Harry stood gazing at the mouth of the cave, shoulder to shoulder with his teacher. The mouth of it loomed blackly and invitingly across the rough, dramatic sea. It seemed that even the weather was affected by the steady thrum of power Harry could feel from the cave. It made him shiver to think that only a year ago he would have been oblivious even to this. He and Severus had broomsticks and they mounted them now. Severus took of first, and although he was obviously no Quiddich player, he was surprisingly graceful in the air. Harry kicked off after him and they were level within seconds. Severus shot him an exhilarated smile which made Harry's heart turn over.

Together they shot into the blackness, igniting their wands, and slowed down as they entered a passageway. They followed the thrum until they hit a wall, and Harry pulled out his little vial of blood. He dripped a little on and the door hissed, as though hot before drawing aside. They floated in. They found themselves in a partially lit round chamber full of water with only a narrow walkway around the edge to where they could see a boat moored. In the centre was the island, and on it was the source of light, a big stone bowl. Severus gave the boat one scornful look and flew warily across the lake. Harry determinedly did not look down at the inferi he knew would be gazing up at him from the water. When on the island, they took off their packs. From his, Harry pulled a length of wire which he had prepared. It would burn fiercely all the way along, and Harry proceeded to arrange it around the island before lighting it. It would provide a safety net for himself and Severus, and also warmth – the cave was cold and damp. Then Harry pulled out a tiny bottle of water, and enlarged it to its original side. It was the size of a small barrel with a straw in the side, like a beer tap, which Severus could drink from when he had taken the potion. Then Harry looked up. Severus was draining the last of his sticky black potion which looked, smelled and apparently tasted fowl, from the face Severus was making. Then, together, they approached the bowl.

Typically without preamble, Severus picked up the glass, filled it from the bowl and mock-toasted Harry with a sarcastic incline of his head. Then, as though as a second thought he reminded Harry,

"You remember I must drink it all. Even if I beg you not to give me anymore, you must keep forcing me to drink it, alright Harry?" Harry swallowed and nodded. Here came the test. Severus knocked back his goblet full of clear liquid in one shot, shuddered heart-wrenchingly and dipped his hand into the liquid for another. Harry stood helplessly by as Severus dispatched three more glasses in the same way. But his strength was waning. Harry could see that. He wanted to snatch the goblet from Severus' hand and drink it himself. But he knew if he did he would die, and he couldn't die yet. So instead, he steeled himself.

"Come on Severus, another." Severus was half-slumped, panting over the bowl, as though he was about to throw up. Harry approached him and laid a hand on his back.

"Make it stop," Severus groaned; his face set and livid with pain. Harry dipped the goblet in for the fifth time. Severus had drunk a lot already; more than half. He held it out to Severus who drank it like a baby before collapsing onto the ground. Harry refilled the goblet and it scraped the bottom. The next one would be the last. If Severus could hold out. Is Harry could hold out. He knelt down and made Severus sit up, letting him slump against his arm, tipping his head back to force him to drink.

"No!" Severus cried, turning his head away, "Please, not more. Voldemort can have my soul, it's not worth…"

"Can he have mine too, Severus? If you don't drink, he will." Harry hated himself. But Severus drank, screaming with pain when he had gulped it down. Harry was shaking by the time he returned with the locket and the last goblet. He propped Severus up again, trying to block out the shuddering, the moans… "Come on Severus, last one. This will make it better. Please, Severus, for me. Drink." Severus became still, looking at Harry. He almost seemed to get a grip on himself. Then he snatched the goblet and dispatched the last drop before Harry could ask again. Then he turned away and crawled mutely towards the barrel of water. He drank deeply and long, and then lay back on the rock.

"I am nearly recovered," he said hoarsely. Harry nodded shakily. He shrank the water back to miniature and repacked it. He cleared up everything else, took the letter out of his pocket and dropped it in the bowl. Then he went and sat by Severus until he was ready to go. They flew back over the ring of fire and water slowly, using another few drops of Harry's blood to exit. Harry apparated them back to just outside the castle grounds and they walked through the gates and up to the castle in exhausted but triumphant silence.

