AN/Disclaimer: Don't own, don't ask, don't sue. My plan is to post another chapter (when I finish it) that shows how Snape's servitude to Voldemort changes after Dumbledore is killed. Yeah...thanks for reading.

While you make pretty speeches
I'm being cut to shreds
You feed me to the lions
A delicate balance...
--Radiohead, "Like Spinning Plates"

"Tea, Severus? Or perhaps you'd like a lemon drop to go with that rather nasty head wound?" Albus Dumbledore sat in a garishly patterned armchair, conspicuously out-of-place in Snape's dreary, dust-ridden house on Spinner's End. He held his own teacup in his long white fingers and peered at the younger man inquiringly over his half-moon spectacles.

Snape's face, blood-spattered and pale, shone eerily in the dark house, and Dumbledore could see his hands shaking with a mixture of surprise and rage. "How did you get in here?" Snape asked quietly, dangerously. "How did you get past –"

"Your wards?" Dumbledore finished. "I admit that they gave me, er, a bit of trouble…not that I expected anything less from you. And you gave me the counterspells a few months ago – do you not remember, Severus?"

Snape did not answer. He moved slowly into the light shed by the candles hovering near Dumbledore's head, his dark eyes glittering strangely. The deep gash on his forehead was ringed by coagulating blood and sweat.

"Why, Albus? Why did you come? So you could pity me?" Snape spat the words viciously out, his voice rising, his hands balled into trembling fists. The pain and weariness that had been etched on his face gave way to anger and cold contempt.

Dumbledore stared at him sadly. "Do you not understand, Severus, that no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you are alone and unlovable, inevitably there are people who care for you? Is that really so strange?"

The pale man had no answer, though his shoulders slumped in deference.

Dumbledore continued. "At Hogwarts, I always wait in your quarters after Voldemort has summoned you. It never seemed to distress you."

"This is my home," Snape responded tiredly. "You had no right –"

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. Noticing that the younger man's strength was failing – after all, Severus was agreeing with him, never a good sign – he stood up quickly and motioned to the nearby steps. "I suggest we move upstairs and see to things before you topple over and damage this lovely rug. We have much to discuss."

Snape stiffened, unwilling to receive any help from the old professor in his own house, and led the way, though his steps were uncertain and his hand traced the wall for support.

"As you know, the new term starts next week," Dumbledore began as they mounted the stairs together. "Now that Voldemort has returned – physically returned – strict security measures are in place. But…I have a special favor to ask of you."

"Potter, again?" Snape muttered darkly, though his lips seemed to twitch into a wry smile. "Haven't I been through enough tonight?"

Dumbledore looked sharply at him and asked, "Was Voldemort more ruthless than usual, Severus?"

"Nothing that I haven't experienced before," Snape answered hesitantly. "But he was…less than pleased that I failed to bring him news of the Order."

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence as they passed into Snape's bedroom. The less-than-lucid man dropped heavily onto his unkempt bed while Dumbledore gathered the healing potions Snape had prepared for the occasion.

"I believe you were saying something about Potter, sir," Snape said after rapidly downing the contents of several vials. The topic seemed to come up in conversation at the beginning of every school year.

"Ah, yes. I will be absent from Hogwarts for a good deal of the year – to look for the Horcruxes, namely – and I need you to look after Harry while I am gone."

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape emphasized the second syllable with a good-natured smirk. The covert cheerfulness drained out of his face as suddenly as it appeared. Holding Dumbledore's gaze with bright eyes, he added quietly, "I will protect him with my life."

"I know," the aged professor answered simply.

Their discussion about the new term continued for some time before Snape swallowed his last potion, which threw him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Dumbledore stayed by his side, studying the younger man's shiny hair, hawkish nose, and unfathomable expression. As the first glimmer of sunlight streaked into the old house, he repeated Snape's words: "I will protect you with my life."