Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Beta'ed by SevenTines.

Potter sat at the Gryffindor table, eating his supper mechanically. He had been ignoring his partners-in-crime for over a week now. Under ordinary circumstances, Severus Snape didn't care what the brat did; by not conspiring with his friends, the amount of chaos he caused was significantly less. Unfortunately, these were not ordinary circumstances and Harry Potter was apparently the only one who could vanquish the Dark Lord. The headmaster had informed him this afternoon that the greatest weapon Potter had against the most powerful dark wizard in over a century was the love and affection of those same, rule-breaking friends. Then, he had asked him, along with Minerva and Hagrid, to see if they couldn't convince the boy to accept their friendship and support again. Severus had sneered and let the others handle it; he didn't think Potter would take kindly to his least favourite professor giving him advice.

Over the next week, Severus observed the boy in Potions class and at mealtimes. Since he no longer had to teach Potter Occlumency, those were the only times he regularly saw him. As time progressed, even he became more and more alarmed. Potter's friends had apparently given up on him, he didn't appear to be eating much of anything and he even seemed apathetic towards his beloved Quidditch. The only place he seemed improved was in class; his marks were climbing rapidly and the other teachers said the same. Minerva had been unable to reach him; he was polite, respectful . . . and completely ignored everything she said. Severus started to worry—about the war, not the boy.

He tried calling on Potter in class and ridiculing him when he got the answer wrong. Potter rarely got the answers wrong these days and, when he did, he just ignored the ridicule as he did everything else. Severus tried assigning an essay so difficult, on such an arcane subject, that only Granger and Malfoy would be able to complete it without help. Potter's essay wasn't as good as theirs, but it was more than adequate. Severus even tried insulting Black. That was a little more successful: Potter showed no change in expression, but two pewter cauldrons exploded. Severus decided that a more reasoned-out approach was needed. The kind of power it had taken to explode those cauldrons was immense; he didn't want a very angry, unusually powerful, adolescent wizard throwing anything worse than accidental magic at him. In fact, he really could have done without that display: they'd been two of his best plain cauldrons.

"Why are you so concerned?" Minerva asked him when he went to her with his concerns. "Don't insult Sirius and your cauldrons are safe."

"That's not the point," Severus said. "The Dark Lord is getting bolder; the next series of attacks are going to be much worse, and much more public. I understand Potter is not yet ready to stand against him, but it needs to be as soon as possible. And I'm now in agreement with the headmaster that he cannot do what he must without his friends." He sighed and asked a question he had been hoping to avoid. "What about Lupin?"

Her lips thinned. "Remus got an apology at the beginning of the summer and a promise he would never be that stupid or careless again. Harry hasn't spoken to anyone, except to answer questions, since. And he actively avoids Remus."

"He's shutting everyone out," Professor Dumbledore agreed as he walked into Minerva's office. "No one's been able to get him to tell us why. We can all make guesses, of course, but we don't know."

Severus nodded. It sounded as if there were one of two things going on: either Potter couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else, or he was trying to protect those he cared for by distancing himself from them. Probably both.

Wanting to ensure that his next approach worked, and that he lost no more cauldrons to Potter's temper, he spent a full day considering his next move. The next day, he had the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins for double Potions last thing in the day. Potter, as was his current custom, sat alone in the last desk of the room. He didn't appear to hear a word Severus said in his lecture but his potion, when he handed it in, was perfect. As the class was leaving, Severus called out, "Mr. Potter, stay."

Looking resigned, Potter stopped just inside the door. Severus waited for the other students to leave before he asked Potter to join him in the front of the classroom, next to the sinks. "Do you know why you're here?" Severus asked him sternly.

"No, sir," Potter said, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Thanks to the prophecy, you're apparently the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord," Snape stated flatly. "I know the Headmaster has told you this, but you are doing nothing to prepare. In fact, you appear to be doing precisely the opposite and making yourself less able to perform your assigned task."

