Harry fidgeted nervously. He'd spent a bare two weeks at the Dursleys this year, just enough to really bring home to him all the reasons why he loathed them quite as much as he did, and now he was eagerly awaiting his escort back to the dubious comfort of 12 Grimmauld Place. Just before he'd left Hogwarts, Dumbledore had asked Harry up to his office for tea. Harry'd had a moment of blind panic when he saw Snape sitting in the other squashy armchair, before the professor had given him a reassuringly tiny ghost of a smile.

Dumbledore had then proceeded to outline why both of them losing their summer vacations would benefit all of mankind, during which Harry had eaten two tarts and exchanged numerous snide glances with Snape. Afterwards, Snape had explained that Harry was to help him keep the Headquarters for the Order, giving Lupin a much-needed break of his own, and would be sitting a small but significant schedule of classes with Snape, including the now-Headmaster-approved etiquette lessons.

At the moment, he was in his bed at 4 Privet Drive, watching the clock desperately and waiting for Snape to show up and remove him from this horrid little house forever. It had been decided that, for expediency's sake, Snape would Apparate them both to Diagon Alley, where they would pick up some supplies and then make their way to Headquarters through Muggle London. Harry was rather looking forward to the whole adventure, especially the bits where he got to snuggle into Snape's arms again to Apparate, and see Snape dressed in Muggle clothing on the Underground.

Too bad there was no real chance that Snape would go barefoot again. Harry rather treasured the memory of those agile toes against his skin, and had become more than a little obsessed with them over the course of the last two weeks. Of course, it didn't hurt that the only school book he'd kept out from his trunk, and consequently not had confiscated the moment he got to the Dursleys, was the little green one Snape had given him. It had turned out to be a very dry and nearly incomprehensible text on lubrication charms, proper preparation, and the surprisingly varied and nasty consequences of Doing It Wrong.

He'd got a lot more mileage out of Snape's feet than he had from the book, where it counted, at any rate. He'd also nearly managed to get his whole cockhead in his mouth, which wasn't nearly as fun as it sounded but might become so once he'd got himself properly limber. Still, he'd carefully hidden the book in his robes, intending to make sure Snape knew he was now quite read up on the four types of sodomy and the location of his prostate.

That last had also been a valuable tidbit, providing quite an interesting couple of baths, but he'd avoided it since discovering he had an alarming tendency to cry out when he nudged at it a little too enthusiastically. He had no desire whatsoever to explain to Aunt Petunia that he was perfectly fine and had only been having a nice wank while imagining being buggered by his Potions professor. He'd save that for his stay at Headquarters with Snape, who at least would sympathize, and possibly teach him a soundproofing spell.

As if the thought had conjured the man, Snape appeared at the foot of Harry's bed with the sharp crack of Apparition. "Hullo, Professor," said Harry casually, as if he hadn't just been working himself up over buggery. "I've read your book, thank you," he added when Snape merely nodded in response, standing and holding out the still-pristine green volume.

"I trust you found it educational?" said Snape, tucking the book in his robes and eyeing the room with distaste.

Harry managed just barely not to cringe, instead saying, "I've got my trunk and owl cage all ready to go." He pointed unnecessarily to the two objects in question; Hedwig had gone out yesterday to deliver letters to Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, and would look for him at Headquarters when she was done.

"So I see. Can you shrink them competently, or shall I?" said Snape, in what Harry private thought of as his Professor Voice: cold, cruel, and dripping with contempt.

"Can't. I'm underage, remember? And summer lessons don't officially start until Monday." He'd been given special dispensation to do magic during lessons, at least until his birthday, when he'd be of age and allowed to do any magic he wanted. Harry grimaced at the memory of his trial after the Dementor attack two summers back -- avoiding a repeat of that was worth looking a bit stupid in front of Snape.

Snape just nodded and performed the simple charm. Harry's possessions dwindled down to toy-sized, and Snape pocketed them before turning back to Harry. Harry flinched slightly under that uncompromising gaze; he hadn't had Potions on his last day of classes, and he wasn't prepared to see his dour Professor Snape instead of his clever, witty friend Severus. "Th-the Dursleys know I'm scheduled to leave now. I'm sure they're just waiting for the voices to quiet so they can sterilise the room," he stammered, suddenly feeling eleven years old and in trouble again.

Snape's features softened. "Come here, Harry," he said, his voice losing its edge as he held out a hand. "I find it takes me a moment or two to remember that I am no longer required to treat you as an errant child."

Harry grinned and stepped forward, ignoring the hand in favor of tucking himself carefully under Snape's arm, resting a hand on Snape's narrow hip. "Ready, sir."

Snape smirked, for once with real humour, and rested his arm across Harry's shoulder. "All right, hold tight. We'll appear in a room at the Leaky Cauldron, which we will also be sharing for the night. There are," he added, briefly resuming his Professor Snape scowl, "separate beds."

Harry grinned. "I wouldn't dream of it any other way, Professor."

Snape's arm tightened around his shoulders, and he felt the same wrenching dislocation that had accompanied his first experience with Apparition. He blinked away a sudden dryness in his eyes, and found them in a small, neat room with two narrow twin beds, separated by a single wide nightstand. "In private, you may call me Severus," said Snape, giving Harry's shoulder a final brief squeeze before stepping free of his embrace.

Harry's smile this time might have eclipsed the sun. Snape studiously ignored it, maintaining a stoic dignity as he restored Harry's things while Harry poked and prodded his way around the little room. There was a tiny private loo complete with three familiar-smelling bottles from Snape's bathroom, and Harry wished he'd been quite brave enough to smell Snape during their brief embrace. He had noticed that Snape's hair didn't have its customary lank greasiness to it, and wondered if it was the constant work with potions that caused the unfortunate hygiene problem.

"We have much to accomplish today, if you're quite through snooping around in my possessions?" called Snape.

Harry blushed and emerged, deciding to test out the flirtation thing again by saying, "Just wanted to know what your hair potion smelled like, sir, as I'm not allowed to smell your hair."

"Indeed, you are not," Snape replied, straightening his already immaculate robes. "I assume you also have some personal errands you would like to run during your single day of freedom?"

Harry stopped, stunned. He was going into Diagon Alley, not just on a quick trip for school supplies, but for a whole day, with Snape. Just two weeks ago, Harry would have considered this a sentence in Hell, but now it was an unexpected treat, even if he would be required to call him Professor while they were out in public. "I'd like to buy some clothes that fit, and..."

