* * * * * * * * * * *

Snape looked up with alarm. The proximity wards he'd set were going off, but he couldn't discern from the spell who it was. That wasn't a good sign. It meant the intruder was cloaked in some way, and was as powerful, if not more powerful, than he was. He checked the spells guarding the box deep within the cave; his only reason for lurking in this godforsaken damp hell. Well, not the only reason. He was guarding something valuable for Voldemort, ostensibly, now that he had the Dark Lord's trust again, but it was also a way for him to stay hidden from people who would kill him just as soon as look at him. And that included wizards on both sides of the battle.

Harry crept closer, carefully watching his footing. The invisibility cloak wouldn't help if he made too much noise. He had a fairly good lead on another one of Voldemort's horcruxes, an object that had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. He crept further into the mouth of the cave.

Still, no indication of who was about to invade the small room where Snape awaited. But at least he had more knowledge than the intruder; he knew someone was there. He waited, cloaked by a spell to blend with the shadows, and clutched his wand. He could use an immobilus spell, but if he didn't have a clear idea of where the person was, he could easily miss and give away his own presence. And there was no guarantee the intruder wasn't protected from such a spell. Best to wait. See if the person revealed themselves, wait for the right moment.

Harry moved closer, staying close to the wall. There was an entrance to another part of the cave and he held his wand aloft, ready for whatever might be behind the crude doorway. He slid inside, wishing he felt secure enough to cast lumos.

Snape waited for his chance. He had to do it. The intruder was almost to the entrance of the final, crucial chamber. He stilled, drawing in all his power, and cast the strongest immobilus spell he could muster. He hoped it hit its mark.

Harry stiffened. He'd been in mid step when the spell hit him, so he lost his balance and fell to the floor. The invisibility cloak fluttered around his feet revealing one worn trainer.

And as soon as Snape saw that shoe, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt whom he'd snared.

Potter. The last person on earth he wanted to see right now. Cursing under his breath, he cast a lumos spell, and reset the wards. "Bloody Potter," he muttered, striding to the boy's side. Anyone else, he could have dealt with. Not him.

Harry was helpless. He could see Snape looming over him, and he was filled with the deepest darkest loathing he'd ever felt.

Snape could practically feel the hate emanating from the boy as he knelt to pull off the invisibility cloak, rolling him over. "Well, I should have known it would be you, Potter," he spat. "Believe me, I'm no happier to see your face as you are to see mine." He regarded the boy, knowing he couldn't respond. He hadn't seen him in a good six months but the boy looked like he'd aged five years. No doubt he himself looked no better.

Harry frowned as much as he could, and blinked. He ground his teeth waiting for Snape to make a move.

Snape uttered a spell, and levitated Harry upright. He wished there was a way to un-immobilus just part of a person, but there wasn't. So he applied a spell to physically restrain Harry before releasing the previous spell. Now Harry was wrapped securely in vine-like restraints, and upright, but he could move as far as the restraints allowed him. Snape hoped it was enough, and that Harry's powers weren't enough to break his own.

"Snape," he spat, angrily. "You're lucky I can't move, you filthy coward," he snarled. He struggled against his bonds, fighting to still his mind enough to use a non-verbal spell to free himself.

Snape couldn't help himself; he enjoyed the sight of Potter helpless, and he smirked. "Filthy, yes, I'll grant you that," he said quietly. "But coward I am not. Just prudent."

"You *are* a coward, murdering Dumbledore when he was helpless, with three death eaters and a werewolf at your back." He was livid, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Surely you do not believe that even I could have killed Albus had he not wished it. Foolish child." He pushed away his grief for the moment. His oldest friend, the closest thing to a father he'd ever had, was dead at his hand, whether or not it had been necessary. But now was not the time for reflection.

"What could he have done? Your master sent Draco to kill him, so obviously it was possible! And he was ill. He'd just..." He shut himself up then, not wanting to reveal any more than he already had.

Snape scoffed. "Draco? Kill the greatest wizard that ever lived? The Dark Lord was a fool." He looked away. "Albus was dying. We needed a way to clear the Dark Lord's mind of suspicion where I was concerned. There was only one way." Dumbledore had been dying since he'd saved Harry's life. And he'd known it.

"You're lying! He would have been fine if you hadn't murdered him. And if he'd had his wand it would be you that was dead, as it should have been!" he spat.