HP/SS

Severus wandered around for the next day in a dream. He failed to notice that a third year dared to whisper to their partner in his class, and deducted a mere fifty points from Gryffindor in the whole day! He didn't know what to think. One moment he'd be cursing himself for spoiling the boy forever with his own selfish desires, and the next he'd catch sight of Harry out of the windows, or in the great hall and the terrified knot of guilt in his stomach seemed to ease. Harry was still bright-eyed, laughing and handsome. His face was still full of intelligence and curiosity, not tainted as Severus felt they ought to be. He feared Harry would be there, waiting when he got back to his new rooms. Perhaps he would be stretched out wantonly on Severus' bed, reaching out with those little, child's hands. But he was not. The hallowed chamber was as silent as the grave: just the way Severus liked it.

He went over to his drinks cabinet, poured himself a whiskey (gin reminded him too much of Harry) and sat, pondering in his chair. A taste of heaven. A big, solid dose. It was hard to believe now that it had even happened. For a few minutes he thought about it from an almost academic distance, weighing out right and wrong, but within a few minutes, the images rushing through his head became more and more vivid and he groaned a low, soft groan, his head tipping back, pouring more of the spirit down his throat.

HP/SS

Harry, Ron and Hermione were the last ones in the common room, as usual. The fire had burned low. Ron was almost asleep, his eyes drifting open occasionally to gaze at Hermione. She was bent over her work, but was writing at a very slow speed, and erased her last ten minutes' work regularly. Only Harry was truly absorbed in his task. He was wearing plastic gloves and turning a ring over and over in his hands, occasionally muttering and tapping it with his wand, constantly referring to the volumes around him. At that moment the portrait hole opened with a bang and they all jumped and turned around abruptly, the ring, the gloves and the books all disappearing in an instant.

A tall, thin, bat-like figure was framed in the portrait way. As Snape stalked into the room, Harry recognised the red in his eyes as the eyes of a drunk, and stood up, ready. But he was not prepared for what happened next. The dark, enraged man grabbed Harry roughly by the collar of his neck and pulled him close, tilting his head back painfully to look in his eyes. Harry gazed back, not frightened, knowing that his power far outstripped a drunken Snape, his hand loosely gripped around the wand in his pocket.

It was not necessary, however. After a few minutes Snape released Harry and swayed a little where he stood. Harry guided him into the chair he had just been occupying, transfigured the fire-iron into a glass and filled it with water magically. Snape drank gratefully. Then he turned to his gobsmacked friends.

"I'll be back in a sec, just gotta go grab a potion to sober him up. Keep him talking. Don't worry; he's too drunk to bite." Harry dashed up the stairs. Snape gave a little groan and held out his arm toward the stairs but Ron pushed him back.

"Stay there," he said firmly. "What are you doing here?"

"He…I had to know I wasn't….I hadn't…I hadn't spoiled him forever."

"Why?" Hermione barked with shocking aggression. "Why would you have spoiled him? What did you do?"

"I…he wanted…I couldn't help it…"

"That's enough, Severus," Harry said, his tone full of steel, returning with a small vial in his hands. Without preamble he jerked Snape's head back and forced the stuff down his throat. Snape coughed, blinked, and straightened. "You really need to stop school-night drinking," Harry said calmly, ignoring the shocked look on Ron's face, and the suspicious one on Hermione's.

"Potter, how dare you speak to me like that? I…"

"Save it. Come on, let's go back."

Harry managed to get them back into the Chamber of Secrets without being seen. Severus flopped in Harry's arms like a doll as Harry dressed him in a nightshirt and led him up to bed. Lying in bed, Severus watched Harry disappear out of sight into the bathroom and called out in protest, but Harry had only gone to get Severus a tub to throw up in. Severus reached for Harry when he sat on the bed, but Harry grabbed his arms, and Severus found Harry was too strong to overpower.

"Severus, we need to talk about this. I don't know what's wrong with you! The man I fell in love with is strong, dark, and grumpy, has a terrible temper, is in complete control of himself, and me too if he wanted to be."

It took Severus a few moments to process this last.

"I'm not sorry about what happened," Harry went on, "but right now you're a mess and that's not good enough for me. There's a lot we could do together but you need to wake up. I'm going to go back to my tower now, but when you're ready to be you again, let me know. I'll be here tomorrow night at eight."