Harry really didn't give a damn. As he strutted away out of the alley and pushed past other people on the sidewalk, he just didn't care. He also thought he understood the truth of the Odd Room; it was pure cruelty. The memory of James Potter that had manifested in that room was nothing more than his own hopes and dreams. A painful reminder of what he'd never have. He also realized that if Snape had given up then it truly meant they'd never be returning home to their own time.

He'd lose everyone that mattered to him. Of course his destiny preyed upon his mind and certainly he'd wished, one time too many, that he could just run away from it all. He'd gotten that wish, in spades! He'd run away. And now, everyone he loved was going to die. Voldemort would win and the Lucius Malfoys of the wizarding world would finally get their presumptious, prejudicial way.

Why couldn't Snape see this? Why did Snape have to keep on ordering them about as though they were just simple-minded students? Didn't he understand that this was it? They were stuck here and they'd have to live here... with HIM! Harry wasn't going to let that happen. Not with him. He wasn't going to deal with Snape and that was all there was to it. The man hated him and Harry certainly had no fondness for him. Maybe if he just kept walking until he was in Muggle London, then nobody would have to deal with him anymore. Most of all that big, greasy, bat-head!

Behind him Ron and Hermione were arguing, but he wasn't listening. He wasn't aware when Hermione left them to go and check on their professor. "What do I even want to go home for?" Harry whirled on Ron with the vehement question just as Ron caught up with him. The startled red head took a wary step backward from Harry.

"What?"

"Look at this place, Ron! It's beautiful and you know what, there's no He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lurking around the next corner trying to kill me and my friends!" Harry stepped closer to Ron, who only took another step back. People on the street were starting to look at them, but did their best to avoid the angry youngster.

"Now Snape wants to finish the job, doesn't he? He just can't keep his self-righteous, snarky remarks to himself! He just can't do anything to show... he doesn't give a damn about us!"

"Hey!" shouted Ron. He wasn't following this one-sided conversation well, and as patient as he liked to think he was, he was getting very tired of being shouted at when he'd done nothing wrong. He stepped forward right into Harry's face and hoped he wouldn't have to slap him, like you did with hysterics. "Will you just back off and soak you're head, Harry?"

"Ron?" Harry blinked as his eyes focused on his friend.

"Yeah, me, Ron. Not that git Snape. What're you on about?" Ron grabbed Harry by the sleeve and moved out of the way of the main walking traffic. Just a few feet away were a couple of benches and they sat down.

Harry sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Everyone wants to go back home, Ron, and I've just been going along with everyone, but why? I know there's destiny and all that, but from the moment I got my letter from Hogwarts that I was a wizard, I've been fighting against... HIM. When am I going to just get to be me, Harry Potter, just a kid? Why can't I have a life with my godfather? Everywhere I look someone's either trying to kill me, or hurt my friends. Why should I want to go back?"

Ron frowned, stuck his hand in his pocket and took out a chocolate frog. Breaking it in half, he gave a piece to Harry. "If I were you, I wouldn't want to go back. So, if there is a way home, why not stay?"

Harry gave Ron a wan smile. Ron rarely considered the shades of grey in a problem. Like the chess he was so good at, for him it was either black or white. Choose your side and play to win. That was Ron. Harry placed his glasses back on his nose. "It's a little more complicated than that, Ron. Like it or not I'm a part of the war against Vol... HIM. I sound like a right arrogant Slytherin saying this, but Dumbledore keeps telling me that I'm needed. That the wizarding world won't be free if I'm not there to destroy Voldemort."

It was Ron's turn to shoot Harry an angered glare. "And who says that old man is right, Harry? Look, I remember all the stories I heard about you and your parents before we met. I thought you'd be this fully grown guy in purple robes all set to bring He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named down with one Unforgivable Curse. Thing is, though, you're no different than I am. You're a kid, Harry. I'm not saying you can't take HIM down because honestly, I think you can. But, if the day comes, you're not going to be fighting that snake alone. We're going to be with you."

