to do something about Potter. He's driving me and the professor mental!"

Spending time with Harry had been a challenge since he and Snape had patched things up. And since Snape's stint in the hospital wing, the only time Hermione saw Harry was in class and at meals. She missed him.

After such a long, harsh winter, everyone was grateful when the weather took a friendly turn. Studying outside, picnicking, and impromptu matches of Quidditch fast became the norm. Even Order members shadowing the grounds' perimeter during their patrols didn't stunt the students' desire to be outside, thus Hermione judged it the perfect excuse for a bit of private time with Harry-as well as the chance to bring up how much he was smothering Snape.

"I really don't want to leave him," Harry said after leading her into his and Draco's room.

"I know, but he'll be perfectly fine, Harry. Draco's here should he need anything." She took his face in her hands and ghosted a thumb over his bottom lip. "I've been missing this over the past few weeks... Haven't you missed me?"

Harry groaned and pulled her to him. "You know I have." He whispered into her neck, making her cling more tightly to him.

"Then come outside with me for a bit." Hermione nipped at his neck; Harry growled.

"You'd better not be on my bed!" Draco's voice drifted down the hall.

They weren't on Draco's bed, but the fact that he was suggesting that they were doing more than talking was enough to ruin the moment. Hermione tempered her grin and loosened her grip so that she could lean back to see the scowl she knew would be on Harry's face.

"Damn dungeons!" He griped. "You could probably hear a tick piss if you listened hard enough!" He yanked a gray jumper off his bed and slipped it on before taking Hermione's hand. "Let's go."

Draco was lounging on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Snape lay on the sofa with his eyes closed, hands resting on his stomach, long stockinged feet hidden beneath a light throw.

"Hermione and I are going out for a bit." Harry announced. Snape's eyes opened-Harry could have sworn he saw a spark of relief there.

"You need a break from being cooped up in here every evening," the man said quietly. "Go on."

"But -"

"Potter, he'll be fine." Draco flapped his hand, motioning Harry to leave.

"We won't be long..." Harry said.

But Snape had already closed his eyes. Harry exhaled a shaky breath and followed when Hermione tugged on his hand. Once outside, they headed for the old oak along the shore of the Black Lake.

"Think he's glad to be rid of me?" Harry said, trying for a joking tone.

"Maybe a little..." Hermione smiled sadly, but there was a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"Nice." Harry snorted softly. "I just worry..."

"Of course. It's only natural. ...So, when are you moving back in?"

Harry grinned at her sly expression. "You and Malfoy been talking?"

"No." Hermione grinned back at him. "But, everybody's wondering."

"I know. I just... I'm scared."

"But Harry, Snape's not leaving the castle anymore. Nothing's going to happen to him."

"As long as Voldemort's alive, anything can happen to him, to any of us."

Hermione mentally kicked herself as she watched Harry step away to spread out the blanket she had brought along at the base of the oak tree. His lips had thinned into an almost indiscernible line and his hands were shaking.

"Harry, I wasn't trying to minim -"

Harry reached to grip her hands in his. "I know." He shot her a quick smile. "I thought we came out here to relax."

"Right," Hermione said, squeezing his hands lightly, "you're absolutely right." She waited for Harry to settle on the blanket, then took his hand when he extended it to help her down beside him.

"So, let's get to the relaxing bit..." He said with a lewd waggle of his brows. Hermione laughed as he eased her back so that he could cover her body with his. For several minutes, they exchanged slow, wet kisses and let hands wander freely, but when someone shouted, they jumped apart as if electrocuted.

"Potter!"

They sat up and twisted around to find Draco approaching. He was grinning slyly at their flushed faces, intertwined hands, and disheveled clothes.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled, annoyed. "What in hell are you playing at? Why aren't you with the professor?"

"Oh..." Draco sniffed, then looked down to investigate his cuticles. "Well, he suggested that I... get some air, too."

Hermione burst into laughter. "He probably cracked open a celebratory bottle of Ogden's and cranked up the Wireless as soon as the door clicked shut!"

"Quiet, you!" Harry said at the same time as Draco said, "Mind yourself, Granger!" making Hermione laugh even harder.

Draco crouched down beside them; Harry looked at him sideways.

"Er, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not at the moment, no. I do want to ask something of you, however."

"If it means you'll be pissing off soon, ask away." Harry muttered.