Harry paused. He knew he had a small fortune in his vault, but he had an idea that it was just that -- a small fortune. Not enough to live on forever unless he really scrimped, he thought, but honestly had no idea. He just wasn't familiar enough with what things cost in the Wizarding world to judge. "Er, would you visit my vault with me? I'll need money, and I'd like... I mean, if you're willing, I'd like a bit of advice."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain that I am the one you wish to consult for financial advice?"

Harry shrugged, feeling strangely vulnerable. "It's not like I've got anyone else to ask, is it?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "I will do this with you, but I will also ask you to allow me to arrange for certain members of the Order to speak with you over the course of the summer." His expression shuttered and he looked away as he continued haltingly, "I... have too much of a... personal interest in your future... decisions, to be comfortable as your sole counsel."

Harry moved forward, laying a hand on Snape's arm. He'd resumed his stern teacher pose, spine straight and hands behind his back, one scowl away from the man Harry had spent six years learning not to hate. Harry had no idea what he should say to that revealing statement, but then brilliant inspiration struck. "Well, it's a good thing I happen to have business with two successful young Wizarding entrepreneurs, now, isn't it?"

Harry waited, a bit breathless, for Snape to realize to whom he was referring. Snape started to scowl, and then, against all expectation, he smiled instead, an expression which never failed to transform his face completely, if only by its rarity. "I believe a visit to the brothers Weasley is in order, then."

"Ace!" said Harry enthusiastically. "Right. So, Weasleys first, then Gringott's, then clothes. Then you can drag me to whatever boring shops you'd like."

"I believe that it is also time for you to obtain permanent possession of this," said Snape, holding out a familiar small gold key. Harry took it reverently -- Dumbledore had always delivered Harry's vault key into the custody of whichever adult was shepherding Harry that year, first Hagrid and then Molly Weasley. This was the first time he'd ever actually held in his own hand the key to his parents' legacy, for whatever it was worth.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry quietly, carefully pocketing the treasure.

Snape gave Harry a penetrating look before turning and sweeping towards the door, quite a feat in a room this small. Harry followed obediently, waiting until they were in the hallway to say, "I appreciate everything you're doing for me, Professor, but most of all I'm glad you decided to be my friend."

Snape paused long enough for Harry to catch up and said, "You are quite welcome," before leading him down the stairs, through the magical gateway and out into the midmorning bustle of Diagon Alley.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was in a tiny storefront squeezed between a stationer's and a supplier of bulk potions ingredients. The sign outside kept changing typefaces, and occasionally a small display of fireworks would go off around it, drawing the attention of passersby. The shop itself was long and narrow, shelves crammed with strange objects in bins, a handwritten placard describing the effects of each trick or toy attached to the shelf in front of it. There was a glass case in back next to the register, full of strange food items like Canary Creams and Skiving Snackboxes.

Fred and George waved enthusiastically when they spotted Harry and Snape, and they made their way through the crowded little shop. Fred beckoned them into the back of the shop, saying brightly, "Come on, have a spot of tea. George and I can trade off chatting and working for a bit."

"It's really busy!" said Harry happily, overjoyed at the smiling faces and clink of money being handed over.

"Best investment you never made, eh?" said George, grabbing Harry for a quick hug as he passed.

Harry tried not to be startled by the new familiarity, instead relaxing into the embrace and whispering, "Got my owl, then?"

"And we'd be glad to help you out, however you'd like," he said quietly, breaking away to give a harried mother her change and packages. "Especially with practical demonstrations," he added, grinning mischievously.

Harry blushed. "I'd love that, but you'll have to come to Headquarters. I'm back in protective custody after today."

George's grin grew into a leer and he said softly, "Oh, I know you'd love it, wherever we do it. We'll make sure of that."

"Flirt," said Harry fondly, glancing at the crowd before pressing a shy kiss to George's cheek.

George looked stunned for a moment, hand half-raised to the spot where Harry's lips had just brushed, then he grinned and winked. "Off with you, now, before Fred manages to offend Snape."

Harry started to move away, but a thought struck him, and he turned back. "Er, he wasn't, y'know."

"Wasn't what?" asked George, carefully boxing Canary Creams for an excitable young man.

"Wasn't offended. He just... didn't think it was appropriate, I think," said Harry. "I could tell, because he blushed when he mentioned it."

George turned back, startled for the second time in as many minutes. His grin was a bit shakier this time as he said, "Imp. Watch yourself, or we'll steal him away from you."

It was Harry's turn to be surprised. He thought about the recent change in his relationship with Snape, and the way it must look from the outside. "That obvious, am I?" he said, chagrined.

"Only to those who know you," said George, winking and turning back to accept a pile of silver Sickles for the pastries. "Plus, your letter practically screamed it between the lines."

Harry blushed, and practiced the better part of valor by slipping through the door into the cluttered back room. It was piled high with boxes and bags, jars and bottles, all the backstock and ingredients needed for running a joke shop, at least in the Wizarding world. There was a work bench over to one side, and on the other a small table with four rickety chairs, on which Fred was now serving the tea.

Fred and Snape were, amazingly enough, talking quite congenially, and didn't seem to notice Harry's arrival. Harry let the door close out the noises of the shop behind him and was surprised to hear Snape say, "I must advise you that if you harm Harry in any manner..."

"Untraceable poisons, unending wrath, got it," said Fred, unconcerned. "Look, it's so obvious he's gone for you, anyway, I doubt we could do much to break his heart. That'll be your job."

Snape blushed slightly, and looked down at his steaming cup. "I do not believe I will be able to maintain as much fortitude with Harry as I exercised in regards to your own invitation."

Harry bit his lip to keep from intruding as Fred said quietly, "That offer's still open, you know, even if it's just until you can have who you really want." Fred grinned and winked, "After all, it's not like we'll be heartbroken when you drop us for Harry; we've already got the love of our lives."

Harry had suspected, but still found it shocking to see Fred admit to Snape of all people that he and George were lovers. "I was mortified when I caught the two of you in flagrante delicto," said Snape softly. "But moreso at my own reaction than the relationship between the two of you. Seeing you like that, it seemed so perfectly right, in a way nothing in my life has ever been."

"Until now," said Fred quietly, and Harry felt suddenly ashamed that he'd eavesdropped for so long.