Harry sighed. "I don't know what to do anymore, Ron."

"Look at me, mate. Am I worried about all of this?" Harry hadn't realized it, but of the four of them, Ron did seem to be taking this whole situation a lot better than anyone else was. Harry shook his head and Ron continued. "That's right, I'm not worried. Sure, I miss mum and dad and my family, and I hate thinking about them facing Death Eaters without me around, but I have to do what needs to be done here. If this is where my life is going to play out, then I'm going to do what my parents always expected of me; to live it the best way I know how." Ron popped the last of the chocolate into his mouth.

Harry just stared at Ron for a minute. He'd always thought highly of Ron; he was his best friend, after all. He also thought he knew everything there was to know about the youngest boy in the Weasely clan. He was mistaken, it seemed, and never was he more happy to be mistaken. Maybe Fate had played a role in the death of his parents and in providing Voldemort as his mortal enemy, but Fate had given him two strong friends, Ron, and the very intelligent, Hermione.

"Harry?" said Ron and Harry focused on Ron again. "All that you said about Snape?"

"Yeah, so?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably. For the first time he acknowledged to himself the hate his friend had for Snape. Ron understood some of it. It wasn't fair of Snape to continually compare Harry to a father he'd never known. He also knew that Harry had a talent for setting Snape off. A talent Harry needed to stop. "Look, mate, I'm not saying you have to fall at his feet and worship him, but you need to get a grip." Harry started to say something, but Ron held up his hand. "I don't care all that much for Snape, either, Harry. But, you've told me before that Dumbledore trusts him and we know he's saved you. I mean, c'mon! If Snape wanted you dead, he could have poisoned you a thousand times by now!"

"Maybe he wants to torture me to death," growled Harry, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

"Yeah, right!" Ron huffed. "Snape lives just to make your life miserable! It's all about you, isn't it?"

That stung and Harry stared unbelievingly at his friend. "I never said that." Harry's voice was almost like a whisper.

"No you didn't, but you really do act like it sometimes, and... well, it's annoying. If it were just you and Snape here, fine. The two of you could just hex each other to death and get it over with. But, Hermione's here, I am, and even Malfoy is. We're as stuck as you are. We're as scared as you are, too."

"I'm not scared."

"Yes you are, Harry. I know, right now, you're worried about Sirius, about McGonagall and Dumbledore. I'm worried about my parents, Ginny and my brothers. Even Percy. I hate to say it, Harry, but we've got Snape. He's not all warm and cuddly like Dumbledore is, but he is taking care of us. Get that through your thick skull before you go and do something you'll regret."

Harry sat back on the bench, kicking his feet against the sidewalk. He hated to admit it to himself, but Ron was right. About everything. It just didn't seem to change much, though, and he didn't know how to voice that to Ron. Even if Snape didn't hate him, Harry knew he hated Snape. He hated that he had to rely upon him and he hated that he was stuck here with him.

When a few minutes went by and it looked like Harry intended to stay silent, Ron punched his shoulder lightly. "Harry, maybe you could just call it a truce for now? Just give him a break."

Harry sighed heavily and released his arms from the tight grip they had over his chest. Would it really kill me, he thought resignedly. "All right, Ron. A truce it is, I guess." Ron grinned, but stopped as soon as he realized Harry wasn't looking at him, but over his shoulder.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, nudged Ron, and pointed to the pair that were walking down the street.

Ron's mouth dropped open as Hermione, her hand neatly in Snape's approached them. As soon as she caught sight of them, she let go of Snape's hand, ran over to Harry and gave him a big hug.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah, 'Mione," he spoke softly and glanced warily up at Snape. "I'm really sorry for shouting at you, Hermione."

She smiled at him, that smile that could forgive anyone and anything. "It's all right, Harry. We're all stressed out."

He smiled his thanks back and then his gaze made its way over to Snape. Snape moved closer to the trio and Harry couldn't help but shrink away. He was pretty certain he was going to get zapped by a killing curse and it would probably hurt. A lot.

