Smoke and Mirrors

The Ravenclaw chaser was moving in excess of 60 kph when the hex hit her. Her broom, a Cleansweep Nine, disintegrated under her and tumbled her nearly 30 meters to the ground. Fortunately her Head of House, Professor Flitwick, was able to catch her with an extremely fast leviosa charm before she hit. Madame Hooch landed scant seconds behind her, pulling out of a near-perfect Wronski Feint maneuver that still would have made her late to the rescue if it hadn't been for the Charms instructor. Hooch called for time out and made sure every student airborne was grounded under her hawkish eyes before she turned back to the small knot gathering around the chaser.

"It didn't feel like anything," the fifth year was saying to Dumbledore, absently fingering a hole in her Quidditch robes where a piece of her broom had shot through, narrowly missing her.

"Yes…yes, well the important thing is that you're all right, thanks to the quick thinking of Professor Flitwick." He nodded to the Ravenclaw Head and turned to the other instructors, leaving the student in Flitwick's care. "Did you see anything, Xiomara?"

Madame Hooch raised one arm to point in the direction of the stands she'd caught a flash from, just before the chaser had been hit, but the voice they heard when she opened her mouth to describe it was much deeper.

"Gryffindor," it snarled, dark and thunderous as an approaching storm, and holding twice the ice. The three professors turned to watch Severus Snape stride across the field. His black robes flowed around and behind him like a dark wake in deep waters, his face impassive save for the gleam of triumph in his eyes.

"Gryffindor?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow. "Explain yourself, please, Professor Snape."

Snape answered by stepping to one side and revealing a young boy dressed in Slytherin colors. Under the green and silver the boy was no more than twelve and looked half-triumphant and half-terrified, blue eyes wide and fair skin an almost dead white under a messy tangle of dark brown hair. His wand was gripped tight in one hand, and there was a slight graze along one cheek that was already starting to darken.

"Mr. Edwards, isn't it?" Dumbledore addressed the boy gently but gravely. "What can you tell us about this? Anything at all will help."

The young Mr. Edwards swallowed twice before he was able to speak, well aware that his Head of House was standing right next to him; a thing that should have been a comfort, but all things considered was anything but. "If you please, sir, it was Daniel Hastings that started it."

"You see Albus? I've told you time and again those brats are going to get somebody killed!"

Dumbledore held up a hand to stop the flow of words from Snape's mouth. "Yes, yes, Severus, and you may gloat later. Continue, Mr. Edwards."

A little braver now, he did. "Mr. Hastings cast a hex on Prudence Fairchild, only she saw it coming and did something to stop it, but instead it just went onto the field, and well, everybody saw what happened then."

Snape purred in triumph. "I demand, Headmaster, that Daniel Hastings be expelled immediately. He is, demonstrably, a danger to the other students."

"Hmmm," Albus nodded back, stroking his beard. "What you say has some merit to it, Severus. But I think, first, that I'll have both Miss Fairchild and Mr. Hastings up to my office, as well as yourself and Professor Potter."

"Potter! That…that…." Snape turned green with the effort to choke off what he wanted to say.

"Hero? Defender of the Wizarding World? Head of Gryffindor House? Best Defense teacher we've had in years?" Dumbledore smiled, a smile of warning, waiting to see what Severus would do next. One of the few things he wouldn't stand for were staff insulting each other, at least not in view of the students, and he was well aware the Potions Master knew it.

Snape drew a deep breath. Then another. The rising tide of rage had to be diverted before it consumed him, so as he had for years he turned it to ice; green ice with a heart of white flame. "As you wish, Headmaster. In an hour?" His voice was as devoid of humanity as he could make it and still speak intelligibly; the tone made young Mr. Edwards blanch as white as a Hogwarts ghost, while both Hooch and Flitwick eyed him uncertainly, wondering if perhaps a couple of those rumors they'd heard were true. Just because they didn't know any potions that required human sacrifice, in no way meant Snape didn't.

Albus Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but beyond that simply nodded agreement and waved the Potions Master off before turning to sooth the ruffled feathers left behind. Perhaps some chocolate….

