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A Marriage of Convenience	By : NinaSweets Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 159377 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 45
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and places all belong to JK Rowling this is a not for profit story.

Chapter List
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Hello lovely readers, how are we all? I have returned from Europe, had a wonderful 23^rd birthday and I’m trying to find a job so life is all a bit weird. Anyway a big and lovely thank you for my amazing reviewers starr, moodysavage, jules3677, djaddict, cullengal101, Jan, LeaniaSTL, atymer, morningstorm70, Doodle_Penguin, Pedal Drops and Fenrirsboy for your kind words. On with chapter twenty-eight!

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Harry wasn’t quite sure how he was expected to decide anything more important then what socks to wear for the day. He didn’t feel he was qualified to decide much more than that. Hermione disagreed.
“We need to learn how to defend ourselves,” Hermione said as she paced before him.
Harry frowned watching her go back and forth before him. Ron was picking at dirt under his nails trapped there from Herbology.
“Umbridge is completely useless,” Hermione went on. “She’s going to ruin this whole school,”
Professor Umbridge had been wedging herself into everyone’s business since she arrived. She was putting out ‘Educational Decrees’ that were meant to ‘better’ the education and discipline system at Hogwarts. Really it was just making everyone as miserable as Harry.
“We’re not going to pass our OWLs like this. We need a real teacher,” Hermione said firmly.
Harry nodded in agreement. They did need a real teacher but he couldn’t really find it in him to care about his grades right now. He was still going over and over his conversation with Snape from a few weeks ago.
Come and find me when you’ve made your choice.
The words echoed again and again in his head. A choice. It was all down to a simple choice. The choice to kill or be killed. It should be a simple choice. The fight or flight response would insist on Harry fighting as he had every other time he’d come face to face with Voldemort. It wasn’t simple though. It was complicated. Too complicated. How did it come down to this? The epic showdown between Harry and Voldemort. What decided it had to be Harry and not someone like Dumbledore? Did you get an exemption if you already defeated a dark wizard before like Dumbledore had with Grindelwald? Was there a coupon card he could get stamped to make sure no one turned to him when the next dark lord came along?
He was tired. His brain wasn’t forming thoughts well right now. He wished he had someone to talk to. Snape was out of the question. Hermione and Ron were preoccupied with their teenage dramas and Dumbledore seemed to be avoiding Harry.
“So will you?” Hermione asked. Harry frowned.
“What?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.
“Have you heard anything I’ve been saying?”
“Er… to be honest, no. I was thinking about Voldemort,” Harry muttered and rubbed at his scar in irritation.
“Aren’t you always?” Ron said and Harry gave him an irritated look.
“I didn’t ask for this you know!”
“Boys!” Hermione shouted and clapped her hands in their faces to get their attention. “I was saying that we needed a real teacher. A real teacher who has been in a real battle. A real teacher who has fought against… Voldemort and walked away unscathed.”
Harry slowly turned to her. She was fidgeting as she stared at him, brown eyes wide in hope. He narrowed his eyes and she offered a nervous smile.
“No!” Harry said immediately. Her face fell and she rushed to placate him but he shook his head.
“No! No way! Not a chance!” Harry said and Hermione glanced to Ron for help.
“You have no idea what it’s like! To – to stand there and look into his eyes. To stand there and look and know that’s the last face you’re going to see. It’s awful. It’s horrifying. It hurts in places you didn’t know could hurt.”
“That’s why we need you to teach us. You’re the only one with real experience,” Hermione said and Harry was shaking his head as she spoke.
“It’s not an experience Hermione! It’s a bloody awful nightmare I don’t wake up from. I go to sleep and he’s there laughing in my face, killing my friends and family and I’m forever running down a hallway to get away but there’s no end. Then I wake up and he’s there, somewhere in there, plotting and scheming.” Harry took a deep breath and admitted something he hadn’t really let himself think on too much but she had to understand. “Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know if it’s my thoughts or his that I hear.”
“Harry,” Hermione said quietly and Harry stared at her. He didn’t dare look at Ron.
Ron was a wonderful friend most of the time but he didn’t really think before he reacted. Harry didn’t think he could handle a look of distrust from Ron right now. He was also scared of seeing something worse there, fear.
