5

Chapter Five

18

It was Saturday, and Harry couldn't be happier. He forced himself up, brushed his clothes off and left, Snape still sleeping behind his curtains. He walked up to Gryffindor Tower beneath his invisibility cloak, not having any idea of the time, or really even when curfew was at all. He forgot about the enchantment on the girls' staircase and made it a few steps up before the stairs turned into a slide and he fell, collapsing in a heap.

He sprinted up to his room, grabbed a piece of paper and sent up a note, flying a paper airplane to Hermione's room. She came down a few minutes later in pajamas, blinking blearily.

"Harry?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm lonely," he said completely honestly. "Will you just lie with me for a minute?"

She gave him a sad, sympathetic look. "You're pushing yourself too hard," she said, sitting next to him on the couch, taking his hand. "You've got to get Snape to let you have some nights off. I haven't seen you do anything other than study and eat in months."

"Do you see Neville taking nights off?" Harry asked, lying down and pulling Hermione with him. "No. He practically lives in the greenhouses."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, drawing his arm around herself. "You take on too much. The world won't end if Snape has to prepare his own ingredients."

"It's fine," Harry said, not eager to delve to deeply into such a conversation. "Really. I'm just tired. And lonely."

"It's gotten around what you're doing," Hermione said. Harry stiffened. "Not the details, don't worry, just that you're working on something that could help. Everyone is very impressed, and very fond of you. If you wanted, you could be less lonely."

Harry snorted. "I don't want a girl who only wants me because I'm her concept of a hero."

"Then you should get out more," she said. "Find a girl who wants you for you."

"No," Harry sighed. "No, I'll stay lonely. I just need a break from being alone."

"Okay," Hermione said. "I'm here, though. You're not alone. You've got me and Ron, we're always here."

Harry's stomach twisted. They wouldn't be there in the dragon reserve. But he wasn't thinking about that now. He was thinking about his friend in his arms, his friend who loved him, his friend who was warm and loved him and always there for him. As long as she didn't know, of course, but he wasn't thinking of that. He was falling asleep, that's what he was doing. He had cried himself out and crying always made him tired so now he was falling asleep.

"G'night, 'Mione."

"Sleep well. Sleep well, and sleep long."

"Yeah."

He woke up when Ron sat down at the edge of the couch, pushing his feet aside and taking Hermione's onto his lap. Harry was very happy to have his other friend close by. Then he fell asleep again.

Harry had completely lost track of time, and was absolutely delighted that there was a Quidditch match that day. He blew off his homework entirely, spending the morning laughing and joking with his fellow Gryffindors like old times, ate lunch without a single glance at the head table (well, except once, and Snape looked no different than always, no more or less pleased that Harry was having a brilliant time with his friends), and cheered Gryffindor on to a spectacular victory against the Slytherins. He caught Malfoy's eye as the Snitch was caught and gave Malfoy his own smirk. Malfoy looked disgusted and turned away.

He couldn't avoid homework forever, and they spent the afternoon studying. Ron and even Hermione relied on him for help with potions, which made Harry feel useful in a way he hadn't for ages. He was lost in pretty much every other subject, but at least he had mastered potions. Even though he spent most afternoons and the early evening studying with Ron and Hermione, it was only now he felt like he was really, truly catching up. He was so wrapped up in everything else he was genuinely surprised when Hermione told them they were covering defense charms, and reminded him he had passed the last test, the one that had happened a few days ago, with flying colors.

His mood fell after dinner, and continued to plummet with each tick of the clock. At ten of eight he gathered his things, slipped under his cloak, and returned to the Chamber. Snape was already there—he usually was, on the weekends—and Harry tossed his bag into his room and joined him at the table.

"What're we doing tonight?" Harry asked, keeping the feeling of Hermione in his arms in the front of his mind, clinging onto the last vestiges of his good mood.

"Do whatever pleases you," Snape said. "I release you of your nightly duties."

Harry stared at him. "No," he said dumbly. "No, I'm working with you."

"You need a night off," Snape replied. "Take it."

"No," Harry repeated. "I want to do this. If I get to pick what I want to do, I want to work with you."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "If you insist." He handed Harry a sprig of a plant he didn't recognize. "Prune it and finely chop the leaves. Finely. You aren't good at finely, and you need the practice."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and began pruning.

Snape continued to stare at him. "Sir?" he echoed. "You haven't called me sir once down here."

"I've got a bit of a good mood left," Harry said. "Destroying Slytherin in Quidditch, spending time with my friends. I apologize, though. I didn't mean to say such a thing, you git."

"Keep your mouth shut and prune."

When Harry finished chopping the leaves, which took three separate inspections before Snape declared them fine enough, he sat back. "Today was the first time in ages I've had a good day," he said. "I slept with Hermione—sleep, actual sleep, don't you dare misunderstand that—spent time in Gryffindor Tower, went to the Quidditch match, studied."

"Spent the morning crying," Snape said as he added the leaves to the cauldron.

Harry paused. "I thought you had a silencing spell on your room."

"One way," Snape said. "It would hardly be wise for me to leave myself unprotected from you."

"Well, fine then, what if I was crying?" Harry asked. "I've got enough to cry about. What's next?"

"Stirring," Snape replied. "Then steeping."

Harry sighed quietly. "Not a lot to do tonight."

"We can have a game of chess, if you so desire."

Harry looked at him. "You want to play chess with me?"

"I do not wish to be woken up at three in the morning by hysterics," Snape said not entirely unkindly. "If you are in a good mood, it would benefit me to keep you as such."

"All right then. How much stirring do you have left?"

"Nine minutes, give or take," Snape replied.