"One would think that by your age you would be able to get past your childish emotions and see the truth," Snape sighed, standing in front of Harry and crossing his arms. "Why are you here?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'd be prepared to bet you know exactly why I'm here. You'd best get out of my bloody way, and if you run very far and very fast, I might not kill you."

Raising an eyebrow, Snape regarded the young wizard. "I am rather used to living under a death threat. You'll have to do better than that, Potter." He stepped closer, and said, "But the real question is what to do with you now. I certainly can't let you have what you came for." Suddenly he realized that he and the boy were completely alone. Even Voldemort didn't know exactly where this horcrux was hidden.

"Oh I'll leave here with what I came for. If it was all a setup to divert suspicion off of you, why not let me have it? I've found two of the four. He'll never know what hit him. What's the harm? Unless you really *are* a traitor," he sneered.

"You are just as naive as you ever were," snorted Snape. "Do you think the Dark Lord will not know exactly what has happened, as soon as you take it? And then Albus' death will all be for nothing. Is that what you want, boy?"

"I want to kill him, and you're standing in my way. So what are you going to do, Snape? Kill me? Keep me imprisoned? Take me to you lord and master? What's it to be?"

Snape laughed. "Would that I had the choice of what to do, brat." That led his mind down paths he could not afford to tread right now. "Of course I shall have to free you eventually. But not until I am certain you will not kill me the second I do so."

"There's only one way I won't kill you, Snape, and that's if you kill me first," Harry said impetuously, the anger over Albus' death still raging within him. "You told him about the prophecy. You sent him to kill me and my parents. Do you really think there's any way I would let you live?"

Snape stepped so that he was just inches from Harry. "Do you not think I have done things I regret?" he growled. "Have you never made mistakes?" He had to live with the things he'd done. He didn't need reminding of them by this infuriating boy.

"Oh well, that makes it all right then. You're sorry. I'll just be content with that. Its not as if I had to live without my parents and be hunted down by the greatest dark wizard of our own time my whole bloody life. Oh. Wait. I have! No wonder I won't accept your pitiful attempt at contrition."

It was too much. To be chastised by this impudent child who knew nothing of how he'd suffered for his mistakes... He lashed out before he could stop himself, striking the boy across the face sharply. He was breathing hard, his dark eyes blazing. "That is *enough*!" he spat.

Harry's head snapped to the side. He slowly lifted his head to look into Snape's eyes again. "Another example of your bravery. Striking someone who's unable to move. Impressive."

Snape's anger increased even more. "Idiot! When will you look beyond your own ego to see that there is something in the universe besides you!" He felt a tightening in his lower belly, and he paled. No. He would not let those feelings slip into this.

"I can see that there's other things besides myself. Voldemort for one. And you. But I'll be taking care of that in due course." He glared hatefully at the older man. His vitriol was far from spent.

Snape was still angry, but to his chagrin the anger was taking another course. He had more of a hold on his emotions now, because his energy was directed elsewhere. "I don't see just how you're going to accomplish that," he whispered silkily. "Seeing as you are completely helpless." He spoke the last two words with barely disguised relish.

"You'll have to release me eventually," he said with more bravado than he felt. "So tell me, how's life as a security guard treating you?" he asked.

"I daresay that taunting your captor with pathetic insults is not the best way to induce him to free you," Snape said conversationally, noticing just how broad Harry's shoulders had gotten.

"Oh, and why don't you tell me what the magic words are to entice you to release me so I can finish you off, get what I came for and be on my way, then?"

"Oh, I think not," Snape purred, enjoying himself now. "Not until you acknowledge the truth." And he was now enjoying this far too much. Buried fantasies of things he'd always wanted to do were bubbling to the surface, spurred by the sight of Potter bound and helpless.

"What truth?" he growled. "I thought you knew everything, Snape."

"I do not flatter myself so," the older wizard said mildly. "Unlike yourself. But I cannot have you running around trying to kill me when, of all those who have tried, you might actually have a chance." He realized he'd inadvertently complimented Potter.

"Look, if you let me take what I'm here for and go, I won't kill you right this moment." That was as far as he was willing to go. He meant to avenge his parents and Dumbledore, and that certainly included Snape.

Harry's wording made Snape smirk even more. "I don't think you're in a position to demand anything." The position Harry was in made Snape think of the things he wanted.