“Harry,” Hermione repeated stepping forward to stand right in front of him. “Do you know why we’re friends?”
“Er… cause we like one another?” Harry asked with a confused frown.
“Well yes we do but that’s not why I wanted to be your friend. I’m annoying. I’m really very annoying. I had no friends in primary school because I just babbled out facts. I get so nervous that I only feel truly confident going into situations knowing everything I can about it. I read all the books on magic and Hogwarts and plants and animals I could find that would help prepare me for coming here. I just scared everyone away with my incessant fact blurting. People don’t take that comfort I do in being prepared; people just want to get on with things. When I couldn’t make friends here for that first month I was here I started to settle. I started to accept I just wouldn’t be able to make friends here either and prepared for seven years of loneliness. Then Ron said those mean things in charms class and it bubbled over. I didn’t want a lonely seven years here, I wanted to make friends; I wanted to talk to people. I wanted to sit with people at lunch and I wanted to laugh during breaks. So I cried and cried in the bathroom about how I’d probably never get the chance because I thought everyone agreed with Ron. I was splashing my face clean with water ready to just go to bed when there was an awful smell. I couldn’t breathe. There was a twelve foot mountain troll blocking the door. I froze. Every useful book I’d read that would help me in that situation seemed to dribble out of my head. I heard my name and there you were. You had your hand out; you were trying to get me to run to you while Ron distracted the troll. I couldn’t move though. I was so stunned. There was a mountain troll in front of me and two boys I thought hated me had risked their lives to come and help me. That’s why we’re friends. Because you went out of your way to help the annoying bossy girl you barely knew. You didn’t do it because you’re the big brave Gryffindor, or the Boy-Who-Lived. You did it because you felt it was the right thing to do. And I know that right now it’s all a little much, there’s a lot going on but you’re going to make the right choice because it’s the right thing to do.”
Choices, again. Always choices. Harry sighed and Hermione glanced to Ron nervously but turned back to Harry quickly.
“Well,” Ron said quietly, “You’ve said he’s getting stronger right? What if he comes here and attacks everyone? No one is going to be able help at all with Umbridge here, my one duelling experience ended disastrously. I need to learn all I can; we all need to learn what we can.”
Harry looked between his two friends, they both were hoping for this. They wanted to prepare for a battle properly.
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Harry said and Hermione smiled.
“Well it’ll be open to all year levels so what do you find most useful in duels?”
“Disarming,” Harry said honestly and Hermione nodded.
“We’ll start with that then,”
“But where on earth would we practise? How are you going to get people to sign up?”
“Leave it to me,” she said.

Harry let Hermione drag him through the snow streaked streets of Hogsmeade. Ron was trudging along behind him, shooting envious looks back at all the happy students heading into the Three Broomsticks.
“Hermione, where are we going?” Harry asked but Hermione just kept on walking.
They arrived on the outskirts of the village where there were barely any houses and even fewer shops. Leaning slightly to the left was the most depressing pub Harry had ever seen. A grotesque stuffed hogs head was placed over the entryway. Harry gave it wide berth as he stepped into the pub behind Hermione.
“Are you sure about this place?” Harry asked quietly.
The pub was quite small with three customers seated in various spots around the bar. Harry’s eyes strayed to the barman glaring at them from behind the bar with bright blue eyes. He shook his head causing his grey beared to move with him and turned to serve another drink to a witch sitting with a head to toe veil covering her as dark as the night.
“What do you want?” the bartender asked.
“Three butterbeers,” Hermione ordered quickly. The bartender gave them their drinks and Hermione led the way over to a dingy little table in the corner of the pub. She sat down and took a sip of her drink. She choked slightly and put it back on the table. Harry frowned and saw the glasses were quite filthy no doubt affecting the taste of the usually delicious drink. Harry wasn’t brave enough to try his so he simply sat beside Hermione and put his glass beside hers.
Harry waited quietly as what seemed to be majority of Hogwarts students above third year found their way into the pub.
“How many people did you mention this too again?” Harry asked Hermione with a sharp look. Hermione shrugged, “Just a few.”
She didn’t give Harry the chance to argue as she stood up and a hush fell over the gathered students.