Harry moved the benches away from the table and transfigured them into the same cushy couches as before. A rock became a table, and Harry summoned his chess set over and set up. He spent the next few minutes lying on the couch, wishing Hermione was here to cuddle with. Or Ron, though that was more awkward. Really, anyone, any warm body would be good. Snape kept warming spells on the Chamber at all times, but it was never truly warm.

Snape came over several minutes later and they set to it. The game seemed to last forever; Harry still played himself in his spare time, and was nearly good enough to beat Snape on a regular basis, rather than by chance. Snape was resetting when Harry spoke.

"Do you get lonely?"

Snape paused for a second. "That's none of your business, Potter."

"It's so lonely down here," Harry said. "That's why I left so early today, why I spent the day with my Gryffindors. There were times when I thought I was lonely, but this is different. I miss my dorm."

"There are many potions yet to make," Snape replied. "First to control your eyes, then to control when you change. I have spent many hours going over the log of your transformations and I have yet to find a pattern. I have not given up, either."

"Maybe one day you'll find a cure," Harry said. "But not while I'm still here, not when you can test it. I'll be in the Hebrideans hiding out and you'll be teaching at Hogwarts, just like always. You're lonely here, but you're still surrounded by people. I'll be dodging dragons. I'll probably be safe enough as a Basilisk, but being human… I hadn't really thought of that, actually. I can still eat wildlife, that's not a problem, and I'm used to the cold. My skin is extra tough even as a human, did I tell you?" Snape nodded. "Yeah. I guess I'll just be bored and lonely."

"Stay at Hogwarts," Snape said, sounding just as surprised at his words as Harry. "Stay in the forest. I can help you."

Harry sighed. "We'll see, I guess." He laughed a little. "I should stop studying. What's the point of N.E.W.T.s if I'm going to spend my years in a forest? I can hardly be an Auror when I'm as dark as they come."

"You're not dark," Snape said, sounding annoyed. "Really, Potter, must we go through this again?"

"I'm not upset," Harry said. "I'm not complaining. I'm just saying. I might as well think realistically. I'll finish my year, and take my N.E.W.T.s, and I'll visit Ron and Hermione, as much as I can, but it's not going to be a real life, not like yours. You did so much good, and I'm just… just a snake."

"Are you telling me that you have done no good in this world?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said. "I've done good. But you get to spend the rest of your life teaching. Your good goes on, while mine shrivels away."

"I'm sick of this moping," Snape said, suddenly much more harsh than before. "If you don't make the first move, I'll take it."

Harry didn't bother looking at the board, just sent a pawn forward. "I'm not moping, I told you." He paused as Snape made his move. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Snape stared at him. "I believe you've told me quite a few secrets, Potter. If you feel the need to share further, I will not stop you."

"I won't miss being good the most," he said. "I should, I know that, and I will, because I could have done so much more with my life. But the biggest thing I'll miss is human contact. That's why I cuddled with Hermione, to get as much in as I can."

"You'll still be able to, don't be ridiculous," Snape replied irritably. "The same way as you do now. During the day, when it's safe."

Harry shook his head. "I've got Hermione and Ron, and they're dating, and then they'll get engaged, and married, and have kids. I'll hardly be able to spend the night with her then. Even now it's only okay because of what we went through last year. She's got someone. I have no business cuddling with her." He looked at the chessboard and directed his pieces. "I can't find someone either. Dating isn't exactly an option when I've got to disappear at eight every night."

"I'm hardly the person to talk to about this," Snape said uncomfortably. "You saw my memories. I'll find a cure for you, or at least something to hold it off, or give you control or perhaps a schedule. After which you'll be able to have anyone you want."

"When I'm several hundred years old?" Harry asked. "That'll be appealing."

"Potter, really," Snape said. "Save this conversation for someone more optimistic than I."

"You should make an optimism potion," Harry said.

"There are several, and they do not interest me." Snape sighed impatiently. "Can't we just play chess? When I suggested a game I did not realize 'playing chess' equated to 'speak intimately of one's life'."

"Sorry," Harry said. "Sometimes I forget you're a heartless bastard." He moved his bishop out of the way of Snape's rook. "Just yesterday we were contemplating friendship, and now you're telling me to shut up."

"I said I had grown used to you," Snape corrected.

Harry sighed, and that was the last of his good mood out the window. "Yeah, never mind." They returned to the game, and Harry actually won. He stood up and stretched. "I'm going to try to get my good mood back. I'm not sure if telling you will get me in trouble, but I've got a bottle of Firewhiskey and I intend to drink until I'm happy again."

Harry was rummaging through his things, trying to figure out where he'd put it, when Snape opened his curtain.

"If I suggested sharing your bottle, would that be yet another previously unknown means of 'speak intimately of one's life'?"

Harry jerked up and stared at Snape. "Um. No. I suppose not. You have to promise not to be a jerk, though. This is for good mood purposes only."

"Fine."

He finally found the bottle behind a pile of first year textbooks he had no idea why he'd brought, and went back to the couches. He popped the cork and took the inaugural swig. Snape cleared his throat and Harry saw two shot glasses on the table.

"Oh," Harry said, embarrassed. "Right." He poured them each a shot and set the bottle on the table.

Snape raised his shot glass. "To an attempt to find a good mood."

"Cheers." The whiskey burned deliciously, somehow tasting better from the glass than the bottle. Maybe because it was less pathetic. "I have to say, I never thought I'd be drinking with you. Then again, this whole year has been one big 'never thought'."

"No sharing intimate details," Snape said firmly. "Otherwise I'll report you for the Firewhiskey."

"You're a jerk," Harry said. "I wasn't sharing intimate details, I was musing."