"I won't mind if you take up with them, you know," said Harry, walking forward. He blushed at their stunned looks and mumbled, "Sorry, I heard you when I came in, but I didn't want to interrupt..."

"It's all right, Harry," said Fred, shooting Snape a look that said that it had better be. "Probably better you found out that way. You really don't mind? 'Cos me an' George have been after his tail for ages."

"I hardly think that a single proposition--" began Snape sternly.

"That you noticed," said Fred exasperatedly. "I mean, honestly, d'you think you'd've ever caught us shagging if we hadn't planned it?"

Harry laughed, and he was surprised when Snape said only, "I had wondered," before dissolving into his own quiet, shaking snickers. It seemed like something of a release for the professor, and Harry ventured a hand on the shuddering back. Snape took a deep breath and straightened, eyes bright and strange. "I..."

Whatever he might have said was lost, as George poked his head in back and said, "Fred, Mrs. Estwhirle is here for that special fireworks order, where'd you leave it?"

"I think... Bugger. I'll come and look, you talk to Snape and Harry." Fred rubbed his cheek affectionately against his twin's as they passed, and he added quietly, "I think Snape's going to take up with us, luv."

George glanced over to where Harry still had one arm self-consciously around Snape's back, and said, "Harry, too."

"Brilliant!" said Fred, disappearing out into the noisy shop.

"So, you're both up for a bit of double trouble, eh?" said George lightly, commandeering Fred's seat and his tea. He let his face go serious for a moment and then added, "We've only ever let one other person in our bed, and no one's to know we're together like that, got it? Severus, you at least are well aware of what would happen if it got out."

"I am sure that my reputation could not possibly get worse, but I stand by my opinion that the two of you do not deserve to be ostracised for being wise enough to recognise love when it happened," said Snape formally.

Harry grinned, "And Ron would never, ever forgive me for shagging his brothers," he said, "So your secret's safe with me."

George relaxed into his seat and gestured towards the tea that Snape and Harry were pointedly not drinking. "Don't you trust us?" he said innocently.

"I may trust you to teach me to snog, but I will never, ever trust food from you again," said Harry pointedly. "Once a canary is once too many."

"Indeed," said Snape sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. The effect was somewhat ruined by the smile tugging at his thin lips, but Harry was willing to let it go.

"Oh!" said Harry, remembering the other purpose for their visit. "I know you're busy, but I've got a favor to ask."

"Anything for you, my sweet little cherry," said George with an exaggerated leer, which Harry pointedly ignored.

"You know I'm going to be out of school in a year, and... well, I have no idea what I'll be doing with my life, and I have this vault full of gold, but I really don't know how much or what that's worth in terms of living on my own. So I want your advice, because Severus doesn't want to unduly influence me into being his boy toy or some other ridiculously noble thing." Harry winked at Snape when he said it, half-expecting to be taken to task for using his first name in front of someone else.

"I do not believe it is ever wise to rely solely on the advice of only one other person in such important matters," said Snape, spinning his teacup idly.

"He's right, you know. And if anyone knows how to squeeze blood from a Knut, it's a Weasley," said George. "So, you don't have any idea what you'll be doing once you get out?"

"Well, presumably I'll have to murder Voldemort in there somewhere," said Harry, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone, "but aside from that, not really. I thought I wanted to be an Auror, but I haven't got the proper classes, and I'm getting rather tired of fearing for my life."

"The first wise words I've heard you utter," said Snape.

Harry stuck his tongue out at him. Snape raised a single eyebrow and then went back to fidgeting with his tea. "Anyway, I'm going to talk to anyone I can this summer, of course, but I wanted to know where I stood first, as far as money goes. And I know you two can handle money, I mean, just look at this place!"

George grinned and stood, finishing off his tea. "I suppose Fred and I could be persuaded to take an afternoon off. Why don't you two do some of your errands and then come back for us at lunch time?"

"Will you help me pick out some clothes, too?" asked Harry excitedly, eyeing George's form-fitting trousers with interest. The stocky boy had grown into a big man, his muscles filling out until he seemed like a solid wall of red hair and smiles, and Harry got a sudden thrill at thinking what it might be like to lose himself in that strong embrace.

"Can I come snog you in the changing rooms?" said Fred, head peeking through the door. "If we're going to clear out this crowd before lunch, you'd better get out here."

George leaned over and kissed Snape lightly on the lips, causing Snape to blink in a stunned manner for a few moments, and Harry to adjust his trousers. When George came his way, Harry stood somewhat abruptly, presenting his face for a kiss of his own. "Eager little thing, aren't you?" said George with a smile.

"Learning is never wasted," said Harry solemnly just before George's mouth descended. George's kiss was nothing at all like Snape's, except of course for the effect it had on Harry's prick. It was soft at first, and a bit rough where George's lips were chapped, until his tongue swept over Harry's lips. Harry gasped, and the tongue took advantage to dip inside just enough to taste, mouths pressing close for one long moment before pulling away. A final soft peck like the dot at the end of an exclamation point, and he straightened and stepped back.

"Brilliant," breathed Harry, a smile breaking over his face. He took a quick glance at Snape, to see the effect this display had, and was gratified to see an expression of stunned lust on the usually scowling features.

"You're a natural. Fred, come over here and say goodbye properly, I'll run the counter and then we'll get the shop settled for our outing." He walked over to the door, trading places and heated glances with his twin before turning back to Snape and Harry. "Lunch at noon?"

"That will be acceptable," said Snape, as Fred moved into the room with a predatory air.

He walked up to Harry first, moving close until their bodies brushed. "All right, Harry?" he asked softly as he caught Harry up in one strong arm, the other hand coming up to cup his cheek gently.

Harry nodded, still a bit stunned from George's kiss, and let his eyes flutter closed as Fred leaned down. He twined his arms about Fred's waist as soft lips found his own. Fred's mouth was not at all rough, but his kiss was, a demanding press of hungry lips and teeth. He didn't wait for Harry to open his mouth in invitation, but instead nibbled until Harry gave way, then plunged his tongue inside. Harry did his best to reciprocate, but he was swept along by the sheer intensity of the kiss.

Harry was gasping and embarrassingly close to coming when Fred let him go, his blood rushing in his ears. He sat back down abruptly, eyes flicking back and forth from Fred's smugly feral expression to Snape's look of utter entrancement. "And now for your goodbye kiss, Professor," said Fred, stalking around the table like a tiger on the prowl.