"Harry!" Hermione snorted and nudged him in the ribs.

"Well, what do want, then?" he said to Draco.

"For you to call off your attack dog. I nearly hexed him in the corridor."

Harry frowned. "When did Fang attack you?"

"Not that great mutt-Weasley!" Draco said. "He keeps trailing me about. It's obnoxious and... worrying."

Harry barked with laughter because Draco was not nearly as put out as he pretended to be. Ron did shadow Draco rather a lot, but only as much as Draco deliberately ventured into Ron's space.

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?" Harry said.

Draco shrugged then grinned mischievously. "Nothing. I can handle Weasley. I just wanted to interrupt the snogging session."

Harry's lip curled in aggravation. "You git!"

Hermione erupted into bright giggles, but they were cut oddly short when she grunted as if punched, then fell forward knocking Harry flat. She lay atop him unmoving.

"Hermione?" Harry fumbled to gather her face in his hands. Her brown eyes were open and sightless. Horrified and confused, Harry struggled from underneath her. Getting to his knees, he rolled her onto her side, then began to run his hands up and down her body, checking for blood or irregular lumps signaling broken bones.

Draco was on his feet facing the lake, gray eyes squinting at the forest's dark interior; Harry followed his gaze. The sun, which had seemed so reluctant to set earlier, was now fading as rapidly as ink in a rainstorm. The swelling darkness highlighted several small white shapes floating unnaturally along the forest's edge.

Death Eaters - at least ten that Harry could discern.

Draco shouted, "Stupefy!" firing the spell into the canopy across the lake's vast expanse. Though there was no hope of it making contact he did it again, the odd salvo letting those in the forest know that he and Harry wouldn't be sitting ducks. They would fight.

"Is she breathing?" Draco yelled.

Harry wrenched Hermione's jacket open. He swallowed a watery ball of relief when her white jumper moved up and down in a regular rhythm.

"Yeah..."

"Then let's go! ...Oh, bloody fucking hell!" Draco quickly cast a defensive shield against the sudden flurry of incoming curses and spells, then he spun to aim his wand toward the castle, shouting: "Siolfor et ghel!"

Silver and gold intertwined to create a comet of sparks overhead-a distress signal, specific to Draco and Harry. Back in February, after the attack in Hogsmeade, Snape had demanded they learn it.

Harry grasped Hermione under her left armpit; Draco turned back to grab her under her right one. "Hurry!" He cried, but just as they started to move, he collapsed, felled by a curse that had ripped through his shield. Hermione and Harry sank with him, dragged down by his momentum.

"Draco!" Harry screamed. Groaning, the blond clutched his leg. Harry gasped when the boy's hand came away bloody. Harry whipped about to face the forest. After pinpointing where the white shapes were he thrust his right fist outward in a haphazard punch. "Stupefy!" He yelled, hoping his spell hit some of them. Luckily, screams erupted and the airborne flashes of light that had been directed toward the three teens flew upward to become harmless fireworks lightening the darkening sky.

Harry rounded on Draco. "You're bleeding!"

"I'll be all right!" Draco snarled, trying, and failing to stand.

Denying the boy the opportunity to protest, Harry reached over and laid a hand on his leg. Draco hiccoughed in surprise at the odd tingle of warmth and dissipation of pain, which faded to nothing in seconds. When Harry pulled his hand away, Draco looked down to inspect the wound. His flesh was unmarred. He looked over at Harry, wide-eyed, but Harry was busy, struggling to pick Hermione up in his arms. Draco punched him on the shoulder.

"Don't be stupid! Let me help!"

They each grabbed one of her arms. After slinging them over their shoulders, they began to stumble across the lawns as quickly as they could. Relief flooded Harry as they drew closer to the castle, but when flashes of light erupted just steps away from them, he and Draco shrieked. They fell back several terrified steps as bodies began to materialize around them out of the oppressive dark.

"HARRY! DRACO! GET DOWN!"

Like a shot, the boys dropped to the ground, Hermione a boneless heap between them. They lay there as what sounded like an army of feet pounded past them in a fury, familiar voices barking out orders. Then, someone was kneeling next to them.

"Are you all right?"

Snape.

Draco, breathing harshly, nodded; Harry choked out, "Hermione! She got hit with something..."

Snape's eyes came to rest on the unconscious girl just as Professor McGonagall arrived.