"Then I hereby revoke all speaking privileges." Snape poured them another shot. "Though I suppose it is your turn for a toast."

"Hmm," Harry considered. "To, quite literally, underground drinking parties. Less literal on the party end. Literal about—"

"I get it, Potter," Snape interrupted. "Stop toasting and take the shot."

"Fine, sorry," Harry grumbled. This may have been a bad idea; a good mood was nowhere to be found, and it didn't seem like one was on the horizon.

Then again, maybe another shot would help.

Snape refilled the glasses. "To potions."

"No," Harry said quickly before either of them could drink. "I'm not toasting that. Pick something else."

Snape glared at him. "Fine. To Crup puppies and Kneazle kittens."

"I can get behind that," Harry said, and they drank. "I should hold off. I'm not in the mood to get sick."

Snape waved his wand at the Firewhiskey bottle, which glowed green for a second before returning to normal. "There. Hangover free."

Harry ogled him. "What spell was that?"

Snape smirked. "I'm still your professor, Potter, and I'm not supposed to teach such magic."

"Not down here," Harry said. "You're my—my—brewer."

"I'm still your superior," Snape said firmly. "Ordering you to toast a shot of whiskey is perhaps not in my contract, yet I can still dock points if you refuse."

Harry laughed. "To all things outside the rules."

Snape rolled his eyes. "I have spent the entirety of your time at Hogwarts attempting to catch you doing such things."

"Which we're doing now," Harry pointed out. "C'mon. It's a good toast."

Snape sighed. "Fine."

"M'kay, now 've got to stop," Harry said, slurring a little. "No intimate details, no more shots."

"I'm less concerned with such things," Snape said, and Harry decided repeating his words and lowering his inhibitions was as close to drunk as Snape would get. Then Harry remembered that lowered inhibitions was the best part of being drunk.

"To your mother."

"No," Harry said angrily. "Stop it with the sad toasts. And no more puppies or kittens either. Do it better."

Snape sighed irritably. "I don't know. I usually drink by myself."

"To drinking not alone," Harry said.

"Acceptable."

They drank, and Harry frowned. "I've lost track of shots. 'M not 'llowed more'n five."

"Oh?" Snape asked, either genuinely curious or Harry was too drunk to tell the difference.

"Not good at drinking," Harry said. "There was a party first weekend, b'fore this boll'cks, an' it didn' end well."

"Well you're on five," Snape supplied. "And you're starting to sound ridiculous."

"Mhm," Harry said sagely. "At th' party, I had—hmm—eight, I think, an' 'Mione said the next day no more than five."

Snape smirked. "You don't even remember why?"

"No," Harry replied angrily. "No, I do. Snogged Dean." He frowned. "Or Seamus. Don' remember."

Snape's eyebrows shot up. "You're gay?"

Harry shrugged. "Haven' had time t' 'vestigate. Busy bein' a snake. Prolly not." He shuffled around so he was lying down and stared at the ceiling. "Wish it wasn' so dank. 'T's d'pressing. But thanks f'r th' smell-thing. 'T's better now. Not so rotty, more pleasan'. Like—um—like, uh—"

"Grass," Snape supplied. "You seemed to like it yesterday." He frowned. "Yesterday? The day before?"

"I dunno," Harry said. "Whatever. Smells nice now. Thanks."

"It's fine, only took ten minutes of brewing," Snape replied. "Then it just sat for a couple hours until it smelled good, and from there it was just a matter of infusing the walls."

"Thass strange," Harry said with a bit of a giggle. "Infusin' walls? Muss be magic."

"Yes, that is how it's done," Snape said, smiling.

"Hmmm," Harry sighed. "'M happier now, some. Still lonely, juss don' really care. Also the idea of turnin' into a Baliskik's pretty ridiculous, when y'think 'bout it."

Snape let out a small laugh. "Not much more than turning into a wolf, if you really think about it."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're right!"

"I almost always am."

Harry considered this for a while. "Were-Flobberworms would be the silliest."

Snape burst into genuine laughter. "I think you're onto something."

"Maybe thass the potion you shoul' do," Harry said. "Turn me into a Flobberworm 'stead of a Basiskil."

"You really have trouble with that word when you're drinking, don't you?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "Ssssnake. Ssssnaaaaaape. Better than Balisisk."

"I'm surprised Granger approved five shots," Snape said mildly. "I should've cut you off at three."

"No," Harry sighed. "Five's better." He frowned. "Maybe 've been takin' too many poshuns, though. That calming draught. The relacksashun poshun. Now Fire whiksey. I should b'have m'self."

"You're fine," Snape said dismissively. "You needed the calming draught and the relaxation potion was three months ago."

"Suppose so." Harry sighed. "What time's it?"

Snape conjured a Tempus charm. "A little bit after eleven. Why?"

Harry struggled into a seated position. "'M gonna go back t' Gyrffindor Tow'r. Sleep in m' own room. Maybe fin' 'Mione an' cuddle. Or Ginnieee. We're still good frien's."

"Oh no you don't," Snape said firmly, training his wand on Harry, just in case. "You are not stumbling around this castle in the middle of the night when you're drunk. You're going to get caught and then you'll say something about this. You are staying right here."

"Nooo," Harry whined. "No, I wan' Gyrfinndor."

"No," Snape said. "Stay."

"'M not a dog," Harry said angrily. "Y'can' juss order me to 'sit'. I'll do what I wan'."

"Yes I can," Snape replied. "I'm your superior, your professor, and you are bound to do what I say."

"Like thass stopped m' in th' pass," Harry said, eyes narrowing. "'M leavin'."

"No."

"Yes."

Purple light shot of Snape's wand, and then he couldn't move. "Hey!" Harry yelled indignantly. "Hey, lemme go!"