Fred drew Snape out of his chair, ending up just a bare inch shorter than the professor at his full height. "And to make sure you remember us," he said softly, then struck like a snake. His lips met Snape's with an almost punishing force for a kiss that looked as hot from the outside as Harry's had been from the inside.

When they broke apart, they were both panting, and Harry could see the press of a rather prominent erection against the front of Fred's trousers. Harry was suddenly desperate for a moment alone. "I, er, loo?" he stammered, stumbling to his feet.

"Upstairs, first door on the left," said Fred with a knowing smirk. "There's lotion in the cupboard."

"Right. Don't think... I'll be quick," said Harry, aroused past embarrassment by the sight and feel of the twins and their ready passion, and the answering desire it had called to Snape's austere features.

He practically ran up the stairs, slamming the door behind him and taking out his aching prick. Three long strokes and he was done, images swimming behind his eyes of Fred and Snape and George, lips still tingling from the sweet, tea-flavored kisses. In a sudden fit of mischief, he licked his hands clean of spunk before washing up, knowing that Snape would notice. Wondering, as he left the bathroom in a more dignified manner than he'd entered, if he'd comment in front of the twins.

Fred's eyes were sparkling with humour as Harry emerged, and he said, "That was quick. Give us a kiss, and I'll be off, pet."

Harry gave him a quick but thorough kiss, noting the surprise on Fred's features as the change in flavours registered. Evidently, Snape also noted it, as he said, "He licks it off his hand."

"But I've been working on my flexibility," Harry retorted, getting a heated look from both men.

"I believe it is time we were going, before we become further... distracted," said Snape evenly, the fire in his eyes visibly cooling as he composed himself. The three of them made their way back out front, and he turned to both twins, saying, "I look forward to renewing our acquaintance."

"Indeed," said George with a wink, in obvious imitation. Fred sidled up to his brother and whispered something in his ear that made George's eyes go wide. "Really?"

Harry resisted the urge to give him another quick peck on the cheek, not wanting to cause a scene, but he did make it a point to turn back and deliberately lick the tip of his finger on the way out. Fred and George both laughed and waved, and he and Snape exited back into the bright midmorning sunlight.

Snape waited until they were lost in the crowds before leaning down to murmur to Harry, "That was..."

"Enlightening?" said Harry impishly, grinning. "Encouraging? Intriguing? Bloody brilliant?"

"Incendiary," said Snape, amused.

"That, too," said Harry easily. "So, where to now?"

"If you do not mind the brief loan, I believe it would be best to get your school things now, and settle accounts after our trip to Gringott's. This way we can spend the entire afternoon clothing you and... enjoying the charms of Messrs Weasley." Snape was back to his more formal speech and bearing, but the ever-present edge of contempt was missing from his voice.

"Yes, Professor," said Harry sweetly as they went into Flourish & Blotts. He peered around himself curiously, then realized something important. "I haven't got my letter yet, or will we come back for those books?"

"We will have to return at some point nearer the start of term. Not all the faculty have chosen their texts. We are here for your summer books only, and any personal reading material you might desire."

"If you get the class books, I can grab a few things, and then we'll be faster," said Harry, glancing around the crowded shop nervously. "Got any recommendations?"

"I would like for you to choose two or three blank books to use as journals, one for Occlumency and one for your etiquette lessons at the very minimum." Snape was almost back to his Professor Voice, and Harry had to repress the urge to do something untoward to break his composure. "Otherwise, I doubt we have similar tastes in leisure reading."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. "You're probably right. Meet you at the front counter?" said Harry, eager to get done and get on to the next thing.

"Quite," said Snape, swooping off towards the books. Harry went and fiddled around with the magazines, deciding on a copy of Quidditch Quarterly before finding himself half a dozen assorted small journals in various colours and fabrics. Two of them were completely blank, and he thought he might use them to sketch in if he found the time. He was a terrible artist, but he enjoyed messing about with it all the same.

Snape's imposing figure was already looking impatient at the front counter when Harry got there, and Harry obediently joined him, adding his finds to the small pile of books. Snape flipped through one of the blank journals, nodded approvingly, and then paid for the whole thing, all without changing his blank, stoic expression. There was something guarded about him now, and Harry wondered who he'd met up with in amongst the long shelves.

They left the shop quickly, Snape hurrying ahead with long, ground-eating strides that forced Harry to trot to catch up. "Slow down!" said Harry exasperatedly, "Don't you know that poor nutrition early in life has stunted my growth?"

"And here I thought it was poor genetics, Potter," Snape snapped, his Teacher Voice back in all its biting glory.

Harry stopped short, stunned. "Oi, that's just not sporting!"

Snape turned slowly on Harry, face a mask of contempt and anger. "And what, may I ask, makes you think that life will ever be sporting, outside of that foolish game you waste your time with, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was surprised at how much more the sarcasm hurt after all the progress he thought they'd made in the past few weeks. He absently rubbed one hand over the new hollow place beneath his breastbone and hissed, "Sorry, Professor." He pushed past Snape and walked blindly on, heedless of the fact that he had no actual idea of their intended destination.

There was a strange moment of silence before the noise of the crowd filled up his ears with static, and then distantly he heard, "Potter, wait!"

"What is it, Professor? Got another insult you'd like to cast at my dead loved ones?" said Harry viciously.

"Pot-- Harry," Snape's voice was tight and nearly whispered through his teeth. "The remaining free Malfoys were quite curious to know what I was doing escorting the Boy Who Lived around Diagon Alley. It rather threw me off balance. I apologize for taking it out on you, but we need to get to our next destination and off the street quickly."

Harry shrugged, the sting moderated somewhat by the apology. "S'alright, I suppose. Just... it hurts a lot more now, y'know?"

Snape's eyes closed and a brief flash of something crossed his features before they settled back into impassivity. "I know, and I am sorry."

Snape gestured, and Harry fell in just behind him, taking a surreptitious thrill in ogling as much of his arse as could be seen through his robes. He filled in with images from his memory, of grey wool stretched taut and narrow, elegant feet bare on the carpet. Being the age he was, he'd got himself back into a state by the time they made it into the apothecary shop, which managed to distract from, if not heal, the wounds left by Snape's harsh words.