**

When the door to Albus's office finally closed behind the two chastised students, their sighs of relief were echoed by the teachers left behind.

Dumbledore faced the two professors seated across his desk from him and studied them. Severus sat to his right, swathed in his black wool armor from neck to toe. In dim lighting, Albus knew, his Potions professor's hair blended with the black and could give the eerie impression of Snape being nothing more than a face and hands floating in air; only the force of personality, revealed at the moment in the gleam of his eyes, kept him from being mistaken for something unearthly.

Harry Potter sat to the left of the desk, and it was a very different man than the young almost-adult who'd left Hogwarts almost seven years before. Not tall, he'd added bulk, mostly along his back and shoulders; from using Godric Gryffindor's sword, Albus realized. Black hair a little longer, usually tied back, a few strands still hanging over his forehead and covering up the infamous scar. Years of fighting the Dark Lord, the battles larger and more intense as time went on and Voldemort gained in power and positioning, had left their mark; the green eyes weren't quite as open as they'd once been, and both they and his face were usually more difficult to read. Right now, though, he looked as uncomfortable as any child caught with their hand in the biscuit tin.

"Truly, Albus, I hadn't realized quite how serious the problem had become," Harry broke the silence. "Although, I have to admit that kidnapping the Fat Lady was brilliantly done." He essayed a smile at the other professor that quickly faded when it met with nothing but stone and ice.

"The Houses, as they've always done, take their cues from their Heads of House. They see yourself and Severus at odds, and simply follow where you lead."

Harry shifted in his chair, trying to convince himself that the thing wasn't being deliberately lumpy; unfortunately long experience with Albus's furniture told him otherwise. Finally he sighed and apologized again. "You're right, Albus, and I'm truly sorry I didn't see it sooner. I'll see to it the troublemakers on my end are punished. Perhaps a detention with the Potions Master will help?" He tried another tentative smile with the same results.

"That might make a start, Harry, but I think one with Professor Flitwick as well would go even further, " Albus added, pleased at Harry's quick nod of agreement. He'd never quite understood the animosity between Severus and Harry; the two always seemed to meld together so seamlessly when on missions for the Order, accomplishing more than any of his other teams. And since Severus was no longer keeping up even the pretence of a welcome at Voldemort's side, he seemed to take even greater pleasure in thwarting the plans the Order learned of. Perhaps that was why; they kept all their hostility pent up for the sake of the mission, and thus it was twice as bad when they were free to release it.

Albus thought while he waited for Severus to consider the detention offer. No, that didn't seem right. Really, one didn't see that much anger without somebody becoming very quickly deceased. Could they have become – what was the term he'd heard? Andrenal junks? They had become so accustomed to the thrill of the hunt that they couldn't do without it, and so substituted the mock combat of House rivalry for the fieldwork they weren't doing? Of course! Why hadn't he seen it before?

Snape ran a careless hand through his hair absently, brushing it to one side while he thought, coming to the reluctant conclusion that Dumbledore was correct; Slytherin and Gryffindor had gone far beyond simple house rivalries. Besides, Potter was showing that Gryffindor honor again, taking the initiative by offering his student up for punishment for his misdeed. Now he, Snape, would be forced to concede something. "One night with myself, and a second with Flitwick should satisfy us all. And," he hesitated. "And if Mr. Potter will agree to keep a civil tongue in his head, I will as well." There. That was as far as he could go.

Harry snorted. "That's so like you; put all the blame on me. Like you've never said anything."

"I?" Snape waved a hand in dismissal. "I only defend myself when attacked."

"Enough, gentlemen," Dumbledore interrupted before they could really get going. "I'm willing to take your words on your ability to maintain a pleasant working environment, but just in case something distracts you, let me give you each a token to remind you." He dug around in his desk for a moment, ignoring the anxiety that built in the silence. "Ah, here we go."

Albus extended an open ring box, ignoring the identical apprehensive looks the two teachers exchanged, temporarily united in the face of their employer's whimsical sense of propriety. "Well go on then, I assure you they won't bite."