"Severus?"

"Minerva, the Granger girl has been hurt."

"Merlin!"

"Harry, let her go so that we can bring her to the hospital wing." When Harry hesitated, Snape's tone turned sharp: "Harry we must get you all inside, now let her go!"

When Harry was still slow to move, McGonagall jostled him aside as she conjured a stretcher. On his knees, Harry watched her movements closely. Once Hermione was secured, the deputy headmistress began racing back to the castle, Hermione floating out beside her.

"Follow her and do not think to disobey me!" Snape said as Harry and Draco got to their feet.

"You're coming with us... right?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer.

"No. I must help the others." Having mentally shifted focus to the fight ahead, Snape's voice had lost some of its earlier edge of anxiety.

Harry's stomach twisted in on itself as he looked out toward the forest at the multi-colored pulses of light flashing furiously back and forth. He didn't know who among the teachers had joined the fight, but he knew he didn't want Snape to be one of them. One brush with death a week was quite enough, thank you.

"Why do you have to go?" He demanded, green eyes flashing.

"Potter, come on." Draco tugged at Harry's sleeve; he knew from Snape's expression that nothing would stop him joining the other teachers.

"No!" Harry wrenched his arm away. "You go ahead if you're so anxious to leave, because I'm willing to bet your father is one of the murdering psychos down there!"

Draco paled so quickly, his skin looked translucent.

"HARRY!" Snape roared. He marched up to the boy, getting right in his face. "Both of you... Up to the castle! Now, Harry!"

Harry scowled, feeling distinctly defiant and unhappy. He then rooted his feet to watch Snape running toward the fight. When Snape stopped to see how far the boys had progressed, Harry, at Draco's light touch, reluctantly turned started toward the castle. Snape watched until they reached the steps, then he turned and melted into the darkness.

*WO

Entering the castle, Draco and Harry were met by a hysterical crush of students.

"Are there really Death Eaters on the grounds?"

"Someone said a girl was killed!"

Harry itched to smack whoever had said that.

"What in bloody hell's going on?"

Harry perked up at the sound of Ron's baritone. Searching the crowd, he nearly collapsed once he laid eyes on the redhead. "Ron!"

Spotting Harry, Ron bulldozed his way through the throng. "What's happened? Where's Hermione?"

Harry grabbed his arm and swiftly directed him away from the crowd and up the stairs.

"Harry, what -" Ron began.

"Hermione and I were sitting by the lake talking to Malfoy, and next thing I know she's on top of me, knocked out by a spell or curse -"

"Blimey! She all right, then?"

"Dunno yet... McGonagall brought her up here," Harry said, just as they arrived outside the hospital wing's entrance.

"And, Malfoy?" Ron growled. "What the hell was he doing out there?"

"You're the sour little twit, aren't you?" Draco said coldly, startling the Gryffindors. Harry had forgotten about him in the relief of seeing Ron.

"Malfoy," he said, jamming his hands into his pockets. "I... What I said out there. It was stupid."

"What else is new, Potter? If I had a Galleon for every time something moronic came out of your mouth, the inheritance from my mother would look paltry by comparison."

Harry knew he deserved the barb, but couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, he's not my father," Draco said. "And, you're likely right. Lucius was never one for wand-to-wand combat, preferring to strike from a distance. More strategic, than cowardly, he would say..."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just worried..."

"He'll be all right. He will."

Every time Draco uttered those words, trying to comfort Harry, the Gryffindor could never escape the fact that Draco always sounded as if he was trying just as hard to convince himself.

"Hermione and I were lucky you were there," Harry said. "We couldn't have made it back without you."

Draco shot him an odd look. "You'd have managed." He looked down at his damaged trousers, then back up at Harry. "You could have told me."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't trust you."

"Clearly," Draco said, expression flattening, as if he was switching off.

Damnable Gryffindor honesty. Wanting to ease the sting of his words, Harry said: "I've only ever done it twice before, once by accident, so it's not something I do all the time. It's... weird."

Draco frowned. "It is not weird." When Harry opened his mouth to respond, Draco pitched his chin toward the hospital wing. "Go. Check on Granger." He turned to leave.

"We should probably wait here for him." Harry called. Draco stopped and turned back around.

"Are you mad?" Ron growled. "Let him bog off! I'm sure Zabini's having kittens right about now."