The rest of their business went fairly quickly, a couple of other stops for odd items for Snape, including ordering an entire years' worth of student beakers and phials from a glassmakers. Harry spent the time there perusing the beautiful bottles in their display cases, several of which caught his eye as things that would fare well in Snape's collection. When a junior shopkeeper came over to shoo Harry away from the fragile and expensive wares, he turned out to have just enough gold left on him to have two of his favourites owled to himself, care of Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts.

Satisfied with his choices -- one for Snape, and one that he couldn't resist for himself, a tiny vial surrounded by a phoenix in full flight, the glass of the bird fading from gold at the wingtips to red over its heart. The vial itself was a clear, opalescent crystal that the shopkeeper assured him was removable and perfectly washable, should he choose to actually make use of the item for storing potions. The bottle for Snape was larger, the vessel itself in the shape of a bright red apple with a single leaf and stem for a stopper. Coiled around the base of the apple was a beautiful green snake with a silver-gilt pattern on its intricate scales, and glittering black eyes.

This one, too, lifted out of its protective creature, but might, he was told cautiously, contaminate certain potions, as the dye in the glass could be leeched away by some common ingredients. Harry asked for a list of the forbidden ingredients to be sent with the bottle, and even paid the extra five Sickles for gift wrapping. Snape stalked over just as Harry was filling out the owl form, but fortunately after the items were whisked away.

"And just what did you find to spend your pocket money on, Mr. Potter?" he asked, the tone of his voice suggesting that whatever he'd found, it would probably be in very poor taste indeed. Only the minute crinkling around his eyes gave away the humour he found in the situation -- after all, these people had dealt with Snape for years. It certainly wouldn't do to let them see him treating a student, and a Gryffindor no less, at all kindly.

Harry didn't let the disdain bother him this time, too caught up in being pleased with himself for the gift to be bothered by an insult that wasn't even meant. Instead he smiled ingenuously and said, "Something in my House colours, of course, Professor."

"Of course," said Snape, dripping with sarcasm. "I trust you've arranged to have it owled to school?"

"Care of the Headmaster, sir," said Harry, handing the parchment over to the shopkeeper when Snape nodded his approval. "Where to next?"

"Lunch," said Snape shortly, giving no hint of their actual destination. The shopkeeper gave Harry a sympathetic look, which Harry returned with rolled eyes and a wink behind Snape's back as he swooped back out into the street.

Harry hurried to catch up, baffled that they were actually headed towards the Weasley's shop, even though it was barely half past eleven. "Er, sir?"

"Yes, Potter?" Snape replied, still snappish but obviously making the attempt to soften his usual tone.

"Aren't we a bit early?" Harry asked, giving up his view to actually walk beside the man instead.

Snape nodded, then said, "I plan on alerting them to our presence, then going next door. I, for one, do not currently have enough parchment to teach an entire summer's worth of extra lessons."

"Oh!" said Harry, remembering the stationer's next door. This, of course, led to memories of their not-tea in the back, and the kisses they'd shared there. He spent most of the walk contemplating Fred and George and Snape, and the differences between them all. After he got his libido in check a bit, he asked, "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Potter?" This time the tone was less snappish and more impatient.

Harry suppressed a snicker and said, "Will Fred and George be allowed to visit during the summer?"

Snape nodded shortly. "Arrangements might be made for you to spend a few days with them during the holidays as well, depending on the state of the war."

That last word brought Harry up short. War. They were at war. Suddenly the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley took on a more frantic tone, people rushing to and fro without much in the way of the cheerful conversation he'd seen in previous summers. No one was stopping to have a chat over cauldron metals or the price of dragon's blood, merely hustling on to get their business done and themselves back indoors as soon as possible. While Harry was busy planning ways to have it off with anyone who would have him, the rest of the Wizarding world was fearing for their lives.

"Yes, sir," was Harry's much-subdued answer as they reached the still-bustling joke shop.

Snape stopped, drawing Harry into the shadow of the building. He tipped up Harry's chin with one long-fingered hands, each spot of warmth bringing an answering burn somewhere in Harry's body, cheeks and thighs, stomach and groin. He knew rationally that Snape would never kiss him in the middle of Diagon Alley during the height of the day, but his body held out hope. "Harry, you are sheltered from the war because, unlike these good people and their nebulous fears, the Dark Lord wants your life very badly, and will stop at nothing to get it."

"Yes, sir," said Harry quietly, feeling the cold dread in his chest leeching away his desire.

"Therefore, it is only right that you be allowed to forget him at times and pursue the sorts of things that boys your age should be pursuing," he finished softly, brushing Harry's lower lip with his thumb with a feather-light caress before releasing him, a small smile quirking at his mouth. "Even if your taste in paramours could be considered eccentric at best," he added, his voice rich with humour as he turned to enter the shop.

"I happen to think I've got excellent taste," said Harry, finally catching up to Snape at the front counter. The man had a way of slithering through the crowds that Harry envied.

"In what, pet?" said Fred curiosly from where he was carefully bagging up someone's purchase while George took their money.

"Teachers," said Harry, grinning impishly. "I think I've chosen the three best blokes a boy could hope for to see to my education."

George laughed, eyeing Snape lasciviously. "I can't help but agree, Harry," he said, his eyes dancing even as his voice was solemn in its agreement.

"As if your taste is any less eccentric, Mr. Weasley," said Snape darkly, drawn up to his full height and Teacher Voice back in place. Only the slight pinking of his cheeks gave away the act.

"At least I've got a good idea they all know their stuff," said Harry, giggling.

"And how," said Snape contemptuously, "would you even know that?"

"It doesn't take mastery of a subject to detect talent," said Fred, giving George a nudge as Snape's cheeks pinked further. "And I know for a fact that at least two of the teachers have massive talent."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that, eyes flicking down Fred's body to the half that was hidden by the counter. "Inspiring."

That got a laugh out of all three of them, and confused stares from the surrounding customers. "Private joke," said George apologetically to the woman whose purchases he'd been ringing up.

"We will be next door procuring parchment. If we have not returned by the time you are ready to go, you may find us there," Snape said, turning and swooping out as quickly as he'd come in.

"Flash bastard," said George good-naturedly after him. "Well, go on then. We'll just be a few."

"Right," said Harry, turning to go. He looked back over his shoulder and said, "Oh, and Fred?"

"Yeah, Harry?" said Fred, peering up from behind the food counter.