"Not until you promise me you aren't leaving," Snape said calmly. "You could still change, it's happened as late as one in the morning, and imagine a drunk Basilisk running amok."

"'ll b' fine," Harry said. "Seriously. Lemme go."

"Are you going to stay here?"

"I don' know but lemme go!" Harry said, escalating into yelling. "D'you know the lass time I was moved against my will with a wordless spell? When I was at Tom Riddle's grave. Do you really want to relive those moments with me?"

Snape stared at him, and with a swish of his wand he was released. "I'm sorry."

"Y'better be," Harry grumbled, slipping back into his slur. "Happy thoughts. That was the poin' of drinkin'. Good mood." Then he remembered his original goal. "What if y'walked m' back?"

Snape also had to work to remember what they were talking about. "Potter, it's not safe. If you really need to I'll take you there no earlier than three. You have my permission to wake me up. Don't endanger those around you, those closest to you, because you get selfish when you're drunk."

"I hate this," Harry said angrily, kicking the table. Snape grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey to keep it from spilling. "I juss wanna go to bed."

Snape sighed heavily. "Do you need help getting into bed, Potter?"

"No!" Harry yelled. Then his voice dropped. "I didn' mean this bed. My bed. In Gyrrifindor."

"I'm calling on our secrecy contract," Snape said, getting out his wand. "This is not to be spoken of."

"Yeah, fine," Harry said, too busy moping to take in his words.

Then suddenly his couch was red. So was Snape's. The chess pieces pushed to the side were red and gold. The sheets dividing the rooms were red trimmed with gold. Snape conjured a red and gold striped rug. He built a hobbled fireplace out of stacked rocks, then transfigured it into a proper fireplace and lit a fire.

"I don't remember what else is in the Gryffindor common room," Snape said. "Have I missed anything?"

Harry was gaping at him. "Uh—"

"Tell me now, I don't want to spend the rest of the night waiting for you to remember your own common room."

"Throws," Harry said. "Red an' gold throws. Soff' throws. An'—uh—" He sighed. "Winnows. I miss winnows."

The throws were easy, but Snape had to concentrate very hard on the last of Harry's requests. A floating rectangle appeared opposite the fireplace, was adorned with red and gold drapes, and, after a great deal of whispered incantations, turned clear and looked out on the grounds. Harry gasped in delight.

"It's the view from the front doors," Snape said, tucking his wand away. "I haven't the slightest idea what Gryffindors see. But it is real, as enchanted as the ceiling in the Great Hall."

Harry suddenly felt like crying. "Thank you." He wrapped a red and gold throw around himself. "You don' get 'nough credit f'r y'r spells."

"I excel at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Snape replied loftily. His face fell a little. "The dark arts as well, through no fault of my own. But yes, Potter, I can hold my own in most areas."

Harry slid off the couch and onto the carpet, which was very comfortable indeed, and sat in front of the fireplace. The warmth felt like home, the crackles and pops were music to his ears, the familiarity of his house colors all the way down here felt like a hug. "Thank you again," he said, voice clogged with unshed tears. After all this time, Snape could still surprise him, even sometimes with kindness.

Another shock when Snape sat next to him, whiskey bottle and shot glasses in hand. He handed one to Harry and filled them.

"To Gryffindor," Harry said remarkably clearly, "and those who bring home to un-homelike places."

Snape winced. "To the second part of that. I'll never toast Gryffindors."

"Close enough." The warmth of the whiskey on the inside combined with the fire on the outside was absolutely fantastic. "No more though. 'Ve had 'nough."

"Have you achieved your happy mood, then?"

"No," Harry said. "But 've axc—acss—c'me to th' cloncusion 'm not goin' to, an' drinkin' m're af'r thass th' road t' addickshion."

"Fair enough." Snape took one more shot, then set the bottle and their glasses aside. "I'm sorry I ruined your good mood."

"No, wasn' you. Was m' condickshun." Harry sighed again. "All-ways wanted a fambly, a proper one, like I never had. Thought I'd get married, have kids, send 'm t' Howgarts. Not 'nymore. What 'f I pass this down?" Another sigh. "No, no kids f'r me."

"I'll find a cure," Snape said. "You've just got to hold off until then."

Harry shook his head. "Too dagnerous. T's all-right. 'Ll survive. 'Ve got Teddy, an' when Ron an' 'Mione have kids, theirs. All th' Weasleys. Live vicalirously. Like you."

"Don't live like me," Snape said. "You'll find a way." He made an expression as if he smelled something very unpleasant. "Your parents were exceptional. You—Dumbledore always said you were destined for something great. You'll get along."

Harry smiled a bit. "Yer nice, when y'want t'be. Dunno why y'couldn' b' nice t'me 'for thiss."

"Because you're an insufferable prat," Snape replied. "Too much like your father."

"Righ', cause Mafloy's so much better," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Y'had t' pick th' git t' favor. Th' two of you, makin' my life a livin' hell."

"I was undercover," Snape said. "It was necessary for the greater good. Even if I had no obligation to him, I certainly wouldn't have chosen you."

"F'rget it," Harry said quietly, angrily. "Don' wanna talk 'bout it 'nymore. Should've known y'couldn' b' nice f'r long."

"Potter—"

"Shut up," Harry interrupted. "Unless th' next words out of y'r mouth 're—'re—I don' even know. Juss please stop talkin'." He let out a sharp breath. "Merlin, y'r th' only one I c'n talk t'. I hate you."

"If it's any consolation, you can be appallingly difficult yourself," Snape replied. "But I don't hate you, not anymore. What's the point? We're stuck in this together, we might as well try getting along."