Draco's hands curled into fists. "I'm so tired of this... Stop taking your issues out on me, Weasley!"

Ron paled, looking as if he had just licked a toad's belly. "Issues? Issues! What in bloody hell are you talkin' about?" He edged forward, but Harry moved to block him.

"Can't you two do this later?" he said.

"No!" Ron surged forward, again, blue eyes blazing.

"Damn it, Ron!" Harry yelled. "Leave off!"

Gritting his teeth, Ron stopped moving. Glaring at Draco, he said, "What in hell was either of you doing out there anyway? You know the school is under surveillance! You know we could be attacked any time!"

"Worried about me, Weasley?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest, but Harry saw the Slytherin's right hand resting just beneath his left arm, positioned to draw his wand if necessary.

"You go to hell!" Ron shouted, then lunged at Draco.

"Ron!" Harry threw himself at his friend, clutching him about the waist. He bent his knees and planted his feet as if to throw Ron to the floor for a match of Muggle wrestling, but Ron was bigger than Harry and strong, so as the redhead pushed forward, Harry only succeeded in sliding back, his trainers providing all the gripping traction of a pair of Muggle skates.

Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of the ward's door and hissed: "Be quiet this instant!"

Ron and Harry spun around to see her face bloated with anger, but then her eyes widened in horror. Harry let go of Ron and turned to see Charlie and Snape running up the corridor, Professor Sprout floating between them.

"Stop waffling about! Move on!" said Pomfrey, shooing Ron, Draco, and Harry clear of the ward's entrance. "What happened?" she asked, as Charlie began directing Sprout through the doors. He paused to take in Harry's flushed face, and Ron's furious one.

"Mr. Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey snapped. Ron and Charlie turned to her. "Professor Sprout?" she said, her sharp eyes pinning Charlie where he stood.

"Oh-right," Charlie said, flustered. "Yeah, um, I saw her go down. She was hit on her left side when she..." His voice trailed off as Madam Pomfrey ushered him through the doors which swept closed behind him. Before they did, he cast a curious glance back at his brother.

The instant Snape came to a stop, Harry went to him. With a firm grip on the boy's shoulders, Snape held him at arm's length, looking him up and down, hunting for a hint of injury.

"You little fools!" He growled and pulled Harry to him. Harry fell against the man, clinging to him in a fierce embrace. After a time, Snape leaned back, dark eyes shimmering. He looked down into Harry's face, jaw working, unable to find his voice.

"I'm all right," Harry said. He put a hand over Snape's heart to reassure the man as well as himself that it was true. Then he whispered, "I'm so sorry... ‘bout everything -"

"Hush." Snape clutched Harry to him once again, resting his cheek against the boy's hair. After a moment he relaxed his grip. He turned his head, searching. "Draco?"

"I'm fine," Draco said, relief palpable as he walked to join them. "What happened after we left?"

Before answering, Snape gave Draco the same once over Harry had received. His eyes widened when they landed on the gash in Draco's trousers.

"Potter," the boy muttered. Snape nodded curtly and continued his examination. When he seemed satisfied, he ran a hand over Draco's head, making the boy blush and glare. Draco never minded having the back of his head caressed gently, but unlike Harry, he hated having his hair mussed like a puppy.

"We can discuss what happened later," Snape said. "Has Madam Pomfrey looked you two over?"

"No, but I want to see Hermione first," said Harry, certain Snape would not be truly satisfied that he and Draco were all right for a while yet as the man had drawn Draco to him with his other arm. Draco had stopped glaring, Harry noted.

"Come." Snape released them and started for the hospital wing entrance. He breezed past Ron to hold the door open. After Draco and Harry passed through, he kept it open, eyeing Ron expectantly; Ron's blue eyes widened in disbelief.

"As I don't normally count doorman as a part of my teaching duties, you have until the count of three, Mr. Weasley."

Ron blinked and cleared his throat before striding past Snape. "Thanks," he muttered, reddening under the man's gaze. Snape nodded stiffly in response and followed. He paused at the foot of Hermione's bed.

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled tiredly. "Fantastic, thanks to my two heroes here."

Snape offered up another small nod, then joined Charlie and Madam Pomfrey at Professor Sprout's bedside. Harry grasped Hermione's hand in his. Ron, on the opposite side, did the same while Draco stood at her feet.