"What?" The blank, apathetic look was finally off Potter's face. He was clearly incredulous.

"Every time you have defeated the Dark Lord, in however small a way, you have done so due to the assistance of others," Snape said. "By distancing yourself from everyone, you close yourself off from their assistance, however brainless it may be."

"Better that than I get them killed," Potter said bitterly.

Severus pushed Potter against the wall, looming over the boy with every bit of intimidation he possessed. "Instead, you would get us all killed," he snarled, "or enslaved. Is that what you want, you arrogant brat? Now, you will go back and repair your friendships with those idiots. That will likely require little effort on your part as everyone grants you whatever whim runs through your mind . . ."

Potter shoved him away. "You have no idea what . . . "

"And I don't care." Severus pushed Potter harder, using his greater height and bulk to pin him. "Then, you will accept any training the Headmaster decides to give you with whatever teachers he chooses. Including, if necessary, Occlumency lessons with me. Is that understood? Otherwise, you will have to answer to me."

He sneered down at Potter to find himself transfixed. Potter's eyes were wide and dark with fear. Severus could see the stubble on Potter's cheeks and chin, no longer peach fuzz but the true beginnings of a beard. He could smell Potter, too, sweat and soap and the ingredients they had been working with and—something else he couldn't identify. He could feel him trembling underneath him and . . . No, there were many lines, especially with this brat, he would cross without hesitation but not this one. Potter was still a child, his student and very much under his protection.

Severus pulled away. "You know what you must do, Mr. Potter." As the boy turned to go, he added impulsively, "Read John Donne's Meditation Number Seventeen. Finding that here should keep you out of trouble for a little while." When Potter didn't move, Severus snapped, "You may leave."

Potter was quiet at dinner that night but, when Weasley leaned over to say something to him, as he did most nights, Potter answered briefly instead of snapping. Severus kept a close eye for the next few days. He still wasn't as cheerful or talkative as he had been even last year, but he did seem to be talking to his friends as he had before. When Minerva asked him what he done to bring the boy out of his shell, he told her simply, "I told him to stop it or he'd have me to deal with. His choice is obvious."

"Only you," Minerva chuckled, shaking her head fondly.

The next morning at breakfast, Professor Dumbledore gave him the only reward he truly wanted, "Thank you, dear boy, and well done."

That crisis settled, Severus went back to his normal routine, pushing all thoughts of Potter out of his mind. This state of affairs, unfortunately, only lasted two weeks. One day, after his Potions class, Potter stayed after the other students left.

"What is it?" Severus snapped as Potter walked up to him. And found himself up against the same wall he had had Potter against before.

"Sir, I read that poem you told me to and thought about it . . ."

"You can think?" Severus sneered.

"It's a close approximation, anyway," Potter grinned at him. "It seems that you ignore it much more than I ever did. It also seems that you wanted something else that day."

Severus felt like panicking. He hadn't realised the boy had picked up on his interest. "Rules are rules," Severus insisted, "and that has no part in anything."

"Oh, I think it does," Potter said, advancing. He didn't have the height or weight to be able to loom effectively, but his presence was still interfering with Severus's ability to think. "That day, I realised a couple of things. One of them, of course, was that you were completely right. I've gone to Professor Dumbledore and asked for comprehensive tutoring in battle and defensive magics. I think you may be one of the tutors working with me." Potter's eyes were wide, but Severus could no longer fool himself that they were dark with fear. "I think we might be able to find areas of . . . common interest, shall we say?" He pushed Severus against the wall hard enough that Severus could feel his erection against him.

Realising what was about to happen, Severus's brain was able to overcome the lust that had been interfering with his reason and common sense. He pushed Potter away from him roughly, and moved away from the wall. "I am well aware, Mr. Potter, that you do not even give lip service to the rules; however, I do. What you appear to be suggesting is not only against the rules but also highly improper. It is nothing more nor less than abuse and, if I discovered any teacher at this school indulging in such behaviour, I would report them and have them sent to Azkaban immediately. Yes, even myself," he insisted, seeing the boy about to argue. "It will not happen."