“Er… hi,” Hermione started lamely. She glanced to Harry and Ron quickly before clearing her throat.
“Hi,” she started again, “thanks for coming. Er… the reason we’re all gathered is that Harry-” Harry interrupted with a loud cough and a glare at her. “Well I had the idea that we should all learn Defence Against the Dark Arts. Real Defence Against the Dark Arts, not that rubbish Umbridge thinks is teaching. We need to defend ourselves. Not just theory but the practical side of it too.”
“Why would we want to help you pass your OWLs?” someone asked. Hermione frowned at the speaker who was a mousey boy down the back who slumped a little under her gaze.
“Well the OWLs are important of course and I’m sure the seventh years wouldn’t mind practise for their NEWTs but this goes beyond school. We need to be able to properly defend ourselves because – because Lord Voldemort is back.”
There were gasps at Voldemort’s name and all eyes flicked toward Harry or Cedric Diggory up the back sandwiched between the Weasley twins.
“Says you,” a snotty fourth year commented. Harry glanced to the boy rugged up in a Hufflepuff scarf and hat to ward off the chill. Even inside the pub it was still just above freezing.
“Dumbledore-” Hermione began
“Dumbledore believes him,” the boy said nodding to Harry.
“I’m not talking about Voldemort so if that’s what you came for I suggest you clear out,” Harry snapped.
The crowd shifted restlessly and a few of them glanced back to Cedric again but no one left.
“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry turned to her. “Harry has real world experience. Practical experience in defending himself so I think he’d make the perfect teacher. Anyone who wants to learn can come and sign this sheet and I’ll let you know when our first lesson will be.”
Surprisingly everyone came up to sign their names on the sheet. Harry watched as Ginny signed her name with a flourish and handed the quill to the boy she’d been leaning against during the meeting. Michael Corner, he signed his name and then took her hand and they headed out into the cold together. Harry found Ron glaring after them darkly and couldn’t help but smile.
There were mostly familiar names, students Harry knew from their house Quidditch team or in the case of Luna Lovegood through Ginny. She offered Harry a dreamy smile as she handed the quill to him and skipped out of the pub singing softly to herself.
Cedric signed his name happily beneath the Weasley twins followed Cho Chang and her friend Marietta.
Finally it was only Harry, Ron and Hermione left of the Hogwarts students in the pub and Harry turned to his two friends.
“You’re both positive this is the right thing to do?” Harry asked and they nodded. “I can’t help but feel it’s going to blow up in our faces,”
“Harry, I’ve checked the school rules, there’s nothing against setting up a homework club,” Hermione assured him.
Two weeks after their ‘homework club’s initial meeting, Umbridge, as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, abolished all clubs. Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was furious as she had to submit a twenty inch essay on why the Gryffindor team should be reinstated.
Hermione was glaring at the notice board as Angelina raged behind her.
“This is completely unfair! I bet Montague doesn’t have to write one!” Angelina shouted. The Gryffindor’s around murmured their agreement as she angrily wrote down the requirements for saving Gryffindors Quidditch team from Umbridge.
Harry however turned to Hermione as she glared at the notice.
“Someone sold us out,” Harry said quietly.
“Bet it was that stupid Hufflepuff,” Ron said and Harry agreed with him.
“No,” Hermione said turning to face them. “It couldn’t have been anyone because I enchanted the parchment I made everyone sign. If anyone tells Umbridge anything, we’ll know.”
“Hermione I signed that paper,” Ron said in alarm.
“Then you had better not turn us in.” She turned on her heel and headed up to the girls dorms.
“I hope we never find out what she did to that sheet,” Ron said and Harry nodded quickly in agreement.
Things didn’t really improve from there. They were trying to find somewhere big enough to practise without anyone finding out. Angelina was holding training sessions in the common room for Quidditch as their team didn’t have permission to reform yet and Snape and Umbridge were making him miserable. Harry was once again spending another evening writing lines for Umbridge, and then trudging down the stairs to the dungeons where Snape idly leafed through his mind like it was a gossip magazine.
“STOP!” Harry shouted holding up his hand. It hurt to have his mind torn through and he was mentally and physically exhausted.
