Severus went straight to the flue and threw floo powder in before sticking his head in the green flames and calling out, “Headmaster’s office.”

Harry stood up to follow but Snape put a stop to that.

“Sit, Potter. Stay put.” The next second the Potion Master was swirling out of sight in a cloud of green smoke.

Harry sank down into a chair, wary about what Snape would do next. He knew he was causing the Potion Master pain but he wasn’t certain how or why it was happening. He hated the idea that Snape was the only person who could relieve the sharp pain of Voldemort’s attacks.

He looked around at all the disturbing creatures stuck in jars along the shelves. It troubled him that he had any sort of connection to Snape. The man was just so creepy, with sinister black clothes and a nasty temper. Harry pressed his fingers against his temples. Bloody hell his head hurt! Damn Voldemort!

Twenty minutes later he was still in the same chair but now he was actually wishing Snape would get back so his head would stop pounding. His knuckles were white with the fierce grip he had on the chair. He almost jumped for joy when the flue lit up and Snape stepped out of the fireplace. The respite from the pain was instantaneous.

Snape stalked into the room. He could instantly see the relief in the boy‘s face and he didn‘t like being the cause of that relief. Through gritted teeth he snapped out, “Potter, stand up.”

Before Harry had a chance to stand, the flue turned green once more and Dumbledore swept into the room.

:Ahh, Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore said with a smile, “so good to see you feeling better.”

Harry frowned, still not feeling particularly congenial towards the elderly wizard. He felt a rush of anger and had to look away to control it.

“I understand we have a situation,” Dumbledore said, taking a seat behind Snape’s desk. “Do you have any questions you would like to ask me, Harry?”

Harry almost growled in frustration as he thought to himself that he had several questions he would like to ask the headmaster, the first being; ‘why didn’t you do more to help me with the Dursley’s?’

Instead, he asked, “Do you know why this…,” he pointed to his scar, “Why my scar stops hurting when I’m around Professor Snape?”

“That is a good question, Harry. I have a theory but I’d like to test it. Would you please come stand here.” the Headmaster pointed to the front of the desk. “I’ll need you both to place your hands on top of this sphere.”

He pulled a round silver ball out of the folds of his robe. It was about the size of a Muggle baseball, and he placed it on the desk.

Harry didn’t hesitate to grip the sphere. He just wanted to find out what the bloody hell was going on. The moment Snape put his hand over Harry’s, Harry shrieked out in pain and snatched his hand away.

“Ouch!“ Harry shook his aching hand out, then cradled it against his body.

Snape gave him a withering glare.

“Harry, do you think you could endure the pain just long enough for me to cast a reveal spell,” The Headmaster asked.

Snape’s unrelenting glare compelled Harry to reply, “I can take .”

Harry took a deep breath then gripped the silver ball once more. It took every ounce of self restraint he had to continue holding the sphere once Snape placed his hand on top of his. The sharp pain shot through his body causing his knees to buckle momentarily. He recovered quickly, gripping the desk with his free hand to help steady his legs. The pain turned into a dull ache by the time the Headmaster began to recite the reveal spell.

Halfway through the spell, the pain was completely gone. Harry looked up at his teacher and could tell by Snape’s tense jaw and the sweat on his brow that he had taken on the pain now. Snape gripped his hand tighter as if he wanted to pass the pain back onto Harry.

A blue glow emanated from their hands. A moment later pink smoke rose up from the sphere casting a misty numeric sign that hovered in the air.

Dumbledore stopped speaking as he read the signs. He took a deep breath then hummed to himself as he nodded.

Snape snatched his hand away cradling it with his other hand, ‘What is it, Albus?”

“Perhaps you should both sit,” Albus suggested as he stroked his long white beard.

“I’ll stand,” Severus snapped out, “Just get on with it, Albus.”

Harry sat down, wanting to distance himself from Snape’s orneriness.

“Fine,” Albus calmly began to explain, “Severus, you were correct in assuming a charm has been cast. I am uncertain how Lily managed to cast this spell? It normally requires both parties to willingly contribute blood.”

“Albus, what is this spell?”

Albus held the Potion Master’s gaze, “I am not certain how Lily knew this spell would be necessary but she has designated you as Harry’s blood guardian.”

“Impossible!”

“What!?!” Harry exclaimed.

“It is not a mistake,” Albus said, sounding almost pleased. “You are magically bound to protect and watch over, Harry.”

Severus shook his head, “That is not possible, Albus! There must be a mistake! I would never agree to this!”

Even though Harry wanted nothing to do with the bad-tempered man, he still felt a pang of hurt for being rejected so forcefully.

Albus smiled at the men before him, “The sphere does not lie. An unbreakable bond has been cast. The bond is very complicated with many facets to it. What you are both experiencing is the bond connecting you both as if you were blood relatives. The adult unconsciously brings about old magic to protect the child. The adult will protect the child in every way possible … even if it puts himself in danger.”

“I did not agree to this!” Snape repeated in a voice so frosty that Harry leaned away from him.

“What puzzles me more is how Lily knew this spell would be necessary?” the Headmaster said as if he did not hear Snape’s angry reply. “She had to have cast this spell when both James and Sirius Black were still alive. How did she know that Sirius Black would not be able to shield Harry against Voldemort‘s attacks?”

Severus banged his fist down on the desktop, “I do not care why she cast this spell! I just want to end it!”

Harry nodded in agreement. Although the relief against Voldemort’s attacks was brilliant, it still wasn’t worth having Snape as a, …a blood guardian, whatever that meant.

Albus stood up, placing both hands flat down on the desk and leaning forward, “Gentlemen, it is irrevocable. There is no counter spell that can be performed. You must learn to accept that in which you have no control over.”

Severus also placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward so he was looking Albus in the eyes, “This situation is unacceptable. I will not be tethered to a stupid boy that I can not even stand the sight of!”

Harry looked down at his hands to hide his reaction to those words. He wasn’t sure why he felt hurt, his feelings didn’t make sense to him. Something deep within him ached.

“Harry?” Albus put a hand on the boy‘s shoulder.

Harry frowned deeply. The lifelong need to protect himself against rejection forced his anger to the surface. He shrugged off the Headmaster‘s hand, “I agree with Professor Snape, I don’t want to have anything to do with this spell. We have to end it.”

“It is not possible,” Albus said in a much sterner voice. He stood up and walked towards the flue, “I highly suggest you both accept this situation.”

“Where are you going?” Snape asked with a hint of alarm. “We must find a solution.”

Albus shook his head, giving Harry a look of sympathy, “I am going to my office to find out what forced Lily to cast this spell. I have a theory …” Albus disappeared into the green flame.

Both Harry and Snape stared at the empty fireplace.