"Is everyone all right?" she asked, grimacing as she shifted, in search of a more comfortable position.

"Sprout's the only casualty on our side, it seems," Harry said. "Dunno about Voldemort's people." His eyes wandered over to Snape.

"...And you and the professor?" Hermione said softly, following his gaze.

Snape was nodding at whatever Madam Pomfrey was saying, but his eyes were on Harry.

"We'll be fine," Harry said.

*WO

Snape's Quarters, Hogwarts, June 1997 (01)

Following what was supposed to have been a leisurely Gryffindor scrimmage to close out the Quidditch season (and celebrate winning the Quidditch Cup), Harry parted with the team, desperate for a hot shower and his own personal buffet. As soon as he opened the door, the mouth-watering smell of roast beef assaulted him, making his stomach grumble loudly. He limped down the hall and stuck his head into the kitchen to find Draco setting the table. Harry cocked an eyebrow, surprised and amused.

"Dobby busy, then?"

Draco looked up, face contorting with disgust at Harry's appearance. "He will be once you've mucked up the bathroom!"

"Yeah, well, s'what happens when you fall off your broom tryin' to dodge a Bludger..." Harry inched toward the table, grime infested fingers trained on the basket of aromatic bread rolls. In a flash, Draco snatched the basket out of reach.

"Touch anything before you wash, and die, Potter!"

"Harry?" Snape rounded the corner to see Harry grinning like a mischievous puppy and Draco scowling like an old maid, arms spread out to protect the table's bounty. "Draco?"

"Potter tried to touch the food!"

"I just wanted a roll to tide me over before I shower!" Harry protested, laughing.

"Draco's right," Snape said, wrinkling his large nose at the filthy dark haired boy. "Go get cleaned up."

Harry laughed, again. "Slytherins."

"You're limping..." Snape called as Harry made his way to the bathroom.

"Fell off my broom!" Harry called back. Then giving a quick check of the hallway before closing the bathroom door, he crooked his finger in a come-here fashion.

"POTTER!" Draco roared as a roll wriggled free from the basket and zipped out of the kitchen.

Following a shower so hasty Draco swore it could not have possibly involved water touching skin, Harry re-entered the kitchen, Fang padding in beside him. Harry directed a finger at the boarhound's dishes, filling them, then took his seat as Snape began piling food onto the boys' plates.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking his plate from the man. Snape nodded, then proceeded to fill Draco's.

"Thank you," said Draco.

When Snape had filled his own plate, they began to eat.

*WO

That evening the Wireless droned quietly in the background as Snape sat hunched at his desk, quill dashing across a sheet of parchment. Draco lay sprawled atop the sofa, his Ancient Runes book open and hovering inches above his chest, pages turning intermittently at his prompting. Harry occupied the floor, his back against the sofa, half his Transfiguration book on his lap, the other half propped up on Fang who lay next to him. Yawning, the boy finally closed the book after reading the same sentence seven times. He startled when Draco knocked a heel against his shoulder.

"Reach me that quill, please," the Slytherin said. Wordlessly, Harry scooped up the quill lying on the coffee table and tossed it to Draco. "Thank you."

"I'm goin' to bed." Harry announced, with a bone-popping stretch.

"‘Night," Draco mumbled, lazily turning a page in his book and making a note on his parchment.

When Harry got up, Fang rose to go plunk down next to Snape's feet. Snape watched the boy as he passed. Harry was still favoring his left leg.

"Once you're settled, I'll apply some liniment to your knee," he said.

"M'kay..." Harry yawned again.

*WO

Hours later, Harry felt a weight too light to be Fang and too heavy to be Draco settle on his bed. He cracked his eyelids open. Buttery light from the hall sconces spilled in through the doorway highlighting Snape's dark glittering eyes perfectly. The same reflecting light lit up Harry's concerned green ones as he opened them fully, startling the man. Harry pointed at the wall and the torch light next to his bed brightened, lighting up Snape's form.

"S' wrong?" He croaked.

"Nothing," Snape said softly. He reached to smooth Harry's hair back. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest when the stubborn strands refused to lie flat.

Harry cleared his throat and shifted to put on his glasses. "You sure?"

Snape cocked his head. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem... scared."

"Oh?" Snape brought his hand down to rest on Harry's chest.

The boy shrugged. "Doesn't help that it's after three in the morning and you're sitting on my bed, and... well, watching me sleep."