Harry scowled again. He pressed his lips together, and tried to clear his mind. If he could just raise his wand a little. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, trying to keep his opponent talking.

Snape smiled, and he knew by experience it was not a comforting sight. "Whatever I please," he breathed, letting himself think about it. Not that he was going to allow himself to do that to Potter.

Harry's blood ran cold at Snape's tone, and he paled. "You can torture me all you like. It won't make a difference. I'll still do what I came here to do, one way or another."

"Torture wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Snape replied, voice dropping as he regarded Harry. No longer a boy, but a young man. Not that Potter's youth had kept Snape from fantasizing about him. He'd never claimed to be ethical. At least he hadn't acted on it.

Harry's brow furrowed. He felt relieved on some level, though he tried not to show it. "I'll believe that when I see it. I've gotten better at Occlumency, Snape. You won't get any information out of me, you know." He watched him warily.

"Nor is it information I want," Snape said, smirking more widely. He was well on the way to being aroused, and once he'd started thinking about it, he couldn't stop.

"What, then?" he asked sharply. "You don't seem inclined to kill me, or torture me. What the hell do you want?"

"You really *are* naive, aren't you?" Snape said, eyes flicking down Harry's bound body. The anticipation was delicious, and he was starting to remember just why he loved these kinds of games. Not that he'd had the luxury of indulging for many years...

Slowly it started to dawn on Harry, and his eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't dare," he breathed, horrified.

"Wouldn't I?" Snape replied, warming to the subject. The fear in Potter's eyes made it even better. "After all, you've already told me you're set on killing me. Might as well make it... worthwhile..."

"You fucking pervert. Let me go." He was panicked now, and any thought of calming his mind was now lost.

Harry's anxiety only made Snape harder. "Language, Potter. I don't think this is the time to antagonise me. I can do *whatever* I want to you." His heart rate had increased just a little, as he watched the boy's reaction.

"Look, Snape, you don't want me. You hate me, remember?" He hated the sound of his own voice, but he was helpless, at least for the moment.

"I never hated you, that was *your* childish assumption," the older man replied. "Besides, you don't have to like someone to want to *fuck* them." He enunciated the word precisely.

Harry whimpered a little. This was worse than his worst nightmare. "It'd be pointless to say I'll never forgive you for this, considering you've ruined my life several times over. You really are evil, you know that? And the most upsetting thing about that is knowing that the greatest man I've ever known trusted you."

Harry's words felt like a knife in Snape's heart, but he wasn't going to let the boy know that. In his present state, though, anger just fueled his desire, and his need for control. "Really, you're so dramatic, Potter. Do you think if the Dark Lord got hold of you, you'd escape such treatment?"

"I wasn't planning on letting him breathe long enough to find out," he said, his voice trembling with rage. His only chance was to fight his way away from Snape when he unbound him, which he'd surely have to do if he was serious about his intentions.

Harry's impotent anger was more than arousing to Snape. It made him breathe faster. He couldn't help himself. He was sexually dominant, and Harry was helpless and appealing. There was no one to stop him. He could just toy with Harry, then let him go. No one would be the wiser...

"Did Dumbledore know you were secretly lusting after all the little boys in your care? Did you fuck Malfoy? He certainly seemed to have his lips permanently attached to your arse the first four years he was at school."

Snape laughed at Harry's show of bravado. "Draco? Hardly. Not my type. Besides, I do believe Lucius was the only one Draco had eyes for." He wasn't sure if those rumours were true, but he really didn't care to know. "And I don't think you qualify as a 'little boy' any longer. You are over the age of majority, after all." He reached out and traced his finger along the line of Harry's jaw. "Interesting you should mention Draco, though. Is he who *you* lusted after?"

Harry gasped. "No!" he said with a look of disgust. "I... I didn't lust after anyone but Ginny," he protested. "And certainly not that pointy-nose, rat-faced git."

"Oh, come off it," Snape said disparagingly. "Don't try to pretend you're completely heterosexual. I can *tell* these things." He regarded the boy for a moment. "Even if you're deeply in denial, don't deny it to yourself," he said, voice deep and low.

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm not pretending anything. I was too busy fighting for my life to think about any of that, if you'll recall." In truth there had been a time, and it came back to him with uncomfortable clarity. During Occlumency lessons when Snape had been trying to read his thoughts. He blushed when he thought about it, and lowered his eyes.