Harry considered. "How civil. Y'r votalie. One mitune an arse, th' next nice. I don' unnerstad y'."

"You're too drunk to understand anything," Snape replied. "If I had known you were a sad drunk, I never would have let you drink in the first place."

"Well I didn' know,: Harry said irritably. "Lass time I wasn' sad. Handsy, but not sad. Lass time I didn' have 'nythin' t' b' sad 'bout. Lass time was a party."

"And this time?" Snape asked. "I've made your common room, given you a window, aided you in drinking. I've put all my energy into finding a way to control your eyes. What more do you want from me?"

Harry was very drunk indeed, but this was a different sort of drunk, he'd already established that. Maybe he wasn't a handsy drunk after all, maybe he was just a physical drunk. Merlin, he was a physical human, spending the morning cuddling with Hermione. And now he was really drunk, and depressed, and he wanted his parents, or Sirius, or Remus, or Dumbledore, anyone he could talk to who cared about him.

Anyway, his point was that he was really drunk.

So he leaned over, resting against Snape, head on his shoulder, exhausted and defeated body against his side. Even in his drunkenness he could tell how uncomfortable Snape was, how any relaxation was gone, replaced by surprise and awkwardness and probably revulsion but in that moment Harry didn't care, he just needed someone, anyone.

"'M sorry," Harry muttered. "Y'r all 've got. Juss for now, please don' hate me."

Snape sighed heavily. "If you ever, ever tell anyone, under any circumstances—I don't care if you're under the Cruciatus Curse, or have been fed a vat of Veritaserum—I will see to it that you are expelled with the greatest of dishonors, that everyone knows what you are, and I'll destroy all the work I've done for you, just to spite you. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded. "Mhm." His eyelids were heavy, and he thought sleep was close. That would be brilliant, sleep.

So he was really tired and really drunk and so it almost seemed normal for Snape to wrap an arm around him and hold him.

"If you ever—"

"I know," Harry interrupted. "Thanks. 'Ve loss everyone. Juss you."

"Shut up, Potter."

"M'kay."

Harry shifted to the side, leaning fully against the closest person to a guardian he had, and fell asleep against him.

19

Harry woke up in bed. He felt like that was wrong, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't drunk anymore, and he was hangover free, thanks to Snape's spell. But apparently neither of those things equated to remembering the night. The last thing he knew for sure—and this was probably because it was still in effect—was that his bedding and curtains were in Gryffindor colors. After that things were vague. He thought he might have spent a long time moping.

He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, but his glasses were neatly folded on his desk, and his shoes at the foot of his bed. He was—tucked in? Usually he half-heartedly threw the blankets over himself and woke up with them pooled down around his feet. Not this morning, though. It was almost a shame to disrupt the covers long enough to get out.

He shuffled over to his glasses, then out of his room. Harry was shocked to see the makeshift Gryffindor common room still intact. The brewing table was off to the side with two new benches, no doubt transfigured from rocks. That was one thing about the Chamber, there were plenty of rocks for transfiguration. Snape was already at work, stirring diligently.

"Morning," Harry muttered, scuffling over to his bench and sitting down. "What d'you need me to do?"

Snape pushed a pile of cherry pits over. "Halve these."

"'Kay." Harry got to work. He might not have a hangover per se, but he was certainly groggy. He was having a lot of trouble getting his halves even, and after taking new pits for the third time Snape smacked his hand away and ordered him to go get some breakfast.

"D'you want anything?" Harry asked from behind his curtain. "Toast? Muffins? A scone?"

"If they've got raspberry scones, I wouldn't turn one down," Snape replied.

"M'kay."

Harry trudged up to the Great Hall and joined Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"You look awful," Ron said tactfully. "Didn't sleep well?"

"Too much Firewhiskey," Harry replied, opting for a piece of dry toast to test his stomach.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"Down there?" Hermione asked quietly. "By yourself?"

Harry's brain still wasn't working quite right. "Uh, yeah. Charmed my curtains closed and quiet. Pretty boring." The toast was fine, so he helped himself to some eggs, a few pancakes and coffee.

"Thought you were working," Ron said. "That was the whole point of being in the Ch—being down there. You could've brought the bottle up to the Tower, we could've helped out with that."

"I didn't want a repeat of last time," Harry said, regaining himself. "Wouldn't want to snog you, Ron. Sorry, not my type."

Ron snorted orange juice out of his nose and spent a long while complaining about acid and delicate nasal passages and how that wasn't funny at all.

"Or Hermione," Harry said thoughtfully. "Who knows who I'd snog when trashed? Could be anyone."

"Don't worry Harry, I'd slap you long before you could kiss me," Hermione said with a smile. "You only got to Seamus due to the element of surprise. Now that we know you're overly affectionate we can prepare."

Something flashed through Harry's mind. Affection. What about affection? His stomach started turning. Affection, that couldn't be good, not when he was drinking with Snape.

"Then next time I'll be sure to wake you at three in the morning to get wasted," Harry said. "You'd be thrilled about that, right? Snape keeps me busy until then, and even when he lets me off early, I've still got to wait for him to go to bed before sneaking out."

Ron's face fell. "Oh, right," he said dejectedly. "Forgot about that."

"Get a night off," Hermione insisted. "You deserve one. We'll have a little party, just the three of us."

"Think I've had enough alcohol for now, thanks," Harry replied, trying to steer the conversation away. "Plus I've got loads of homework to catch up on. Firewhiskey and essays don't exactly go together."

"Great, you can help me with potions," Ron said. "I can brew decently, but the theory behind it, I'm bollocks. Who cares why you need to stir clockwise or counterclockwise?"