"From here it looks like all of my teachers've got huge talents." Laughter exploded behind Harry as he fled, cheeks burning. Still, Snape had seemed every bit as big as Fred through his trousers, and Harry was actually starting to feel a bit undersized in every way around the three tall men.

Still, it was enough to know they wanted him, mostly. They'd all admitted as much, even Snape had unbent enough to give Harry a kiss he could still feel in his toes whenever he allowed himself to think back on it. He might be scrawny and undersized, but he had something they wanted, and Fred and George weren't exactly lacking for company. Snape was even willing to wait for him, although Harry wasn't quite sure how he honestly felt about the distraction Snape had arranged in the meantime, despite the fact that he would be taking advantage of the same distraction himself.

Harry found Snape in front of a large display of quills, looking for all the world as if the difference between goose and quail feathers was of vast importance to him. Harry longed to have that attention focused on him, the way it had been those few times Snape had let his guard down around Harry and been Severus instead. Severus, the elegant older gentleman, with impeccable taste in clothing and furniture, and a huge cock that showed even through the front of his very proper wool trousers.

Harry sidled up next to Snape and then, somehow, ended up asking, "You won't mind if I'm not all big like you and the twins, will you?" Instead of whatever else he'd been hoping would come out of his mouth. Anything else might have done, really.

Snape turned, his face a mix of incredulity and concern. "Harry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings earlier, I know you've had a difficult life and being short--"

"Not short," hissed Harry, glancing around nervously and then down at the anatomy in question. "Small."

The concern grew along with his widening eyes, but his long fingers deftly plucked a small assortment of quills down off the racks as he spoke, and his voice was as even as if he'd been discussing the weather. "Not that this is the place to be discussing such things, but no, I do not mind in the least. It is certainly not among the list of qualities I require in a... student."

"You're sure?" Harry asked, fidgeting with one of the displays and refusing to meet Snape's eyes. "I mean, it's all the boys ever really talk about, and..." He couldn't quite bring himself to admit to Snape he'd been checking them all out, and found himself wanting.

"Ah," was Snape short reply. After a long pause, during which Harry grew positively nervy and "Why don't you find your supplies? I believe that schoolboy perception is a matter that should be addressed with someone around to confirm the details from my admittedly distant memories."

"Er, alright," said Harry, confused. He did realize that the middle of a busy stationers wasn't exactly the best choice for a talk about cock size, but he also had no idea what Snape was getting at. He sighed and tried to put it out of his mind, grabbing a few quills rather haphazardly and following Snape over to the inks and parchment.

He was a little more focused here, fascinated with magical inks that turned colour according to your mood, or imparted a soft scent to your words that matched the sentiment involved. He even found, tucked into one corner, a little kit with caked inks for drawing, and a pair of Chinese brushes. He added a box of soft pencils in black and a dozen rainbow colours, and a large book of amazingly thick, textured paper for painting with the inks, as well as several long rolls of school-grade parchment.

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry's choices, but paid without comment. They were back in the nearly-empty joke shop with their parcels just before noon, and Fred escorted them into the storeroom with a chivalrous bow and a leer. "You can keep your stuff here, I promise on Gryffindor honour we won't mess with it," he said when he noticed Harry standing awkwardly with his packages. He even found a large empty box to hold everything so they wouldn't misplace any of it by accident.

George and Fred got rid of the last customers and put up a little "Closed for the Afternoon" sign that apologized politely for the inconvenience in a high, adorable voice. Soon enough they were back out on the street and headed towards a tiny little restaurant that George insisted they try. Harry was just happy to be eating, as breakfast had been minimal and hours ago besides, and Severus was content as long as there was little to no chance of another encounter with the Malfoys.

The place was bustling at this hour, and they spent long minutes loitering in the cramped entranceway, waiting for a table to free up. Eventually an impeccably dressed waiter led them back into a dim alcove with a booth. Fred and George each slid into a side, grinning, and waited for Harry and Snape to join them. "Come on, Severus, have a seat. I won't bite in public," said George, when Snape hesitated.

Harry just shrugged and slipped in beside Fred, completely happy to have the excuse to press up against his muscular thigh and shoulder. Fred grinned and slung an arm over Harry's shoulder, and Harry swore for one brief moment that he saw a flash of jealousy in Snape's eyes, but it was gone faster than he could blink. Instead, Snape perched on the edge of the seat with perfect dignity, a small but nearly palpable space between his body and George's.

Harry looked around for a menu, and almost giggled when George wrapped his arm around Snape's waist and pulled the stiff professor closer. "None of that, now. We're taking you two out proper," he said, grinning. "Don't worry, the people here don't mind. The place is owned by a married wizard pair."

"You have found dates!" said a cheerful voice at Harry's elbow, making him jump. "I am delighted to see two such wonderful young men with equally attractive company. Although, you should not scowl so, it ruins the line of your face!"

They all turned to see a round, happy wizard dressed in white chef's robes, a huge grin plastered on his shining face. Harry was shocked when Snape replied, "Indeed. However, I find years of teaching has given me the habit, and I am too old to learn a new one."

"Nonsense, Severus," said the chef jovially. "It is not students but lack of a man that sours you so. You must let our George put a smile on your face."

"If you say so, Bartholomew," said Snape congenially. "I was not aware you'd married. Still with Artemis, I assume?"

"Yes, indeed, I'm sure he'll be out later to catch up." He turned on Harry, grin getting, if anything, wider. "And is this the Boy Who Lived, at my table with young Fred?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry meekly, thankful for the squeeze Fred gave his shoulder. "We went to school together, his brother Ron is in my year."

"Harry helped us start the shop," said Fred helpfully. "He's a good guy, Bartholomew. You'll take good care of him, right?"

"I shall feed you all like kings!" he said triumphantly. "Now, do you have any preferences, or can I have my way with the feeding of such fine young men?"

"I am hardly younger than you, as you well know," said Snape with a mock-sneer. "I believe that we can entrust ourselves to your hands, if that's all right with you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, blushing and thinking mainly that he could stop being the center of attention any time now. Bartholomew disappeared back into the kitchens, and Fred brushed gentle knuckles over Harry's burning cheek. "Don't worry, pet, Bartholomew and Artemis are the best chefs in Diagon Alley."