Potter looked disappointed, gratifyingly so, but then his shoulders squared and he looked Severus square in the eye. "Because I'm underage or because I'm your student?"

"Both. Now . . ."

"Then," Potter overrode him, "here's what will happen. I will haunt you. I will continue to make advances to you until someone will decide you must be encouraging me and have you up on charges." As Severus took a deep breath in preparation for a roar, Potter continued, "Unless . . ."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" asked Severus, intrigued in spite of himself.

"You take your own advice. I never see you talking with anyone except strictly for business. You never seem to socialize with any of the other teachers, you don't even stay to eat with the Order when you're there at Grimmauld Place, and I don't believe you're chatting up your old buddies in Voldemort's camp. Stop behaving like an island and I'll leave you alone." Then, with a rather smug smirk, he continued, "Until I'm out of school here. Then, we'll talk again."

Severus stared at him. He would, of course, go directly to the Headmaster and report this entire conversation and Potter's threat. He would not be sacked for something he had not done and would not do. Unfortunately, he could hear the Headmaster now, "Yes, dear boy, I'll have a chat with Harry. What he's threatening is completely improper; I'll put a stop to that at once. He's right about the other, though; I've been saying so for years. Why don't you stay and have supper after the next Order meeting? Molly would love to feed you properly." Then, he would be offered tea and cakes and be given no choice and no way out. At least, by giving in to Potter's blackmail, he would have some control over things.

"Mr. Potter, that sounds almost Slytherin," he said as he smirked at the boy, making his decision.

"Professor Snape, if it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy reminding me entirely too much of my cousin, I would have been in Slytherin," Potter said and smirked back, looking entirely too satisfied.

Severus stared at Potter in shock. Apparently, he had one more reason to dislike the Malfoy boy. He held out his hand. "I do believe we have a deal," he said. When Potter made to shake his hand, he confirmed, "Both ways."

"Both ways," Potter agreed. "Until I'm of age, out of school and we can have this conversation on its merits."

Very aware of Potter's eyes on him, he accepted Minerva's next, expected offer to tea. She was shocked but seemed delighted when he presented himself at her quarters that Sunday afternoon. They had a delightful time slandering each other's students, arguing over House points and the recent Quidditch match between their houses.

The next time he needed Potions ingredients from the greenhouse, he went down in person to discuss them with Pomona. While talking to her, he discovered he would be able to obtain some of the rarer ingredients he used, much fresher than his normal supplier. And, in talking to the Herbology professor, he discovered he knew of a better blend of nutrient solution than she was using; he promised to have his third years brew some for her and send it down. After he'd carefully tested it, of course.

He wasn't at all comfortable staying after an Order meeting to eat with the other members; he tried to limit his time in Grimmauld Place as much as he could. However, after one meeting, he found himself in such an enjoyable technical conversation with the Weasley twins that he followed them to their shop and spent one dismal Saturday evening in surprising enjoyable shop talk.

A month after their agreement, Potter stayed after Potions again. "Our agreement, Mr. Potter," Severus reminded him.

"I wouldn't break it for the world," Potter said, standing a respectable distance away. "I wanted to let you know I've both seen and heard you keeping your end of the bargain and we'll talk again in July a year from now." He nodded and left the room.

Severus could only believe Potter had spoken to Dumbledore. The Headmaster had commented on his new habits, twinkling merrily away. Severus had mumbled something about a bargain with Potter and escaped as quickly as possible, not at all in the mood for tea with the old man.

The battle was fierce and much more chaotic than could be believed. Severus had long since lost track of anyone other than the person he was fighting at that moment. He had taken far too many curses, many from those allied with the Order who didn't realise he was on their side, and was slowly losing hope. The Death Eaters seemed to be winning and, if they did, the Order would be able to do nothing but fight a rebellion. They would almost certainly have lost.