"If you're creating your own potion it matters," Harry said. "You can completely reverse the effects by stirring the wrong way. Not to mention the effect it can have on certain ingredients, especially plants. Plants like to be clockwise."

"Yes they do," Neville piped up. "That's the one thing I know about potions."

"You're infuriating, Harry," Ron muttered. "Helpful, but infuriating."

They finished eating and were halfway standing up before Harry noticed a plate of scones. "Wait, what flavor are those?"

"Raspberry, they're really good," Hermione said.

Harry grabbed a napkin and grabbed two. "For study snacks," he said. "I've got to go down and get my books. I'll meet you in the Tower?"

"Yeah, see you in a few."

Harry cast a warming spell on the scones as he returned to the Chamber.

"Here," he said cheerfully. "Raspberry scones. I've got studying with Ron and Hermione, I'll see you at eight?"

"You nearly failed your last Defense essay, by the way," Snape said. "I'm handing them back tomorrow, but you should be aware you need to step up your work."

Harry glared at him. "You know what I was doing the night before it was due? Milking Inland Taipan snake venom. Do you know how hard it is to milk venom from a dead snake? Do you know how miserable it is to do that to your own species? No, you don't, because you can't milk poison from human fangs, because you haven't got poisonous fangs."

"Stop whining, Potter," Snape replied.

"I brought you scones," Harry muttered as he gathered his books. "I milk your snakes and I bring you scones, and you fail me."

"Nearly, I said," Snape said.

"Brilliant," Harry replied angrily. "I'll be back at eight."

20

Just after dinner Harry remembered what had happened last night. He, Ron and Hermione returned to the Tower to finish the last vestiges of homework. Ron and Hermione had sat down next to each other, Ron drawing Hermione into his arms so they were cuddling. Not an uncommon sight, which is why his friends looked so confused as Harry's jaw dropped.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked. "Getting so desperate for a girl just the sight of cuddling is enough to get you off?"

"I—no, of course not," Harry stammered. "I just—nothing, just thought of something for my—" He glanced down at his papers "—transfiguration essay."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised. "What would that be?"

Harry couldn't even remember the topic, not when his brain was swirling with—Merlin's bloody beard—memories of cuddling against Snape. He was desperate, Ron was right about that. He was just wrong about what he was desperate for.

"I don't remember anymore," Harry said ridiculously. "Here one minute, gone the next."

"Harry, that's the exact same look you got when you remembered you snogged Seamus," Ron said. "It's your I-just-remembered-how-much-I-fucked-up look."

"He's not wrong," Hermione added. "Though you get that look when you do things other than snog your friend. Turn in a bad paper?"

Of course Hermione would think it had to do with homework. "Yeah," Harry admitted. "Yeah, I think I completely screwed up my last Defense essay. I didn't want to say anything because, y'know, that should be my easiest subject, but Snape kept me up late that night, and I think I said Legilimency instead of Occulmency."

"This is why you should let me check over your papers," Hermione said. "To avoid stupid mistakes."

"I don't buy it," Ron said. "That you blew your essay? Sure. But that look was way worse than a homework assignment gone wrong."

"When it's for Snape?" Harry asked. "No, I don't think so. He's made it blindingly clear to me that he'd be more than happy to fail me. How am I supposed to get into the Ministry without my Defense N.E.W.T.?"

Ron looked at him distrustfully. "Maybe."

"I promise," Harry said firmly. "Hermione, check my Defense essay?"

"Hand it over."

Harry was quite sure it was perfect, he was already paranoid about it, but they didn't know that. He started on Charms while she checked over his work. Charms was his last paper; maybe, if he finished in time, he and Ron could get in a quick chess game.

"It looks good," Hermione said, passing it back. "Well, it looks awful, your handwriting is atrocious, but the content is good."

"Thanks a million."

Harry didn't end up having enough time for chess, they never did. He was feeling bitter about it and almost agreed to stay past eight before remembering his first accident, when he changed suddenly in the dorms and petrified Dean. At least he had the endless excuse of Snape's anger on his side. Harry thought it was entirely possible his friends were starting to get suspicious, but it was early-March, leaving only three months left until he was free.

Of course, by free he meant exiled to the woods. But at least he wouldn't need to make up anymore excuses.

"I finished my Defense essay," Harry said by way of greeting. "Hermione checked it over. Checked, mind you, not helped or wrote or anything. If you fail me on this one, it won't be my fault."

"Are you insinuating I'd give you a bad grade just because I dislike you?" Snape asked icily.

"Yes," Harry snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry. Leaving the common room is getting harder and harder. You know it's only three months until graduation, right? That's all I've got. I want to—goddammit!" He changed in agony, screaming and hissing the whole time.

"I think I might have something for you to try in an hour or two."

Harry was coiled with his head safely tucked away. "No 'thinks' or 'mights'," he hissed. "Not after last time."

"I'll reinforce the protection charms," Snape said. "You won't be able to get out."

"That's what you said last time."

"No, last time we weren't planning for a potential breakout," Snape replied. "Now we'll be prepared."

"I don't like it."

"Would you prefer to never test again?" Snape asked.

Harry slammed his tail down. "No."

"And be careful. You're right next to the couches."

Using his tail as a guide, Harry moved himself into a corner. "Well be careful," he said. "And last time you didn't try Imperius or Cruciatus. Don't hold back."

"What didn't I try?"

"Unforgiveable curses."

"Still didn't catch it."

Harry hissed angrily, trying to think of another way to phrase it. "Three spells. Not the green one."

"You want me to use the torture curse?"

"No," Harry said, annoyed. "But you have my permission if you've got to."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now be quiet and let me work."

Harry stayed silent for maybe five minutes. "Can you excuse me from Charms? I only got halfway through and I can't write like this."