Snape lowered his wand and Harry stayed on the floor, letting his head hit the bookshelf behind him with a thump. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly trying to calm his muddled brain. It felt like Snape had been stirring his brain like a potion and now he’d stopped it was a gooey lumpy mess. He brushed his sweaty hair off his stinging scar and sighed as his body calmed down.
“What is that?” Snape asked.
“What?” Harry muttered opening his eyes. Snape was crouched before him. Harry frowned, his brain still having trouble stringing thoughts together.
Snape grabbed his wrist and pulled his right hand forward. Harry couldn’t stop his cry of pain as Snape’s fingers dug into the words carved into his hand. He began to bleed again through the bandage.
“It’s nothing,” Harry said snatching his hand back and shaking his robes over the top to hide it. Snape stared.
“I fell,” Harry lied.
“We went from its nothing to you fell very quickly, perhaps if I wait long enough I will hear the truth,” Snape said and Harry glared.
“I fell so it’s nothing to worry about,” Harry said simply.
“I have been a teacher for over a decade Potter, I have seen lots of students… ‘fall’” Snape said.
Snape grabbed his arm again and had pulled the bandage off before Harry could even think of hiding it again.
“If you don’t use the correct healing technique it can scar,” Snape stopped and frowned at the hand he held. “I will learn my manners,” Snape read aloud.
Harry stared at him and Snape stared back, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
“I have issues, I should be in therapy really,” Harry said and Snape frowned.
Snape stood and pulled Harry up with him.
“It’s nothing!” Harry insisted but the man ignored him. He took Harry by his arm and led him into his private quarters. Making sure not to let go of Harry’s hand, he poured various sickly coloured potions into a bowl and then plunged Harry’s injured hand into it.
“Ah!” Harry yelped trying to pull his hand back but Snape held firm. Harry glared at him for a moment before the pain was suddenly gone. He looked down watching the healing liquid swirl about as he wriggled his fingers.
Snape pulled his hand out and brusquely dried it off with a cloth before holding it up close to his face. Harry tried to take his hand back but Snape shot him a fierce look so Harry let the man look.
“What spell did you use?”
“I didn’t use a spell,” Harry said
“You’re right handed,”
“Yes,” Harry said with a frown.
“How did you get such control on the lettering with your wand in your left hand?”
“I didn’t use a spell,”
“The knife or scissors you used then,”
“It’s Umbridge’s stupid detentions okay! She makes me write lines with this fancy quill she has and it uses my blood to ink the lines. She keeps making me go back and do it again and again until ‘the message sinks in’,”
“She has a quill that uses human blood as ink?” Snape asked “Does she drink it too?”
“Ugh!” Harry growled snatching his hand back. “You think I’m doing this for attention? That I’m lying? That this is fun for me or something? Why do you think I haven’t told anybody? No one could do anything anyway; she’s so high up in the Ministry we’d be thrown in Azkaban for trying,”
“Steal me one of those quills,”
“Are you mad? The woman already hates me, I don’t really fancy having ‘lying thief’ written across my forehead from more detentions.”
“Steal a quill,” Snape ordered and Harry raised his eyebrows.
“You are mad, I’m going to bed now, maybe tomorrow you’ll have returned to your snarky self,”
“I am trying to help you,” Snape said.
“No, no you’re not! Between Voldemort’s stupid visions, Umbridge’s stupid detentions, Hermione’s stupid idea I teach Defence and your stupid Occlumency lessons you’re trying to kill me! I honestly can’t remember if I ever been this psychically and emotionally exhausted and I saw Voldemort’s rebirth and got nearly killed by a Basilisk.”
“You are still struggling to sleep?”
“Well… yeah I mean – I got used to sleeping beside you and Sirius let me sleep beside him this summer so yeah,” he finished quietly.
Snape pointed to his bedroom and Harry frowned.
“No,” Harry said shaking his head, “I can’t just open myself up to get hurt. I don’t want your help and I don’t need it. I’ll deal with this myself; I’ll see you in class Professor.”
Harry hurried back upstairs to the Gryffindor common room to find Hermione and Ron had waited up for him.
“What happened to your hand?” Hermione asked in alarm and Harry sighed flopping onto the couch beside her.
“Umbridge,” he said. His friend’s eyebrows nearly shot off their heads as they stared at him in alarm.