Snape snorted softly, then nodded. "Of course. It's just, the thought of you leaving -"

"Leaving?" Harry frowned.

"Yes." Snape whispered.

Harry covered Snape's hand with his hands. "You'd have to chuck me out. And even then, I'd come back."

"Oh?"

"I'd have to. In a couple years, once you've started drooling and using a staff, you'll need someone to look after you."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Charming image, that."

Harry grinned and tucked his arms behind his head, but the grin faded a bit as he watched Snape pull his covers up from the bunched up mess at his hips to cover his chest. The dark rings around the man's eyes stood out sharply against his sallow complexion.

"You've not been to sleep at all, have you?" Harry said.

"I've rather a lot on my mind. Term is winding down, which means I have N.E.W.T.s to oversee week after next, and some O.W.L.s as no one from the Wizarding Examinations Authority will be able to attend them."

"But it's more than that. I saw you, Dedalus Diggle, and McGonagall earlier. He's always jittery, but he seemed even more so than normal."

"We were discussing the school drills and whether they needed adjusting for these last weeks." Snape's hand was in Harry's hair, again, trying to coax the boy back to sleep. But Harry was having none of it. He locked gazes with Snape.

"That's really all it was?"

"Yes."

"It's just... I know you think the lakeside attack was Voldemort's way of testing us."

"It was. I know how he works-though he did have a bit of unsuspecting help that night."

"Yeah... Mundungus hasn't been around since then, but he's always been rather dodgy, hasn't he? Off minding things he shouldn't be?"

"Short answer? Yes. At any rate, he's been relegated to the Glass Hoof so that Oswin and Aberforth can keep an eye on him. Dumbledore won't allow him back on the grounds or in the castle."

"Dumbledore, he seems more worried, too. He's never -"

"Hush. Enough talk. You need to sleep."

"As do I!" Draco's irritated tenor floated over. "Merlin!"

Harry laughed when Snape hitched a brow in Draco's direction. "Well, you're awake now," Harry said. "May as well join the discourse."

"‘Discourse?'" Draco snorted, then turned over to face the two dark haired wizards. "Has Granger been reading to you from the dictionary, again?"

"Mm." Harry nodded. "She even let me look at some of the pictures. Funnily enough, your image can be found next ‘arsehole', ‘wanker', and ‘tosser'. That's got to be some kind of record. I don't even think the devil is mentioned that much."

"Potter, if your idea of insults wasn't so abjectly amateurish, I might be offended, but as it stands, I can only feel a low level of pity."

"Can you feel this?" Harry began wiggling his fingers as if he was typing. Draco had only a second to look mortified before he began to shriek and thrash about helplessly on his bed, tormented by what felt like ten thousand invisible fingers.

"Potter! S-stop! STOP IT!" Draco gasped, then let out an undignified hoot of laughter when his right armpit was attacked.

"Take it baaack," Harry sang, letting up, but not stopping.

"Take w-what back?"

"You insulted my insults."

"Why you knobby-kneed, nest-haired -" Draco lost his breath when Harry focused on his sides.

"Knobby-kneed, eh?" Harry moved his fingers faster. "You know my knees are off limits."

"POTTER!" Draco curled into a ball, clutching his stomach. "You cr-cretin!"

Snape gently enclosed Harry's hands in his, stopping the flow of magic. Miffed, Harry looked up at the man.

"You know you're going to pay for that, don't you?" Draco glared at Harry while wiping his streaming eyes.

"You know you're going to pay for that?" Harry mocked Draco's posh accent. "You just better be glad Dad was here." He muttered, still scowling his displeasure that Snape had stopped his fun. But, Snape froze, wearing that same petrified expression he'd had after the water bottle throwing incident.

Realizing what he'd let slip, Harry's eyes widened as they met Snape's. "You don't mind if I call you that... do you?"

"I - I've no right to expect that you'd want to." Snape replied, lips barely moving.

Harry's lips slowly curled into a teasing grin. "So, in other words... you don't mind?"

Snape growled. "Why you wretched little ingrate..."

Fang, who had been lying in the middle of the room, got up to flop down next to Draco's bed. He looked up at the boy, barked, then made a whining noise as he bobbed his head up and down, demanding it be scratched. Flabbergasted, Harry watched Draco extend a pale hand over the side of his bed to do the dog's bidding. Just last week the boy would have kicked at Fang and cursed him a ‘filthy beast', but as ever, things had changed.