"No," Snape replied. "You would have had time if you had managed your time better."

"You mean by managing my changes?" Harry asked sarcastically. "If I could do that, this wouldn't be an issue."

"If you hadn't gotten drunk you would have had all of Saturday night."

Harry fell into silence. "I needed it," he started, trying to decide how much to say. "I was being responsible, drinking with a professor, not doing any homework."

"Did you just call Firewhiskey responsible?" Snape asked.

Harry shifted his tail. "Yes."

"Then you are quite dull indeed."

"Well you held me," he burst out.

A long pause. "I didn't catch that, and I need to focus."

"Liar," Harry snapped. "But fine, deny it, you masochistic bastard. You love people hating you."

"Still don't know what you said."

Harry figured that was true. They hadn't covered masochism. "Your best side," he said instead. "And your insistence on keeping it hidden."

"Potter, be quiet. I wasn't lying, I have to focus. This is delicate work, as you well know."

Harry twitched his tail. He had an urge, quite possibly suicidal, to continue the conversation, but he really, really didn't want this potion to be as much of a failure as last time. He forced himself into silence, though he was unable to control the anxious swishing of his tail. He was trying not to get his hopes up, really trying, but what if it worked this time? What if he wasn't a danger anymore? It was too much to ask for, especially after only a few weeks in between this one and the last. It wouldn't work, there was no way it would work.

But what if it did?

It felt like forever until Snape spoke again. "Okay, I'm ready."

Harry's heart kicked into overdrive. "Are you sure?"

"No," Snape replied. "I never am. Must we list the dangers again?"

"No," Harry echoed. "Have you got the rat ready?"

"Yes, everything is ready, I told you," Snape replied, annoyed. "Close your eyes, turn around, and open your mouth."

Harry did. The potion tasted like raspberry scones, which was either proof Snape did have a sense of humor or a sign he was cracking up and mixed his breakfast in with the potion.

"Scones away," Harry said.

"Don't use words I don't know at a time like this," Snape said angrily. Also nervously, Harry thought.

"I've swallowed," Harry said instead.

"Good." There were footsteps as Snape moved from in front of him to behind. "Open your eyes."

Harry did. There was a rat in a cage in front of him, like always. He nearly jumped for joy when the rat didn't turn to stone, but then he realized that it wasn't facing him, and thus not looking into his eyes.

"It's not looking at me."

Snape muttered angrily. "Imperius."

The rat turned obediently. Harry stared at it. It stared back. It sniffed the air.

"Snape!" Harry yelled. "Snape, it's not stone!"

"What is it doing?"

"Sniffing," Harry said. "You probably don't know that. Um, moving nose air."

"Sniffing?"

"Yeah." The rat continued to sniff the air, then turned back around and curled up in a corner. "Jesus fucking Christ Merlin's balls it worked!"

"On rats," Snape said. "We have no data on humans. Were those swears, or something important?"

"Swears," Harry answered, excitement dripping away. "How're we supposed to test it on humans?"

"I hadn't gotten that far," Snape admitted. "Go back to your corner and close your eyes so I can examine the rat."

Harry did, and there was a lot of squeaking as Snape investigated.

"Well?" Harry asked eventually. "Any stone?"

"I'm still working," Snape replied. "I'll tell you when I'm done."

Harry swished his tail impatiently. Snape was never going to be done, he'd just sit here in his corner forever, staring at the wall, until he died of old age. There was even more squeaking, and then a flash of green light, and then silence. Harry's stomach clenched. "Don't use that," he said.

"It was quick and painless and necessary," Snape replied without a hint of sympathy. "There is no extra damage, nothing to change the state of the rat. I'm sorry if I've offended your delicate sensibilities."

"Like how you broke down when you found my mum dead?" Harry asked angrily. "Yeah, sure, I'll just forget about that."

Snape paused. "I am sorry. I should have warned you."

"Yeah," Harry said, though his anger abated with the genuine apology. His tail was still jerking more than swishing, but that was a surprisingly good way of relieving tension. Tail whipping, who knew?

After another eternity, Snape finally spoke again. "I believe it worked," he said, sounding a bit awed. "Not a trace of stone. I thought there would be incremental increases, I never thought we would go from nothing to complete success, especially after last time."

"Now what?" Harry asked, bubbling with excitement and nerves. "Who're you going to sacrifice to the test? Can it be Malfoy?"

"I don't know who you suggested, and I don't care to," Snape replied. "You will test on me."

"No," Harry said immediately. "No, absolutely not. You're the only one who can brew, I need you alive."

"I am also the only wizard who would be crazy enough to volunteer for such a position," Snape replied smoothly. Almost smoothly, Harry amended. There was a distinct shake to his voice. "Go ahead. Turn around."

"No," Harry repeated. "No, no, no."

Snape sighed irritably. "What, then? Are rats not used as human analogues in muggle experiments?"

"Well, yes," Harry admitted. "But no."

"So you're just going to stay in the corner for the rest of your life?"

"How do we know how long the potion lasts?" Harry asked. "We need to do a series of tests. A new rat every half hour."

Snape considered. "You have a point. Very well, stay where you are. I will keep an eye on the time."

"Can I have the dead rat?" Harry asked. "I don't care if it's eviscerated, it smells delicious."

"Fine," Snape said distastefully, throwing the rodent into Harry's corner, where he quickly devoured it.

"Mm," Harry sighed. "Delicious."

"What's that?" Snape asked. "I know you wanted to eat it, but I missed half the sentence."

"Delicious," Harry repeated slowly. "Tastes good. Yum. Uh, good food."

"Say it one more time."

"Delicious," he hissed. "The other word was eviscerated. Torn apart."