Cautiously the two extended their hands and each picked up one of the rings Albus meant to use as tokens. Each man knew there had to be some sort of spell on them to assure they adhered to their promise of civility; it was just – with Albus Dumbledore, one could never be quite sure that his definitions lined up with yours.

Snape looked his over carefully, noting Potter doing the same out of the corner of his eye. A plain silver band, set with the Hogwarts crest in silver on black. While the workmanship was superb, it appeared to be nothing more than one of the alumni rings given out to honors students. Cautiously he slipped it on, feeling the ring size itself to his hand as it was supposed to. He frowned; really, could Albus be keeping to the letter of his word and these were just tokens to remind them of their promise?

Suddenly, the Hogwarts crest gleamed and writhed, the pattern settling into something else while at the same moment he caught the downward swish of a wand in Dumbledore's hand. Cursing himself for still trusting the man after seeing his duplicitous nature in action, Snape realized what Dumbledore was about to do. He lunged for Potter, planning on knocking the ring from his hand.

"Potter, no! Don't—"

"Contractus Conjugatori!"

"—put the ring on."

"What?" Harry blinked against the blindness left by the flash of light from Dumbledore's spell.

Snape sighed and dropped face to his hand, easing back into his chair. "Never mind," he mumbled into his palm. Wearily he lifted his head and dropped his hand, trying to ignore the weight of the ring on his finger. "All right, Albus; what are your terms?"

" 'Terms'?" Harry cut in sharply and glaring at each man in turn. "What do you mean, 'terms'?"

"If you had bothered to take the Law and Magic course with your two cronies Granger and Weasley, you'd know."

"Well since I wasn't expecting to live more than a week past graduation, excuse me for not seeing the point of taking a pre-auror class!" Harry bit back at him.

"Law and Magic is much more than a pre-auror class," Snape snarled, leaning over the arm of the chair towards Harry. "It covers many of the basic—"

"Children!" Dumbledore's voice cut between with the crack of a riding crop against leather. Snape's mouth snapped shut and they both turned back to the Headmaster. Albus gentled his voice and turned to the younger of his two students. "Harry, the Contractus Conjugatori spell is used primarily to enforce verbal contracts where there is an element of," he paused, searching for a good word. "Mistrust. Yes, mistrust; or possibly misunderstanding, between the two parties."

"I…see," Harry said slowly, sinking back in his chair, not really sure he did but beginning to get an inkling. He and Albus had become very close in the years since Harry had completed Hogwarts; working under the Headmaster's direction in concert with the Weasley Administration at the Ministry in the war aimed at Voldemort's defeat, Harry had come to realize they were very alike, the two of them, in their understanding about choices and how they affected one.

"No, I don't think you do, Potter." Snape's voice was low and velvety; the stuff darker dreams were spun from. Very. Dark. Dreams. A casual listener would think he was addressing a lover, rather than attempting to rebuke a long-term pain-in-the-arse. "It's also used for arranged marriages and the like, where it's suspected that the two involved aren't likely to feel…affection for each other. To ensure an heir, you understand. As well as insuring the couple lives past the wedding night."

Harry glanced at the Headmaster and then back to Snape, forcing himself to relax his grip on the arms of his chair. He chose his words carefully, trying to feel his way along Albus's line of reasoning, something that could loop back on you or veer off into odd directions at any moment. "That's…a fairly horrible thing…for everybody, I'm sure. Especially the children. But how does that pertain to us?" Pertain. Ugh, he was starting to sound like Snape.

"Now really, Severus, that's quite enough. Harry," Albus jumped back into the conversation and turned it to where he wanted it. "I assure you, this spell has been used in the past for just such a purpose, but it has other uses as well. Besides, " he gave Severus a mildly reprimanding look, "using contractus as part of a marriage ceremony is only done these days by the Dark."

"Indeed. I'm sure…Draco…would agree readily enough." Snape rearranged his hands in his lap, his words and tone mild, his expression solid ice. "Now again, Albus, what are your terms?"

Fawkes chose that moment to leap into Dumbledore's arms. The rearranging necessary to accommodate the phoenix gave the elder wizard a few extra moments to select his words. "As I mentioned, my dear boys, the Houses take their cues from you, their Heads." He leaned back a bit to allow Fawkes to drape his long neck along Dumbledore's chest and shoulder. "So, for the next week, the two of you will show them the true spirit of cooperation. You will be spending all your time together; that includes teaching class, as well as walking, eating, and sleeping in proximity. May I suggest combined classes? Defense Against Dark Potions, or perhaps Potions Against Dark Arts?" Albus reached across his desk for his sweets jar, careful not to dislodge the purring bird from its bed. "That sounds fascinating; perhaps we should think about making that a senior seminar, or a summer session class."

"Teaching together? Eating? Sleeping?!" Harry exploded out of his chair. "Albus, are you insane?" He slammed his hands down on the Headmaster's desk. "We'll kill each other inside of the week! You might as well just call the Ministry now and arrest us both as a precaution." He flung his arm out and took two long steps towards the fireplace, wanting as far from Snape as he could get when he felt the familiar twist and tug in his stomach that meant a portkey had been activated. Before he could so much as gasp a warning he landed with a thud and an oof!

When the shock subsided, he found he hadn't gone very far. He was sitting across Snape's lap, legs dangling over one arm, his back against the other, and Snape himself eyeing Harry with a look of cold disgust.

"Five feet?"

"More or less." Albus shrugged, hands spread. "It is only for a week, Severus."

"Right, then." Snape gave Harry a hard shove to the floor before he stood up and stepped over Harry's prone figure. "Well, Potter, get up. You'll have to pack enough for at least a couple of days until I can figure out what to do with you."

"Me?" Harry glared at the taller man while he struggled from the floor. His robes tangled around his feet and legs made him less than graceful. "Why do I have to move? I'd think it would do you some good to live in one of the towers. Get some fresh air and sunshine. It might improve your disposition." The DADA professor finally managed to untangle his robes and brush them straight.

"Firstly, Mr. Potter, my Slytherins were the initial wronged party —" Snape snarled, incensed to the edge of his temper.

"Wronged? If your precious little vipers hadn't —"

"Ahem!" Albus interrupted, gently but firmly. "While we could continue this debate all the way back to the founding of the Houses, let's not. Harry," he turned to the young professor, "Professor Snape is the senior staff member here, so for the time being you will resided in the dungeons with him. However," he hurried to continue before Harry had time to do more than growl at Severus' triumphant smirk. "Harry does make a good point, Severus. You know I've been after you for years to spend more time out of doors, so during the daylight hours Harry will determine whether you'll be indoors or outdoors. Outside of classes, of course," he added, fishing through his tin again and finally selecting a small cinnamon bear that he offered to Fawkes.

"Fine," Snape bit out. "Sometime this year, Potter." He gestured towards the door.

With a resigned sigh, Harry started out the door and began the long climb to his quarters, highly conscious of the storm cloud that followed him. What he wanted right now, more than anything, was some time to sort out what he was going to do. Rivalry between the students was fine, but outright violence was unacceptable. Albus had every right to be royally ticked off at he and the Slytherin Head, and finding some way to repair the damaged trust between them and Albus, as well as between the Houses, was going to be tricky. Harry grinned. He might even need to be somewhat…Slytherin…about it.

And they were going to need privacy for that discussion, one of the few things in short supply at Hogwarts. Harry glanced back at the man trailing two steps behind him and flicked his fingers in one of the field signs they'd developed together over the years. The Potions Master met his glance with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing.

Deep breath and a right turn, up two more flights to his room in the Astronomy Tower above the Divinations classroom but below the Observatory and they were there. Harry muttered the password and swung open the door, fervently grateful he'd changed it last week; 'banana slug' would have gotten him hours of teasing and been near impossible to explain. He shut the door behind them and locked it for good measure.

" 'Second choice'? An odd password, Professor Potter." The older man's voice held an odd calm. The comment, which could so easily have been rendered in his usual cold sneer and turned handily into a slight on Harry's intelligence, at his need for easily remembered passwords, instead came across as simply polite conversation. While he spoke, the Potions Master glanced around the room, sharp eyes missing nothing while he checked the room for inconsistencies, Harry moving silently behind him wand at the ready.

"Yes, well, it's from the Sorting Hat thing," Harry replied absently, trying to match the tone while moving to the point to check his study, confidant that Severus was right behind him and ready to deal with any unsavory surprises.

" 'Sorting Hat thing'," Snape glanced around the room, keeping his voice level and disinterested. He checked the window while Harry opened and closed cabinet and closet doors.

"You don't know that story?" Harry snuck a quick look and a shy smile while he finished the last closet and headed for the Defense classroom. Harry had moved it from the west wing two years ago, after thoroughly reviewing and updating the curriculum and altering the new space to handle the stresses the class routinely caused; next to the Potions room in the dungeon and Albus's quarters, the Defense classroom was the safest place in Hogwarts, and while it had one of the best views of the surrounding lands, neither Harry nor Snape had lived through some of their missions together without learning – and teaching – caution, so it was also one of the most defensible. "I thought Albus would have told you, since you're Head of Slytherin; it's originally where the Sorting Hat wanted to put me."

"Fortunate for us all, perhaps, that it didn't. Although if it had you might have learned the meaning of the word restraint, something I can only think would have stood you in good stead." Severus passed by him and into the classroom, the two of them checking nooks, crannies and chandeliers for anything out of place.

" 'Restraint'," Harry quoted, " 'an act or instrument that inhibits or constrains, as a shackle.' " He flicked his wand and cast the strongest privacy wards he knew of on the classroom, then followed a scowling Severus into his study and watched him do the same.

" 'Restraint', " Severus kept his voice coolly steady, " 'discipline in personal or social activities'. Your turn, Professor Potter."

"Sorry, that's the only definition I know." Harry waggled his eyebrows and grinned while setting the last set of wards. He collapsed back across the end of his bed, bouncing slightly, certain that not so much as a dust mote could wander in undetected.

A shift in angle told him Severus had settled on the bed as well, and Harry rolled to his side and studied the older man. At close to fifty Severus Snape was just entering his prime as a wizard. Over the past few years his hair had gotten slightly longer, brushing just below his shoulders, and the stress of war had added a few lines to his face, but that same hair was just as thick as ever and the eyes in the craggier face were just as clear and piercing. Harry reached over and grasped the pale, elegant hand that rested on the bed, turning it so the ring that decorated Severus's finger gleamed in the light. Under his touch Harry could feel the near-invisible lines of scar tissue that laced across both hands and disappeared into the heavier cobwebs of thickened tissue left from Voldemort's capture of the former Death Eater.

After the Tri Wizard Tournament, Harry had spent the summer with a series of blinding headaches that centered on his curse scar. When he'd started to see glimpses of what the Dark Lord was doing, and whom he was doing it to, Harry had written to Dumbledore. Within the week he'd been returned to Hogwarts and become part of the rescue effort. Over the years Harry had been very careful to not point out that if the Headmaster had been a little more forthcoming, Harry could have told him that Voldemort knew Snape was a traitor and had a long series of plans centering around the fate of one Hogwarts Potions Master.

Harry had spent a good portion of his fifth year helping Severus heal, only partly out of guilt for not realizing what Dumbledore intended and making sure the Headmaster understood that Voldemort knew about Snape's double life. After the tenth time the irascible man had attempted to run Harry off by putting the rough side of his tongue to use, Harry finally lost his temper. Slam! went the bowl of applesauce he'd been trying to coax Severus into eating, jumping out and slopping over the night stand.

"Haven't you heard of a wizard's debt?" Harry had demanded.

"Of course I have, Potter, it's what saved you from falling off your broomstick your first year here," Snape sneered back. "What's that got to do with anything? All debts are paid, there's nothing more between us because of your father."

"My father, yes," Harry admitted. Although not as far as you're concerned, is it? he mentally asked the injured man. "But didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you?" he continued aloud. "The trap you sprung was meant for me. And if I'd been the one caught, nobody would have known until the first day of term when Voldemort had Malfoy dump my body on the front steps."

Severus had never been able to come up with an answer. Harry let the matter drop but the memory of the look on Snape's face was something he'd cherished.

Long, cool fingers stroking along the side of his face brought him back to the present and Harry smiled up at the frowning countenance of his sometime-lover. "You were miles away," Severus said softly, the words half a question.

"Years," Harry corrected, cupping his own hand along the side of Severus's face, fingers tangling in the fine black hair and thumb tracing one sharp cheekbone. He tugged lightly and Severus yielded to his urging, leaning down to brush his mouth against Harry's. Thin lips moved against fuller ones, and Severus nipped at Harry's lower lip before sucking lightly. Harry's mouth opened in response, his tongue extending an invitation of it's own. Cautiously their mouths greeted each other, long absence making them clumsy in their eagerness.

Severus pulled back before their play turned serious, dipping for one more kiss before moving completely away from the younger man splayed across the bed. "I think," he said slowly, "that this is, without a doubt, one of the most disastrous ideas that barmy old man has ever had."

"Yes," Harry agreed, rolling over and crawling across the bed to where Severus was propped against the headboard. "Imagine trying to get two people as opposite as we are to get along by making us stay together constantly."  He snaked his way inside Severus's embrace and rested his cheek on a wool-covered shoulder. God, this was the most comfortable he'd been in months. After their last mission they'd managed to hide out for a weekend at a small bed and breakfast in Canada; that had been the last time they'd had any private time together. And now Albus was practically guaranteeing an entire week, right in the middle of Hogwarts!

"I wish he were dead," Harry muttered into Severus's neck. He felt the older man start in surprise.

"Albus?"

"No, Voldemort." Harry tsked at him. "Idiot," he added fondly. Silence wrapped around them and Harry found himself starting to doze. Severus threw off heat like a furnace, something Harry appreciated greatly, especially when they were in colder climates.

"We'd best be going, I think," Severus said finally, waking Harry from his doze.

"Why? Let's just stay here. Nobody's going to get in before dawn with those wards up," Harry mumbled, on the verge of waking and trying to decide whether to go back to sleep or pounce on the warm body next to his.

Severus yanked on a handy ear, lips twitching at the indignant yelp that followed. "Because I'm me and you're you and everybody knows that the greasy, poisonous, potions-making-bastard would insist that you move into the dungeons tonight, no matter how inconvenient. And there is quite a bit for us to discuss."

Grumbling, Harry dragged himself out of his cozy spot and reached for his wand. "Yeah, yeah, you're right." He flicked his wand and started directing several changes of clothing into a knapsack. "Of course there's also a lot of lost time to make up for." The look Harry gave him from under lowered lashes was just short of incendiary.

"Perhaps," Severus answered, rising and smoothing down his robes just so, overtly ignoring the expression on Harry's face. Under his robes he felt his body twitch at the implied promise. "We did agree to keep it out of Hogwarts, and all those reasons still stand."

"But if we were to admit to a relationship at the end of the week, I think he'd back off; it would appeal to the romantic streak in him. And I'm sure he'd understand the need for secrecy."

"How…Gryffindor," Severus drawled. "And what do we tell him when he finds out just exactly how long this has been going on?" He raised an eyebrow disdainfully.

Harry grinned back cheerfully, grabbing his knapsack and heading for the door. "Problems like that are why I'm dating a Slytherin."

"Harry," Severus said, reaching out and covering Harry's where it rested on the doorknob, just before they left. He waited for the younger man to look up, to show him in the windows of Harry's emerald green eyes just what he was feeling. There was pain there, and regret, and a soul-deep weariness, and something…sweet, that Severus wanted to make his own. "He won't live forever, you know; we've both done our share to see to that, and with any luck at all he'll try while we've got him overextended and vulnerable."

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed a lump at the gentleness in Snape's voice. It was what he wanted, after all, wasn't it? To not have to hide behind harshness and hate, in case somebody guessed that one of Voldemort's favorite targets was a hostage for the other? To have time to convince Severus their off-and-on relationship should stay 'on'? "And what then, Severus?" he asked, keeping the thickness out of his voice, not really sure he wanted the answer.

"Why, then, Professor Potter," Severus answered, opening the door and smiling grimly, "we blow away the smoke and cover the mirrors."