“That’s totally barbaric! You have to tell a teacher,”
“Snape knows,” Harry replied and Hermione frowned.
“What did he say?”
“He asked me to steal the quill she has that does this, probably wants to study it, prick,” Harry grumbled.
“How is seeing other people going?” Hermione asked
“Spectacular, obviously,” Harry said not noticing as Hermione and Ron exchanged a knowing look.
“Harry-” Hermione started but Harry shook his head.
“I’m going to bed; maybe I can get an hour or twos worth of sleep before Voldemort ruins it.”
He didn’t even manage a whole hour of sleep. Voldemort was happy. Very, very happy. It wasn’t until Harry saw the Daily Prophet headline the next morning he understood why.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
The article detailed every inmate that had escaped including a werewolf awaiting trial for attacking a wizard while in human form. Harry offered a small smile to the moving photo of Remus Lupin who was posed before a striped wall that indicated his height as he held up his Azkaban inmate number. The newspaper blamed the escape of the fifteen prisoners on the only person who had escaped from Azkaban before, Sirius Black. Harry sighed sadly at twenty year old Sirius who was screaming and trying to escape the hands that held him still for his mug shot.
“Great,” Harry muttered “Deatheaters on the loose, like I don’t have enough people trying to kill me this year.”
“Well at least Lupins out,” Ron offered and Harry nodded.
“I suppose, but even if he’s proven innocent he still broke out of prison, I think they can send you to prison for that.”
Hermione was reading the article and shooting glances toward Neville Longbottom. Harry raised his eyebrows at her odd actions but she wouldn’t speak. She turned to paper toward him and pointed to a picture of one of the escaped inmates.
BELLATRIX LESTRANGE
Wanted for the use of Unforgivables, torturing Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity. If spotted do NOT approach. Extremely dangerous. Contact the Ministry immediately.
Harry sat back and looked down the table to where Neville sat glaring at the newspaper as if hoping it would burst into flames through sheer force of will.
“Poor Neville,” Hermione said quietly.
“I had no idea,” Ron muttered.
“It would explain his reaction in class with fake Moody last year when he demonstrated the Unforgivable curses,” Hermione said and Harry nodded.
“Yeah I wasn’t a great big fan of learning how easily my parents were murdered.”
“I don’t remember anyone particularly liking that class,” Ron said
“Well classes with a lunatic are never much fun. Still beats Lockhart’s classes though,” Harry said and Ron roared with laughter. Hermione shot them both dark looks which made them both laugh.
“He was a great teacher even if he was a fraud,”
“Hermione, he couldn’t do anything right!”
“Someone did the things he claimed he had, it was interesting to learn about the defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf even if he didn’t personally do it,” Hermione sniffed. This dissolved into an argument and Harry went back to frowning at the paper before him. This would explain why Voldemort had been so happy last night. His loyal followers were back with him. Harry glanced up to the staff table where Snape sat. The man was also reading this morning’s paper with a frown on his face. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if the man would be going to a party at Voldemort’s secret hide out to celebrate his fellow Deatheaters getting out of prison. Voldemort knew they were married, would he insist spouses go to this party? Then they could all really celebrate.
Harry sighed and let his head fall forward onto the table. He was losing his mind. How did fifteen year olds cope with this? Wait no other fifteen-year-old had to. It was just lucky him.
“Harry,” Ron said, “You all right?”
“No,” Harry grumbled petulantly into the table.
“Is it Snape?” Ron asked. He sounded like he really didn’t want to know if it was but was being a good friend and asking anyway.
“It’s everything, Umbridge, Snape, Voldemort, everything, everyone.”
“Well this might cheer you up,” Hermione said and Harry raised his head to give her a sceptical look. “I’ve found a place for us to practise.”
Harry sat up straighter and Hermione smiled.
“Your first lesson is Friday, professor.”

Lots of time skipping here and not as long as I wanted it to be but here we go. Yeah Harry is a stubborn mopey git right now but he was in book five as well (angst angst angst). Anyway that’s what I got and I’ll see you guys in chapter twenty-nine. Don’t forget to leave your thoughts, what you loved, what you hated, or some ideas of how you’d like it all to go even. Thanks again, Nina
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A Marriage of Convenience