Potter and the Dark Lord had both been out of sight, probably in very different areas. Hogsmeade was looking ragged, all who were not part of the battle hiding in terror in their homes or running futilely for their lives. Just as Severus was about to lose any ability to fight, with Lucius Malfoy bearing down on him, he caught sight of the two main combatants.

The duel that followed would be talked about for years to come. Potter was still growing into his full powers, but even now, he was a formidable opponent. The Dark Lord, of course, was believed to be second only to Albus Dumbledore in power, but Dumbledore was somewhere else and it was Potter alone who fought him. Then, Severus realized that it wasn't Potter alone fighting; there were two red heads and one of bushy brown nearby. They weren't duelling the Dark Lord directly, but they were protecting Potter, allowing him to focus on his crucial, central fight. With all of his attention on Lucius, Severus could only see bits of what followed, so he didn't know how Potter finally got within the Dark Lord's protections and struck the killing blow. He knew it had occurred when the Dark Mark in his arm, the symbol of his stupidity and the worst mistake of his life, flared into burning heat. The pain quickly took over, as it did every other Death Eater in the battle. He could feel himself losing consciousness; feel his heart beating hard enough to burst.

And, as the world finally went black around him, he heard Potter shouting, "No! We have to save him!"

"Foolish boy," he thought, no longer able to speak, "it's all right now. My debt is paid."

"Ennervate!"

" . . . mouth open . . ."

" . . . losing . . ."

Quiet. Blessed peace and quiet.

" . . . NEWTs . . ."

" . . . foxglove . . . "

" . . . Annual Potions' . . . "

" . . . forbidding mourning . . . "

" . . . Order of Merlin, First Class . . ." the Headmaster.

" . . . latest Quarterly Potions' Journal; it doesn't look like you've read it . . ." Granger.

"You're sure he can't have soup?" Molly Weasley?

" . . . of golden sands, and crystal brooks, with silken lines, and silver hooks." Potter?

" . . . your notes were clear; the boy didn't deserve to pass." Minerva.

" . . . cut it up fer ye; Hermione says it'll be dead useful for ye . . ." Hagrid?

" . . . to enter in these bonds, is to be free, . . ." Potter.

" . . . thought they'd wake him up . . ." one of the Weasley twins.

" . . . no more Potions periodicals; here's one on Charms . . ." Granger.

" . . . Seeker wasn't quite ready, but you've got a good shot for next year." Ron Weasley?

" . . . Heads can't earn points, or Slytherin would have had a good chance . . ." Minerva gloating. Again.

"Go and catch a falling star, get with child a mandrake root, . . . " Potter. If that was his copy of Donne, Potter had better be taking good care of it.

" . . . some clean pyjamas for you, dear." Dear Merlin, tell me Molly hasn't adopted me!

" . . . more periodicals. How about this one?" Granger had better not have thrown out the ones she's read; I don't remember a word. Do I?

"I was hoping you might recommend me for an apprenticeship. With Father dead and Mother, well, I'm making my own way now." Best thing to ever happen to Draco; have to wake up; there's some rotten apples out there.

"Death be not proud, though some have called . . ."

"Enough!" Severus had finally had enough; he wasn't going to listen to that one. His voice sounded clogged and he couldn't quite sit up, but he got his eyes open. There Potter was, sitting beside his bed in the damned Hospital Wing, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Potter yelled for the school nurse.

She bustled up and shooed Potter away. "His waking up is a good sign, but he's not out of the woods yet," she told him.

Potter seemed undeterred. "Severus, school's out and I'm of age. Once you're out of here, we need to talk." He turned and walked away.

"Can you keep me here forever?" Severus asked, only half joking. Poppy just laughed at him.

The bits of poetry Harry is reading to Severus are all written by John Donne. In order, they are from: "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning", "The Bait", "Elegy XIX: To His Mistress Going to Bed", "Song", and "Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud".