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Death Eater Takes a Holiday	By : LeeLeePotter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 42271 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 36
- 37
- 38
Warning: Harry has a very bad dream involving torture
to a family. If that disturbs you, read the first line of italics and
skip to the end of the italic section.

AN: Kieran is Scottish. I don�t think I will attempt to
write the accent. Use your imagination. Ok?

Chapter 38 The Sara Meeting

Harry sat in Dr. Erin's office. He never did ask her if she
used a time-turner, but noticed she never checked the time during his
appointments. She would end the sessions when she felt it was a good time to
stop for the day. The sessions tended to run around the hour mark, but were
sometimes less and a few times twice the length, depending on how productive
the meetings were. He could tell today's session was coming to a close as he
waited for her to retrieve something for him from the drawer in her desk. She
was looking for a very long time, when it occurred to Harry that the drawer
might have been spelled to hold a lot more things then appeared possible. With
a final 'Aha! Found it,' she produced a small box that Harry recognized
immediately. It looked like brushed chrome, but was too lightweight to be
metal. The box was sealed on all sides with the exception of a circle the size
of a silver Sickle on one side.

"Do you know what this is?" asked Dr. Erin

"Yes, it's a
Pensieve-Agitablis...something-or-other." Harry said with a snort.
"Severus dropped off a few of them for Albus. It's just like the pensieve
project we did with Professor Flitwick, only it's safer then a glass jar, and
an owl can travel with it safely & easily. I forget the long, stupid name
for them; I just call it a 'brain box'." When she raised a questioning
brow, Harry explained that he and Ron joked about it looking like they were
pulling a strand of their brain out and putting it into the pensieve. Since
then, he�d called it a brain box. "I'll use them to relay visions to
Albus. It's odd to think that I won't be able to just wake up and walk to his
office," said Harry

Dr. Erin tapped her wand on the circle, opening the box to
reveal the silvery contents. It was the shimmering pensieve liquid. "I
hadn't ded ded if I was going to use the 'brain box' with you," she
said chuckling at the new name. "There are mixed feelings amongst
psychologists regarding their use. Some Dr.'s believe in ridding the patient of
the overbearing memory by dulling it with the of aof a pensieve, until they are
better equipped to deal with it at a later date. I feel, by doing that, you are
only putting off the inevitable, making the issues harder to deal with later.
Certainly, in extreme cases, they have their place."

"Extreme?" questioned Harry nervously. He didn�t
think he was extremely screwed up in the head. Well� not anymore.

Erin Kirkland's eyes grew wide when she realized what she
had insinuated. "I was not referring to you when I said extreme," she
said adamantly. "You were allowed to deal with your problems head on, and
I think you are doing very well. The pens�brain box will serve a different
purpose for you now. Instead of locking away your memories, we can use the box
to take a closer look at them. Sometimes, as time passes we forget things, perhperhaps with the emotions running as high as they do in times of crisis, we
don't always remember things as they were. Memories get distorted. You will see
that looking at your memories from an outsider's point of view shows you a
totally new perspective of things. You may discover that things were not as bad
as you remembered, or you may find ways to handle the situation differently,
should the same problem arise in the future."

&n]>

Harry thought that made sense. It also explained why Severus
had asked permission to look at the memories Harry sent Albus of his visions.
Even if Severus were present at a meeting, it would give him a different
perspective, and perhaps he�d see a few things from before or after he arrived
at the Death Eater meetings that would help him piece together some important
information.

"Harry, I think you may want to consider talking to
Severus about your experience when Mr. Nott attacked youot; ot; said Dr. Erin.
Harry cringed. "You said earlier that your relationship has not progressed
physically, and I'm afraid that, while you may feel that you are doing well
dealing with the attack, things may change once your relationship does progress
sexually."

Harry didn't tell her that they had fooled around a little,
and he hadn't once thought of the attack during their little tryst. He was
grateful for someone to talk to about his relationship, someone who was mature
enough to discuss things and be unbiased. His curiosity about why Albus was so
sure it was safe to tell her everything had been answered in one of his first
sessions, when Dr. Erin referred to Albus as 'Uncle Albus'. Dr. Erin was not
his niece, but the widow of Albus' nephew, who had also been a member of the
Order. He had died many years ago during a mission. It was times like this that
Harry was reminded that many people died due to Voldemort, long before he was
even born. It was not his place to bear the guilt for the deaths that occurred.
His thoughts were so far from their discussion that it took him a minute to
realize Erin was speaking to him.

"�instead of you thinking of the attack by Nott, and
placing the memory in the box, I can cast the spell that would draw the
memories when you felt violated, or assaulted."

Harry laughed sardonically. "I don't think that box is
big enough for all that."

She looked distressed and explained the spell would be
specific to only encounters that were sexual in nature. Harry agreed to the
spell, and promised to discuss it further at the next session. He also promised
to give more thought to speaking to Severus regarding what had happened with
Nott. That was one conversation he didn't want to have.

~ * ~

Harry arrived with a pop, waking Hedwig momentarily. She
took in the sights, remembering that this was her new home, and clenched her
talons onto the new perch, settling back down to sleep. Harry walked into the kitchen, looking
around, still getting accustomed to having a place of his own. He grabbed one of the mismatched glasses
that Mr. Jennings, the landlord, had left in the kitchen cabinets, and sat on
the sofa with a cold drink.

The small 'brain box' wedged into his hip, and he pulled it
from his pocket to read the top. Dr. Erin had labeled the box, 'Death Eaters
Attack Quidditch Players'. He found it interesting that she would label it that
way, but was too tired to think too deeply about it. He would look at it, but
not yet. WDr. Dr. Erin had cast the spell, Harry had been shocked to find that
the attack from Nott and his cohorts was not the only memory that went into the
box. He decided not to mention the other memory just yet. As his thoughts
wandered from the attack to thts ots of his talk with Severus, Harry's eyes
began to close, his glass still in hand, balanced precariously on the sofa
against his thigh. His dreams were chaotic, and eventually turned to one of his
most dreaded reoccurring nightmares.

Originally it was a vision. He couldn't remember the exact
date he had the vision, only that it was in fifth year. It was by far one of
the worst he had seen that directly involved Severus. The one-time vision was
now a nightmare that would haunt his sleep every so often. Evenings following a
Potions class in which Snape was extremely annoyed would usually trigger him to
have the dream again. Harry hadn't had it for months, sometime before the
holiday.

~ * ~

Four wizards, three of whom were in black robes and
masks, were terrorizing a muggle family in the living room of their suburban
home. A man around the age of thirty-five had been badly beaten. His eyes were
almost closed from swelling, as a wizard who held him in a binding spell carved
patterns in the muggle�s forearm with a knife. Despite the beatings and other
horrific tortures, the man did not answer the questions put to him.

Harry's glass threatened to spill over as his arm twitched
in his sleep.

The man screamed, and continued to do so for what seemed
like an eternity. He screamed not for his own pain, but of that of his wife, as
the man binding him forced him to watch while another man brutally raped his
wife. The woman was gagged, but that only muffled her screams, as she was
assaulted by a man Harry knew was Severus. While one hand held her hip the
other gripped her throat as he thrust violently into her. "Sara!" the man cried out for his
wife. He called her name over and over again.

A small child, no older than two, sat on the floor crying
for his Mommy, as a slightly older sibling held him. She was silent, rigid with
fear, holding her little brother tightly.

Snape paused his assault, reaching into his sleeve to
extract his wand from a strap on his arm. No incantation could be heard over
the screams, but it was clear something was said, as the toddler suddenly
became quiet. Both children now sat silently, with vague expressions on their
small faces. The father continued to call his wife's name. "Sara!"

Suddenly, an angry voice belonging to Voldemort himself
berated the forth man for hailuailure, spurring him to participate. The forth man had been unmistakably
uninvolved throughout the interrogation and torture session. In response to
what must have been a challenge to prove his worth, he stood, extending his
shaky wand arm, and cast the Unforgivable. In a flash of green light, both
children were lying side by side; their lifeless eyes still hauntingly
open. The wizard, with his wand arm
still outstretched, stood paralyzed by his action, and then crumpled to the
floor in a heap of pitiful self-loathing.

The woman, now overcome with grief, could barely breathe
as she sobbed, her mouth still gagged. The hand on her throat pressed more
firmly; she thrashed until she too lay as still as the children not two feet
from her. Snape stood, cast a cleaning spell on himself, and then straightened
his robe as he listened to the Dark Lord reprimand the cowering Death Eater on
the floor.

"You are not worth the magic used to burn my mark
into your hide," hissed Voldemort. "This man," he said, pointing
to the husband who was still murmuring his wife's name, "this man has told
us nothing. Your interrogation proved futile.
He is now useless, as are you. Kill him."

/p>

With that command, the first wizard, who had bound the
husband, cut the muggle's throat and stood waiting his master's next command.
Voldemort looked down at the miserable one that had failed his test, and
casually cast the killing curse.

~ * ~

Harry's eyes flew open;
with a start he realized that his lap was soaked in pumpkin juice. He
unconsciously rubbed his scar, as if it hurt from the memory from long ago when
he�d felt the pain that had accompanied the vision. He thought back to when
he'd seen that scene for the first time. It had been the final straw that
convinced Albus and Madam Pomfrey that Harry should have supplies of potions in
his room. If his calculations were right, it was also around the same time
Severus had started using the impotence potion before Death Eaters meetings. He
wondered if it was �The Sara Meeting' as he now dubbed it, which had made
Severus start taking the potion that would prevent him for getting an erection.

He would never forget the
woman's name. He also remembered the following morning, when after little or no
sleep, Professor Snape taught his class. The man's face seemed to be made of
stone that day. He did not sneer when errors were made, nor did he give his
usual approving smirk to Malfoy when Draco taunted Harry. His face remained
void of expression through the whole class, and through every meal that day.
Harry did his best to brew a perfect potion that morning, giving the professor
little or no reason to complain. At the time, he wasn't sure if he was being
good for Snape's sake, or for his own safety. Probably both.

Harry went to his bedroom
and changed into a dry pair of pants. He couldn't help but think of what
Severus had said, that when Harry found more out about him, he would want to
run from any idea of a relationship with Snape. Harry knew that as a spy,
Severus would have to perform as a loyal Death Eater to keep his cover. But
could he honestly say that he was okay with this? He couldn�t easily say yes, but he couldn't argue the fact that
'The Sara Meeting' had happened long before he fell in love with Severus. Part
of him knew that he was just rationalizing to make himself feel better, but he
did love Severus. As he rationalized that he was ok with Severus acting as a
Death Eater, he remembered Severus had told him that now he was mostly brewing
potions for the Dark Lord.

Severus had researched
and produced many potions, not only for poisons and torture, but also very
complex potions created to accomplish various things, including Voldemort's
never ending quest for immortality. He had not succeeded creating that potion
yet, but he had developed many other nefarious creations. One of the �benefits�
of Severus' servitude was that he had free rein for the testing and use of
various potions that the Ministry would never have allowed him to develop.

Harry could tell himself
that Severus mostly brewed potions now, but he had to turn a blind eye to the
implications of their use. And, he couldn't argue that even if it had been a
long time ago, Severus still had done those other things. Harry�d had questions
about that night for a long time, and now that he had a supply of the pensieve
boxes, he decided to find out some answers.

After getting one of the
boxes from his bedside drawer, Harry sat at the kitchen table, siphoning the
memory into the pensieve 'brain box', and then took a closer look at that
memory of the vision that for so long had plagued his sleep. Harry was grateful
that his scar didn't hurt while close to Voldemort in a memory. He watched the
wizard asking the husband for information, but he never heard a direct
question. He still didn't know what was so important that the man would not
reveal the information, even if it meant his wife and children's lives. What
could be so crucial? Harry watched Voldemort more closely. The evil being stood
in silence for a long while, watching the proceedings around him. His red eyes
flashed with excitement as he watched Severus methodically go through the
motions. Harry noticed that Severus made sure that both the husband and
Voldemort had a good view of his actions. Although he wore a mask, it was easy
to tell Snape's face would show nothing, even if the cloth mask hadn�t been in
place. His every move was precise and with purpose, unlike the Death Eater
working over the husband, whose every motion was done with reckless
abandonment. It was as though that Death Eater had worked himself up for the
attack, and now just let loose while the adrenalin coursed through him.

Harry did his best not to
look at Sara, but needed to be close if he was going to get one of the answers
he so desperately wanted. It was nearing the time when the very small child's
screams would start to get to the Potions Master, and he would shoot a spell at
them. The very fist time Harry had the vision, all he had seen was an angry
Snape lash out as the screams became too much to bear. But later, Harry had
seen a repeat performance in a dream. Being only a dream, it wasn't accompanied
by the pain that the vision had carried. Without that pain, and looking at it
while awake, he now had a different, clearer perspective of what was going on.
He realized that Severus had never lost his cool the whole time, but Harry
still didn't know what it was the man had done to the children. For some
reason, it bothered him more to see that one thing done to a child, than the
other horrid things done to the adults in the room. Why the Hell had the Father
not told them what the attackers wanted to know?

The time was nearing and
Harry stepped closer to Severus, waiting, wishing the man would stop screaming
Sara's name long enough for Harry to hear the spell Severus had muttered under
his breath. Blocking out the other sounds as best he could, Harry concentrated
only on the voice he had come to love. "Obliviate," was the one word
spoken from beneath the mask. Snape had taken away the children's memory of the
violent attack on their family. Severus knew going in, that no one would be
left alive after they departed. Soon after, the Dark Mark hung in the night
sky, a green threat to all who saw it hovering above the suburban home.

Harry leaned back, taking
himself out of the memory; there was no need to watch it to the end. He had
some of his answers. Now, if only he could have some Dreamless Sleep potion for
the night ahead.

It was strange being in a
new bed, and Harry had almost thought he was back on Privet Drive when he
awoke. Oddly enough, the night was not as bad as Harry had expected. Maybe,
viewing the dream so many times had desensitized him. Most likely, not. Having
showered and dressed, Harry checked the clock on the wall. He had enough time
before his training to brew a pain potion. It was necessary to keep a fresh
potion on hand just in case. Hopefully, he wouldn't need it.

As he sorted through the
ingredients he had purchased the day previous, Harry was surprised to hear a
knock at his door. He drew his wand, ready for the worst, but couldn�t help but
smile when he realized that this was his first unexpected guest. He was still
getting used the fact that he lived there now. Harry whispered a quick-view
spell, allowing him to see who was at the door. It was Gwen Jennings, the soon
to be Master of Potions in Training.

"Gwen," he said
happily. The nervousness she felt faded at the sight of his bright smile.

"I hope you don�t
mind me showing up unannounced?" she asked. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, no, come
in," Harry said, stepping aside to allow her inside. He realized he wasn't
wearing any shoes when she seemed even taller than her usual few inches over
him. "I thought you would be off in Paris by now."

"Oh, I will be soon
enough, but I wanted to stop and see my Uncle before I left,&; sh; she said,
holding up a gold coin. "I got to collect on my winnings, thanks to
you," she said, pocketing the galleon. Harry had forgotten that her Uncle
had bet Gwen a galleon that she couldn't guess who was renting out the
apartment. "He was so shocked when I guessed right. I confessed and told
him that you had told me, but he let me have the coin anyway, saying he wanted
to give me some spending money for Paris."

Harry offered her a cold
drink and she told him of her plans for the summer. Harry showed her around his
new placnd snd she showed him where she used to hide, when, as a child, she had
played hide and seek with her brother. Gwen's mother had worked for her
brother-in-law at the shop downstairs and would bring Gwen and her brother with
her. Back then, Mr. Jennings had lived upstairs from his shop.

Spotting the ornate clock
on the wall, Gwen noticed the hand was moving into the 'Get ready for class'
position on the clock�s face. "What class are you taking?"

"Wizarding
traditions," he answered, before he realized she had seen the clock, which
was referring to the training with Severus and Kieran. It was just as well he
had a good answer for her, as he couldn't very well say 'Defense Against Death
Eater Attacks and the Eventual Battle with the Dark Lord.'

Knowing he had to get
going to his class, Gwen said good-bye to Harry. He told her that if she missed
potion brewing over the summer, she should stop by sometime. He had agreed to
let the twins brew potions there. Apparently, Molly had one too many explosions
at the Burrow and banned them from brewing concoctions for the joke shop there.
They were going to come by in a few days. Gwen said she might stop by, but
Harry doubted she actually would.

Harry looked into the
mirror, hoping that sweatpants and a tee shirt were ok dress for training. He
combed his hair, though it still had a tousled way about it. His hair was so
much tamer when it was long for the Formal, but he was glad it was short again.
He did not have the patience to brush it out every day.

With a 'pop', Harry was
standing in the large building Severus had shown him yesterday. The first
things to catch his eye were two men, both talking and reviewing a small book.
Severus gave a nod, acknowledging Harry, and finished talking to the man Harry
assumed was Kieran. The man stood just an inch shy of Sev's height, making him
several inches taller than Harry.

"Kieran, this is
Harry Potter," said Severus, as the two men walked over to Harry. "Harry
Potter, this is Kieran Donnelly."

"Mr. Donnelly,"
Harry said politely, offering his hand. The man had brown, wiry hair, just
above shoulder length. His tanned face was unshaven. His facial hair made him
look as if he was dirty, like a five o'clock shadow before noon. Kieran looked
around the room and behind him as Harry spoke to him.

"Mr. Donnelly?"
Kieran said with a hearty laugh. "I don't see my father in here." He
spoke with a Scottish accent, and his voice was rough, like someone who had
been smoking heavily for many years. "It's Kieran. I don�t trust people
who call me Mister," he said with a grin, and shook Harry's hand. Harry
also asked to be called by his first name, and he hoped Severus would not be
calling him Potter again. Harry found it funny that Kieran called Severus,
'Snape', although it was obvious they had been friends a long time. Kieran
looked like someone he would not want to cross paths with if seen in Knockturn
Alley, but he had a way about him Harry found very likable.

They showed Harry the
small book with a training schedule written up for him. The book was worn, and
had many names and schedules. They would use the book to plot his progress and
compare it to past trainees. There were no real names used, and Harry found
himself very interested to see what they would write in as a name for him.
Kieran told him they would put in a name for Harry when they found one they
felt �fit� him. p>

The first day would
consist not of training but of evaluation, to see what Harry knew in the way of
spells and physical ability. Harry had been in a dueling club, but Severus long
thought Harry was more capable than he'd let on. Severus, being familiar with
Harry's dueling technique, felt they should start out with Harry facing off
against Kieran. Severus conjured a chair, sitting with it facing the wrong way,
resting his arms over the back. Harry was taken by how at ease Severus was in
this place.

Kieran shook his head,
making his hair go in all directions. Harry distinctly heard a �crack� sound from
the man's neck. He grinned at Harry before giving a small bow. Getting into the
mood for a duel, Kieran began taunting Harry. "So," he said with an
unnerving grin. "I get to duel with the man who survived a duel against
the Dark Git himself. How do you suppose he managed that, Snape?"

"Dumb luck?"
Severus deadpanned.

Harry ignored him.
Determined to do well, he concentrated on the way the man held his wand and
moved about.

"Tell us, what's
your secret?" asked Kieran sarcastically, while throwing a Jelly�legs jinx
at Harry.

Harry easily jumped out
of its path, and replied with a grin. "I know when to run like Hell."

Kieran let out a hearty
laugh, and shielded Harry's attempt to hex him.

"A great many
wizards have fallen, for not knowing that lesson." Kieran said seriously.

Harry had found the
banter to be distracting, but soon realized it had stopped with Kieran's last
comment. They were now dueling in earnest. Harry did well, but it was clear
Kieran was keeping it within Harry's ability and not his own. He used curses
and hexes that were more advanced than Harry's, but not much more. Kieran
managed to deflect or dodge most of what Harry threw at him. One well-aimed
Tarantallegra had the Scot dancing fast. Harry, surprised by his accomplishment,
didn't hear the incantation "Cadeo-Vadosus", but felt shallow slices
cut into his skin as if invisible razors had come from the man's wand.

Harry continued as if
he'd not been hit, ignoring the stinging from his left side, searching his mind
for a spell to cast. He shielded what he could, and jumped out of the way of
what he couldn't. He searched his mind, surprised by how many spells he could
remember. He was thankful for the hours he, Ron and Hermione had spent looking
up spells that were not part of the prescribed curriculum at Hogwarts.
Sometimes Kieran would wait until Harry recovered from being hit with a hex,
while other times he took advantage and hit him with a second spell while he
was down, disabling him. Harry cast the few more curses and hexes he could
remember. When it was clear that Harry was starting to repeat himself, Severus
ended the duel with blue sparks from his wand. The duelers bowed, and Harry
dropped himself to the floor in exhaustion. Severus shook his head as he
watched Harry fall unceremoniously to the floor, watching the green eyes flash
as Harry smiled his tired smile at him.

"Not bad,
Harry," regarded Kieran. He was sitting on a hay bale, holding the
training book, marking off hexes he heard Harry use, which ones he was able to
deflect, and which ones hit him fuorceorce. "We�re going to work on your
reaction time, and what curses are easier to shield verses countering
them." Kieran finished checking off spells in the book and created a list
of spells he wanted Harry to learn. Severus took the offered list, giving it
his approval before passing it to Harry as 'homework'.

" I was surprised I managed to
hit you with something as basic as Tarantallegra," Harry said, sitting on
the floor with his legs crossed in front of him. "Not that it did me any
good," he mused.

"It's not worth the effort to
fend off that spell. I was able to get off a hex even danciquotquot; he
smirked. "At least it was enough to mess up my aim," Kieran said,
thinking the Cadeo-Vadosus had missed.

"Not quite," said Harry
sarcastically, and held up his tee, exposing his sliced-up side. Harry's jeans
were darkening at the top from the blood seeping down.

"Son of a bitch," Kieran
said humorously. "Snape, he didn't even flinch when it hit him. Remember,
Sheila dropped to the floor when I did that?"

Severus looked up from the list he
was still reading, and got up from his chair to have a look at Harry's injury.

"Sheila?" Harry asked,
wondering if they trained many women.

"Sheila was a bloke from
Australia we trained a few years back." Sev paused, thinking back.

"Didn't get too many pages
into the book, that one. Screamed like a girl." Kieran added with a laugh.
"Let me take care of that for ya'.

Harry paused a moment. For some
reason, dueling with someone wasn't the same as sitting still and allowing
someone raise a wand to your person. He�d learned that from Lockhart. Harry
looked to Severus, who gave him a reassuring nod.

"I'm a Healer; it's how I make my living," Kieran
said. Harry managed to control his lips enough not to blurt out his disbelief,
but his expression told all. "What? You think Healers are all women in
flowing robes with flowers in their braids?" the man said with a snort.
"Not that I haven't met some of them," he said with a low whistle.

To say Harry was shocked by Kieran's gentleness was an
understatement. He folded the shirt back carefully and studied the cuts as if
admiring his handiwork. The gruff looking man closed his eyes, whispered an
incantation, and the wounds were closed. In all his years having injuries
healed by Madam Pomfrey, Harry had never expered aed anything like it.

Severus explained that people like Madam Pomfrey were
trained to treat ailments and injuries, but true Healers were born with the
ability to do so. While they still received training, their healing ability
comes not from a remedy, but from within themselves. Harry was paying such
close attention to what Severus was saying, he yelped in surprise when Kieran
slapped his side where he'd been healed. "Good as new!" he said with
certainty, like a mechanic slamming closed the bonnet of a car he'd just fixed.

Severus grinned at Harry's shocked face when Kieran smacked
him hard. The Scot thought a person should not just feel well; they should feel
well enough to take a good hit. "Ready for battle", as he put it.

"Good. I'm ready to eat," declared Severus, who
took out a sack and began handing out sandwiches.