"Mr... Ronald," Snape addressed the young Weasely. Ron's mouth gaped open at hearing his professor say his first name. "Please tuck your tongue back into your mouth and then escort Hermione to Grizelda's Treat Shop, over that way." He pulled out his purse and removed a couple of coins and gave them to Ron. "Buy something for all of us, if you would? Harry and I shall be along shortly."

Ron grabbed the coins and stuffed them into his pocket. "Uhm, yes sir." He turned abruptly, grabbed Hermione's arm, and they both trotted on down the street. Snape watched after them quietly.

The silence was unbearable to Harry and so he plucked up his courage to speak. "Professor Snape, sir, I..." Snape turned to look down at him and his voice froze in his throat.

For a long moment he stared. This was really going to be hard, if not impossible. Harry Potter was more than an irritant; he was the son of a man he had despised. Harry's misfortune was to look like James Potter and to behave so much like him. However, Snape did not believe that the sins of the father were the sins of the son. As a teacher, as a protector of the Boy-Who-Lived, it was better for the boy to have no affection for him. At least that's what he'd told himself for the last three years. It was possible for him to be wrong, wasn't it? Snape slowly seated himself beside Harry.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "You're not going to cruciatus curse me, Sir?"

Snape scowled and let out a sharp exhalation. "This is not the moment to try my patience, Potter." Harry relaxed slightly as Snape used his last name. Something felt more right about that.

"Sorry, Sir." Harry felt he should say more, he just didn't know what to say. He decided to opt for silence.

Noting the change in Harry's body language when he'd called him Potter, he continued to do so. "Potter, I hated... no, despised your father. I have persisted in allowing you the impression that my hatred extended toward you for being his son, because it is... was a necessary evil. My past associations did not permit it." Snape did not mention that in playing the loyal servant to Voldemort, neither of them could afford it. "I have never held hatred for you, though." Harry had crossed his arms tightly over his chest. He wasn't getting through to the boy. "I don't expect you to hold any affection for me, now, or later. Nor do I expect my feelings to change for you. I find you to be irritating, willful, hard-headed; in short, a Gryffindor."

Harry snorted. Snape rolled his eyes, leaned back until his back was against the wall behind them, and crossed his arms over his chest. Harry figured it was his turn to speak. "Affection? I don't like you, sir, and to be honest, I don't think I'm asking you for anything."

"Aren't you?" asked Snape behind half-lidded eyes.

Harry frowned. "No! I... " He thumped his fists against his thighs. Why was this so difficult? "I don't know what to say, Professor. When I can't talk to Hermione or Ron, I go and talk to Professor Dumbledore. Now..." Harry shrugged. "Now, he's a kid. He's only a few years older than me and he doesn't have any of the answers."

Snape opened his eyes and sat up straight. "What answers are you looking for, Potter?"

Harry stared down at the sidewalk. "I don't know, Professor and I don't know if I trust you to have them."

Snape realized that whatever it was he was hoping to accomplish wasn't about to resolve itself in the middle of Diagon Alley. For now, it was time to end this misery for both of them. "Mr. Potter, I believe that we must both agree on one thing today and that is that we cannot come to a solution that is agreeable to either of us today. Let us just put this behind us for now and go join Miss Granger and Mr. Weasely." Harry nodded and rose to his feet, eager to just drop everything. Snape also stood and they started to walk in silence toward Grizelda's Treat Shop. "Mr. Potter... I mean, Harry?"

"Yes, professor?"

"I may not have the answers you're seeking, but as you are searching, I am willing to listen. I believe that you know me well enough to know I will not sugar-coat or dumb-down my answers to you. If I know the truth, I shall give it to you. Will that be acceptable to you, at least for now?"

"I think so, sir. Thank you." Harry sighed. He thought he ought to be confused, but then he wasn't sure. He did know that in offering this olive branch to him, Snape had effectively pulled the rug out from under him, again. Am I ever going to understand him?

Inwardly, Severus Snape sighed and smiled grimly. This was not going to be easy. He then wondered if it ever might be.