Harry let himself sag into Fred's embrace. "It's not that, I just... I hate all that Boy Who Lived crap, y'know?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at that, even though Harry had told him so many times over. He supposed it carried more weight in this setting than it did yelled during Potions and losing him yet another quantity of House points. Fred positively purred as Harry snuggled into him, for once not minding being small. It felt good to be in the shadow of Fred's much larger form, surrounded by trusted, caring arms. He closed his eyes and wallowed in the feeling for a few long moments before opening them to find everyone, once again, staring.

"What?" said Harry, sitting up a bit indignantly.

George just grinned, and Fred dropped a kiss on the top of Harry's head, but it was Snape who said, "Just admiring the view."

Harry's eyes got wide, and he blushed again, suddenly self-conscious of his awful t-shirt and unkempt hair, much-repaired glasses and ill-fitting trousers. "Oh," he said softly, wishing he could hide.

"If I didn't already have someone, Harry, you know I'd keep you, right?" said Fred softly, a sentiment echoed by George a moment later.

"You're lovely," he said simply, reaching one long arm across the table to repeat Fred's earlier caress.

"Am not," said Harry crossly. "Besides, you two get to touch Severus, and he's right sexy when he wants to be."

It was Snape's turn to blush and be scrutinized, still sitting stiffly despite George's hand spread out large over the whole of his waist. Harry wondered what it would look like, George's hand wrapped around Snape's cock, Snape's face transported in pleasure, and realized that obviously being around attractive men turned him into a total pervert. "He does have a point," George murmured, glancing out into the restaurant to make sure they were still unobserved before nuzzling lightly at Snape's neck.

Instead of pulling away as Harry half-expected, Severus melted into George's embrace, face going slack with pleasure as the lips that Harry remembered so vividly went to work behind his ear. "I think he likes it," said Fred softly, breath ruffling Harry's hair.

"Do you blame him?" said Harry, getting flushed this time from something quite the opposite of embarrassment.

Fred leaned down and whispered right into Harry's ear, "Not a bit. After all, I know exactly how talented that mouth is."

Harry bit his lip to keep in a moan as Fred nipped at his ear. Both twins straightened suddenly, leaving Harry and Snape to give slightly glazed thanks to the waiter who appeared a moment later with drinks -- some strange exotic iced coffee for Snape, Italian sodas that pulsed with colour for both Fred and George, and a butterbeer float for Harry, plus glasses of cold, clear water, each with a thin lemon slice floating on top that reminded Harry forcibly of Severus' tea.

"Harry is developing a complex," said Snape into the sudden stillness left by the waiter. He stirred his drink with a long-handled spoon and the same precision he used in Potions class, ice clinking as he mixed the thick cream at the bottom with the fragrant coffee on top. Harry was too fascinated by the movement of his hands to register the words right away, and thus he missed his opportunity to prevent Snape from following up with, "He believes that we will find his endowments inadequate."

"Been intimidating him, Severus?" said George with a grin and a pointed flick of his eyes to Snape's lap below the table.

"He has not, nor will he during the course of his Hogwarts education, see anything by which he could be intimidated. I believe it was your comments earlier which planted the seeds of this doubt," said Snape stiffly, sipping his coffee with an evil twinkle in his eye.

"Well, I won't deny we're both gifted beyond all expectation in that area, but Merlin knows a bloke doesn't have to have a salami in his pants to please us!" said Fred, looking down at Harry with something akin to concern.

"If you don't want me to die of embarrassment right now, you should really all shut up," said Harry through gritted teeth.

He was saved from whatever reply they might have made by the appearance of yet another waiter, this one bearing a square platter of tiny colourful bites of something on little triangles of toast, and a stack of smaller plates for each of them. "Ooh, you'll love these, Harry," said George, fortunately distracted from talk of Harry's theoretical inadequacies.

"Quite. I believe that they have been perfecting this recipe since I was a boy, although back then they were just sous chefs at The Flying Fish in Hogsmeade." Snape reached out and delicately plucked one of the appetizers off the tray, then placed it in his open mouth with perfect grace. He didn't even get any of the sauce on his fingers, and Harry regretted the lost opportunity to watch him clean it off.

Fred and George each snagged three of the little treats, setting them on their plates and leaving five on the platter. Harry took one cautiously, sniffing it dubiously before nibbling on a corner. The sauce was creamy and just a tiny bit spicy, but good, so he shrugged and ate the whole thing. It melted in his mouth, the spice intensifying just a touch and then sinking into the toast, a strange mix of flavours Harry had mostly never encountered before blending together on his tongue. He absently licked the remaining sauce off his fingers as he chewed and swallowed, only then becoming aware of the sudden silence all around him.

"How can you possibly resist that mouth for a whole year?" said George, his voice tight with wonder and desire.

"I believe you now understand why I felt it necessary to enlist your expert assistance," said Snape smugly, sipping serenely at his coffee, the heat in his eyes the only hint that he wasn't as unaffected as he pretended.

"It's like having our cake and eating it, too," said Fred, staring from Harry to Snape and back again. Harry was mesmerised by the sight of Snape's lips wrapped around the slender white straw, his long fingers gently steadying it as he sucked.

"We are definitely getting the best of this bargain, even if it only lasts a year," agreed George, nibbling at one of the appetizers.

Harry felt warm all over from the compliment and implied desire in it. He'd never felt attractive, except for those few moments when he'd had Snape's lips on his own, and he finally allowed himself to ask, "You really don't mind?"

"Mind what, exactly?" said George carefully while Fred struggled to swallow his bite.

Harry shrugged, chest going tight, and looked down at his hands in his lap. Maybe they only really did want Snape, and were taking him on as a prerequisite to getting the professor's attentions. "T-teaching me. Kissing me."

Fred gently tipped Harry's face up to meet his tender brown eyes. "Harry, I would give quite a lot for the chance to kiss you again, and anything else you'll let me get away with before we have to hand you over to Severus," he said seriously.

"The only part we really mind at all is giving you up at the end, and even then, we've still got each other, don't we?" said George, sipping gently at his drink.

"How come you're so sure... I mean, how d'you know he'll even want me at the end?" said Harry quietly.

"I believe they are merely seeing what is obvious to anyone with eyes," said Severus softly. There was a long, quiet pause, while George sipped his soda and Fred's fingers ghosted over Harry's upturned face. Snape finally broke it by smiling sardonically and adding, "Perhaps it is time to get you new glasses?"