Two and a half weeks ago, during the Slytherin/Ravenclaw Quidditch match, some Slytherin spectators-Vincent Crabbe and Milicent Bulstrode in particular-took to heckling Draco, screaming laughably uninspired insults: ‘Draco Potter! What a tosser! Draco Snape! What an ape!'

"Classy," Harry had muttered, but when Draco performed a flawless Sloth Grip Roll to narrowly avoid being smashed by a Bludger, Harry had made a perfect spectacle of himself-jumping, pumping his fists, and screaming like a lunatic; he wasn't alone, though. Hermione, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Neville, Aberforth, and a stocky fifth-year Slytherin named Hank McCoy threw in as well. Harry had pointedly glanced over his shoulder to see Crabbe looking murderous.

After the match (Slytherin 420, Ravenclaw 110) Harry, Snape, Draco and Fang, joined by the rest of Draco's supporters, left the pitch for the castle. Draco, exaggerating in glowing detail his move to capture the Snitch, went flying into Ron's arms when Crabbe banged into him.

"Outta my way, filthy slag!" the boy snarled as he charged past.

Fang, lumbering specimen that he normally is, reacted so fast, no one was clear on what had happened until they saw Crabbe face down on the ground, the boarhound crouched on his back with little room to spare between his dagger-sharp teeth and Crabbe's reddened, fatty neck.

"Get it off me!" Crabbe screeched, flailing about in an ironic imitation of a speared crab.

Snape snagged the dog's collar, then voiced a low command. In an instant Fang moved to stand in front of Draco, his great velvety head held low, poised for action should Crabbe try anything else. Stunned (and still in Ron's arms), Draco watched Snape help Crabbe up. The blubbering boy stumbled away, vowing a painful revenge, but thereafter, Fang had taken to following Draco to classes the boy did not share with Harry. Scowling and pleading aggravation Draco had ordered Snape to call the dog off, but the man had denied coaching Fang to follow him around. Days passed, and Draco began to suffer the dog's presence more and more.

Now Harry looked between the Slytherin and the boarhound feeling as though he had been forcefully spirited into another dimension. The tranquil justness of the scene amazed him, left him speechless.

Draco caught him staring and frowned. "Potter?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You all right? For a moment there your gaze appeared emptier than normal-if that's possible."

"Shut it, you pencil necked - Oh, just shut it! I was just remembering why you're being nice to Fang all of a sudden."

Draco shrugged. "It's not that sudden. I just decided it's not exactly... horrible to have him around." The dog barked his agreement.

"And his attacking Goyle after the match had absolutely nothing to do with it, eh?" Harry teased.

"Not really," Draco said quietly. "Actually... Ever since the night we were attacked at the lake..." Draco stopped then began again. "When I saw your face," he said, eyes on Snape now, "and how frantic you were, I had a completely selfish thought - Not a bloody word, Potter! - I thought, he'll never look at me like that, the way he looks at Harry. But, then you did."

"Of course, I was equally concerned for you both." Snape frowned and waved a hand dismissively.

"Yes," Draco said, sounding inexplicably perturbed, "but I thought it was only because you were my Head of House. Same goes for the mutt here. I thought he was only friendly when Potter was around, but when you moved out, he would try to get me to rub his belly or scratch his back... As hateful as I've been to him, he would have absolutely mauled Crabbe that day." He looked up at Harry. "I've never said, but I saw you making an utter fool of yourself in the stands for me."

"Cheering for you, I was cheering for you, big difference from making a fool of myself... I think."

"Anyway." Draco scowled at being interrupted. "Everything just seemed to come round on itself then, and... after what happened to Mother, I... I never thought I'd want to be part of a family again."

"Oh!" Harry gasped, as a click echoed in his head. The other two wizards looked at him, curious. He shook his head. "It's nothing." A pale and dark eyebrow, each, went up in disbelief. "I just... I just realized something, is all..."

Draco hitched both eyebrows, a wordless demand to speak.

"No matter what happens..." Harry said. "I'm glad to have had this."

After a moment, Draco lowered his eyes to look at the gently snoring boarhound beside him. "Me, too."

It was whispered as softly as the beat of a butterfly's wings, but everybody heard it.

*WO