"About fucking time Snape! I'm starved," Kieran
said loudly. Grabbing two large sandwiches, he waved his wand over them.

Harry froze as he heard that familiar statement. It sounded
like what he heard from the fire that morning while lying on Severus' bed.
'About fucking time you lit a fire, Snape!' Harry remembered. Oh shit

"That hit the spot," said Kieran, having eaten his
first sandwich in a few bites. "Healing makes you hungry as Hell."

"That, and you�re a pig," Severus said dryly.
Kieran turned his head to Harry as if ignoring Severus' comment.

"Harry, don't let his high-brow bullshit fool you. If
he weren't puttin his his 'I'm the professor who demands respect� thing,
he'd be pigging out like me," he said, nudging Harry with a laugh. Harry
laughed too and looked to see Severus lips curling slightly.

"I am not his teacher anymore, and grateful of
it," said Sev, who was indeed grateful for reasons best left unsaid.

"Nah, see Harry," Kieran pointed to Severus.
"You only know him as the obnoxious professor, but trust me, he chills
out. He just won't admit it to you because he still thinks of you as a student.
He acts that way when he's trying to get laid, too."

Harry spit out his drink.

"I hardly think this is an appropriate
conversation," Severus glared at his friend, to no avail. It never worked
because Kieran always knew Snape wasn't really mad.

"I hardly a s a shit," Kieran
said, taking another sip from the bottle Severus handed him. He made a point to
drink with his pinky finger out, trying to annoy Severus, and Harry snorted in
laughter. It was rather funny to see him with his thick, dirty looking fingers
wrapped around a bottle with his pinky out. "While we�re on this
inappropriate conversation, Snape� I ran into Bill Weasley. Now I know why
you're so sure of your choice� long hair, and slender body. Was it Bill I saw
in your bed last week?" he asked with a wink, and another nudge to Harry.

"In my bed?" Severus asked incredulously.
"You never said anything about him being in my bed," said Severus
adamantly to Kieran. He didn't look in Harry's direction in the slightest, but
Harry heard the unasked question. Severus was thinking about Harry in his bed,
and wondered what else Kieran wasn't telling. He was an excellent spy, and
would never reveal his hand until necessary, especially when it meant harassing
Severus. Kieran smiled in a wicked way.

"Thought you knew who you were sleeping with," he
said sarcastically.

"Why do you insist on having this conversation?"
Severus said with a glare.

"Because with every word, Potter blushes." Kieran
had started out harassing his friend, but soon found it more fun to see Harry's
reaction.

Harry could feel the heat in his cheeks intensify. Who
knew lying down by a lit fire for two minutes would cause so much trouble?
It occurred to Harry to question why Kieran would think it was Bill Weasley in
Sev's bed. Severus did seem interested in the Weasley family lately, but Bill
wasn't the one who was gay. Was Kieran gay? Was he Severus' lover at some
point? There was the comment he made about women Healers though. Damn, too
much to think about.

Severus came to the re wit with a change of subject. Harry
was grateful. "Albus usually stops in during one of the training sessions
to see how things are progressing. He usually comes by for the second or third
session," said Severus, as he offered Harry another sandwich. Harry
declined politely. He was still hungry, but didn't want to look like a pig.

"Clean up, Harry, and we�ll meet you over there,"
Kieran said, pointing to the far side of the building.

Harry grabbed the empty bottles and stuffed half a sandwich
in his mouth as he cleaned up. "No sense in it going to waste," he
said to himself. Finding a bin, he dumped the trash and started putting the
bottles where he noticed other bottles on a shelf near the trash bin. Before he
could put up the last bottle, Harry felt something strange was happening. He
felt incredible pain coming from the back of his tongue, and felt his throat
start to tingle.

Severus turned to look in Harry's direction when he heard
the sound of glass breaking. Even from a distance he could see Harry's eyes
open wide with fear, just before he fell to the ground, unconscious.

LeeLeePotter@OptOnLine.net

Thank you for your revievs, especially
Blackrose
Littlelo
Mara
Kiri
Elementaldeity
Rubberduck (great name)
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Death Eater Takes a Holiday