"Again, one more time.

"Eviscerated," Harry said. He knew they were trying to distract themselves from waiting, and he was just fine with that. "You try. Both of them."

"Delicious eviscerated?" Snape asked. "How delightful." Then he slipped into Parseltongue, and it only took a few times before he had perfected it.

"You're getting much better," Harry said. "What next? What's useful?"

"You say you still have your Charms essay to go," Snape replied. "Dictate it to me. I can copy the chicken scratch you call writing with ease."

"Um, okay," Harry said. "It's in my bag. I'll need my book, and my notes. And for you to read me the last paragraph, I don't remember where I was."

"The last what?" he asked, going through Harry's bag.

"Paragraph," Harry said again. "A group of words."

"Fine."

Dictating was extremely slow, but it was distracting.

"Time's up. I'm getting you a new rat."

"Okay," Harry said, stomach turning. Maybe that rat hadn't been a good idea. Merlin this was terrifying. There were a few minutes of shuffling and squeaking, and then Snape gave the all clear.

One eye at a time, Harry opened his eyes. This time the rat was facing him, held still by tiny ropes. He stared at it. The rat stared back. Then it started squeaking and wriggling against its bindings.

"Another live one!" Harry exclaimed. "This is brilliant! Snape, you're amazing."

"I'm holding you to that," Snape said, though there was a smile in his voice. "Close your eyes." The examination took much less time or, more likely, Harry was too excited to feel time pass. "It's fine," Snape said, and yes, he sounded just as excited as Harry felt. "Absolutely perfect, except for the killing curse. Do you care to feed on this delicious evisceration?" He slipped into Parseltongue on the last few words, and Harry laughed in delight.

"Absolutely."

Then back to Charms, which was entirely mundane. Like Defense, and pretty much all of his other classes, Charms was focused on theory, and Harry had to teach Snape works like semicircle and zigzag and, most difficultly, mid-air. It took a lot of frustration before Snape figured out what he was talking about, and by then it was time to get another rat. Harry swished about excitedly, and slithered into position before Snape finished setting up, eyes clamped closed.

"Go ahead."

Harry's eyes flew open. Again, the rat was tied in position with ropes. It squeaked once, then wriggled a little, and then its whiskers turned grey and fell off with a thump. Then its eyes went, which sent it into hysterics, wriggling madly, and that seemed to speed up the process, and a few seconds later it was entirely stone.

"No," Harry said. "Not instantaneous, but no."

"Not what?" Snape asked.

"Immediate?" Harry tried. "It lasted a few seconds."

"Then we will give you another dose, and check in fifteen minute increments after the first half hour," Snape said. "I need to brew another batch, so we have to wait until tomorrow."

"It only takes a night?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Snape replied. "Now get back to your corner, I have work to do."

Harry curled up very happily. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe everything was going to be okay. Maybe. Eventually he calmed down enough to get a couple hours of sleep before he changed back, jerking awake with a pained hiss as he contracted back into human form.

"Do you need help?" Harry asked, all but sprinting over to the table. "What can I do?"

"The cherry pits," Snape said. "Halve them as messily as you did before. Apparently your inability to handle a knife correctly is finally working in your favor."

"Brilliant," Harry said, grabbing a handful of pits and slicing away. Halfway through he jumped up, ran over to the other side of the table and, at the last second, checked himself. Snape was chopping something gross-looking very closely, and Harry didn't want to interrupt him.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked, not looking up from his work.

"I just—never mind," Harry said, flushing a little. "It's not important."

Snape sighed, set the knife down, and looked at Harry. "What?"

Now that Harry had a minute to think it over, he was much more hesitant. "Er—"

"Out with it."

Harry pulled him into a sudden hug. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Snape jerked away, then seemed resigned to the embrace and patted Harry awkwardly on the shoulder. "You're welcome. Now get off me and finish with those cherry pits."

"Yes," Harry said, immediately pulling away. "Yup, uneven cherry pits all the way. How many do you need?"

Snape checked his notes. "Ten and a half."

"Got it." Harry practically bounced through the chopping. A chance glance at the common room, and his stomach dropped. "I need to finish Charms."

"Go."

"It won't delay the potion?"

"Perhaps, but you need to keep your marks up," Snape said, and that sounded suspiciously like he cared about Harry's education. "If you have time when you've finished your essay, you may milk the Inland Taipan."

Harry groaned. "Y'know, I think this paper might take me the rest of the night. And I could use a nap. Plus breakfast." Then he broke into a sunny grin. "Then again, milking isn't so bad."

"Stop babbling, Potter, and do your essay," Snape said. "After that we'll see."

The essay flew by, and Harry was back at the bench what seemed like minutes later. As soon as he sat down without anything specific for his eyes to focus on, his vision doubled and his eyelids drooped.

"Go to bed," Snape said. "You're of no use to me like this. Come down early tomorrow, if you like. When is your last class?"

"Four," Harry said with a yawn. "I should do homework until dinner, though, and maybe after too, depending. I'll be down as soon as I can."

"Fine," Snape replied. "Get some sleep."

"Yeah," Harry sighed, heading into his room. Then he poked his head out. "How're you on Pepper Up? I can get some from Slughorn or Madame Pomfrey if we're low."

Snape checked. "If you can avoid suspicion, it wouldn't hurt anything."

"M'kay. G'night."

"Sleep well."

That was different, but they were both in a brilliant mood, and perhaps some of last night's drinking was still lingering. "Brew well," Harry said with a smile before retreating into his room. He'd check with Neville about the mandrakes in the morning, but he was so excited not even the idea of slow-growing mandrakes was enough to dampen his mood. They'd get there sooner or later. Everything was going to be fine.