Harry choked out a laugh, fighting the urge to curl up and cry like some bloody stupid girl. He leaned into Fred's arms instead, hiding his face until he got his breathing under control, hating himself for his reaction. Snape hadn't said it was love or anything like that, just that he wanted Harry, but it was a lot more than he'd ever had before, being wanted. "I suppose it's about time, I haven't had new ones since before Hogwarts," he said as he sat up and grabbed another one of the little treats, ignoring how tight his voice felt in his throat.

"These are really good," said Harry into the ensuing shocked silence.

"Harry, have you seriously not had new glasses in six years?" said Fred, concerned.

Harry gave a painful little half-shrug. "Never had the chance at school, and the Dursleys won't buy me anything they're not forced to."

"Then I believe a trip to the Occulist is in order," said Snape, the tone of his voice implying that the Dursleys were very, very lucky to have relinquished custody of Harry already, or they might end up painfully unhappy at having to answer to Snape.

"Don't you need appointments and things?" said Harry, surprised. It had always been an ordeal, when the school made the Dursleys upgrade his glasses, with phone calls and special driving and a great fuss made so that Dudley would get something out of the trips as well.

"I believe that any Occulist worth his license will make time for a teenager whose prescription is six years out of date," said Snape dismissively.

"And this way you can get proper Wizarding glasses," said George, popping his last treat into his mouth and chewing ecstatically. "You'll have a whole new look by the end of the day!"

The rest of the meal proceeded with a parade of new and wonderful flavours, and agreeable conversation about everything from the twins' latest invention to Snape's improvements on the Wolfsbane potion. Harry mostly just sat and watched and ate, content to sit in the shadow of the three strong men. Fred was a little more serious than George, he thought, but George tended to have better backing for his opinions, and Snape, when he unbent, turned out to have a wicked sense of humour that got them all laughing.

All in all, he thought it might have been the best meal of his life. Especially when Artemis showed up at the end with a brilliant dessert that seemed to consist mostly of different patterns of flavoured sauces on a plate, with vanilla ice cream at the center to smear in it. Harry managed to get something they told him was mango on his nose, and he carefully stored away the memory of Snape licking ice cream delicately off a spoon for future reference. Fred and George fed each other bites in a way that made Harry's heart ache with longing, and the whole experience left him on the knife-edge of desire.

The walk to Gringott's was spent much more quietly as Snape kept a weather eye out for trouble, and Harry willed his erection to go away. Surprisingly, it worked at least part way, even with George's arm draped over his shoulders and Fred quietly invading Snape's personal space at every possible opportunity. The anxiety about his future seemed to have a welcome calming effect on his otherwise implacable libido.

Harry's vault was bigger than he remembered, the rough walls perforated with strange dusty niches he'd never looked past all that shining gold to see. Severus went around the small room with him, exploring those little alcoves while the twins cast spells to stack, sort and count the piles of coinage, murmuring numbers so high they ceased to have meaning to Harry's overfull brain. He felt as though each new bit of information was sloshing out some of the desire, though, letting the lust dribble away as each pebble of serious matter came to rest in his mind.

There was the deed to his parents' ruined house, the property left fallow and unused for the bulk of Harry's lifetime. Another deed, to some house in the country that his parents had rented to farmers, the income a steady trickle that still helped to fill the vault with gold. A few dozen dusty books, which Snape pronounced possibly valuable to the Order and requested to borrow. A box of bright jewels undulled by time, including a completely ridiculous tiara he suddenly wanted to throw across the room.

Snape stopped him, taking away the box and setting it carefully in its niche, then drawing Harry unresisting into his arms. "I did not know you would want to do this today," said Snape softly, "or I might have arranged for more time."

Harry clung to him, all thoughts of sex lost in the fresh, raw welling of grief for his parents. He thought he should really be getting over this by now, but being here, amongst the material things that were all they had to give him, it opened up an entirely different set of wounds. Ones scraped into his soul in by a childhood of deprivation, years locked in a cupboard with only spiders to talk to, ironically not even knowing that, had there been snakes, he'd actually have had company.

Strong arms wrapped around the two of them, one set on each side hiding Harry completely from the glitter of a fortune he'd give up gladly for one more minute with his parents or godfather. They stood that way for a long time, pointedly ignored by the goblin waiting outside, nothing but the four of them in the whole world. Harry finally took a deep breath and pushed gently, and all three men stepped away at once, leaving him slightly off-balance.

"Thanks," he said softly, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Anything for a mate, Harry," said George lightly, going back over to the odd little corner he'd been poking around in before Harry had freaked out. "Er, Severus, you'd better come see this."

Fred put an arm around Harry's shoulders again, and Harry' gratefully wrapped his own around the slim waist, catching his fingers on Fred's belt-loops. "So, how rich am I?" he asked quietly, staring at the pile.

"Living carefully, you'd never have to work," said Fred seriously. "If you paid to get the house rebuilt, it'd take some away, but a bit of careful investment would make it back. With the right investments, and depending on the income from that farm, you might even be able to live a bit richly if you managed it right."

"Harry," said Snape hoarsely, his voice tight and pained. "I believe... we have found Sirius Black's missing Will."

"Oh, fuck," said Harry, knees going weak; Fred held him up easily as he sagged against the comforting solidity. He wasn't sure he could handle this now, and was immensely relieved when Snape strode over, not to him, but to the little goblin studiously ignoring them in the doorway.

"I believe this to be the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black," said Snape, and the goblin nodded.

"We'll take care of it," he said shortly. "The appropriate parties will be notified by owl after it's been authenticated and read."

"I trust in your integrity," said Snape formally, bowing to the little creature before sweeping back to Harry. "I think it's time to go. I know we haven't found everything, but..."

"No, it's all right. I don't think... I can't take any more surprises today," said Harry softly, feeling strangely fragile, like his skull was made of glass, and all those hard little facts would jostle and break it open if he subjected it to any more sudden jolts.

"Do you need a few moments before we go?" said Snape, his face wearing an expression of genuine concern that would shock anyone who knew them both.

"N-no. I think I'd like to get away now," Harry replied quietly. "Will you... take care of me today?"

"I will handle your monetary affairs, Harry, and do whatever is in my power to care for your state of mind as well," said Snape, stepping forward hesitantly.

Harry curled into his arms for a quick hug, then steeled himself and headed for the door. He winced slightly at the clink of coins as Snape gathered the necessary cash. Harry tried very hard not to think of it all as blood money.

A Question of Etiquette VI: Continuing As We've Begun