And Snape noticed the blush. "Did you just think of something interesting, Mr. Potter?" he purred. "Something to do with denial? I hardly need to be a legilimens to read you right now." He was really having far too much fun toying with the boy, and he couldn't bring himself to stop just yet.

"Fuck off, Snape," he said through clenched teeth. He certainly wasn't going to tell him what he'd thought of. He'd rather die.

"Ah, hit a nerve, have I?" Snape smirked. He trailed a finger down Harry's chest, touching very lightly through the robes. He concentrated on entering the boy's thoughts, just to see if he was right.

Harry could tell what he was doing, and he threw up a vision of Dumbledore crumpling to the ground as the greenish glow of the killing curse faded away with his life force. It was spiteful, he knew, but it would also show him if Snape had any remorse at all.

Snape winced at the image. "Clever, Mr. Potter. Pity you didn't show this kind of promise in your studies." He threw back another image, of Harry naked and writhing, bound to a bed. It was certainly what Snape was thinking of.

Harry gasped again. It was frightening to see Snape thinking about him in such terms. He blocked the image out and thought of the worst thing he could, purely to punish Snape. Snape's own memory of Harry's father hanging him upside down on the front lawn of Hogwarts. Instantly he regretted it. As mortifying as he knew it to be to Snape, it also tarnished the image Harry had of James Potter, and for that reason he'd all but banished it from his thoughts.

"Really, Potter. I'm disappointed. If you want to involve your father in this, I could tell you things about him and his friends that you'd really rather not know."

"I'm surprised you haven't already. So it's not torture exactly. Its mental torture, is it? Go ahead. I've come to terms with the fact that my father was no angel." Still, he didn't want to hear it. Things were different, then. The first war hadn't even happened yet. Surely spoiled and popular and arrogant at 15 did not equal evil.

"Oh, but I'd much rather talk about *you*," Snape whispered, letting his hand stray lower. "And what you're trying to hide from me. And yourself."

"You'll have to Imperius me to get it out of me, Snape. Not that I'd put it past you. Unforgivables seem to be your specialty."

"Again, Potter, weak. I've been teaching brats far more intelligent than you for many years." Snape tugged at Harry's robes and whispered a spell, and suddenly his robes were open, yet Harry was still bound.

Harry swallowed hard. "Just get it over with, then, you greasy old pervert," he hissed.

"Oh, but it's not that simple," Snape breathed, fully aroused now. He still didn't intend to go all the way with this. But Harry had made him angry, and he wanted to punish him by pointing out how helpless he was. He toyed with the button of Harry's trousers. "I think you like this more than you want to admit."

"Fat chance. How could anyone be aroused by an ugly, greasy old outcast like you?" He was angry, and desperate, because he knew Snape would shortly realize that he was at least partially aroused.

Snape could sense the desperation, and he thought perhaps it was due to something more than Harry was letting on. That feeling spurred him on, pushing him past what he'd thought he'd allowed himself. It made him run his long, elegant fingers lower. To see if he was wrong.

Harry bit his lip and turned his face away in shame, closing his eyes. How could he help his body's reaction?

Snape's smile grew. He hadn't been wrong. He traced his fingers over the hardening line in Harry's trousers. "Well, well, Mr. Potter," he whispered, voice at its most silky. "It appears that parts of you are not in denial."

Harry grimaced. "Gratifying for you, I guess," he said bitterly. He felt ashamed, but it felt good, too. "I don't imagine you'd stop if I asked you to, would you."

"No," Snape answered immediately. He could feel Harry hardening even further under his fingers. "I thought I disgusted you, Potter? This says otherwise." He rubbed slowly up and down the boy's arousal.

"Congratulations. You can make an 18 year old boy hard by touching his cock. I'm sure that was a difficult feat. Did you need any special training for that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, although he still couldn't look at Snape.

"Oh, please. Teenage boy or not, you're bound and being menaced by, as you said, a greasy old pervert. Why am I surprised that you're still aroused?" Smirking, Snape unfastened the button of Harry's trousers. Feeling the boy's arousal spurred on his own, and he wasn't thinking with his brain.

"Stop it," he said, his jaw clenched tightly. He stopped short of saying 'please' though. He couldn't bring himself to beg.

"I think not," Snape purred, sliding his hand into the opened trousers. "Ah, so The Boy Who Lived goes, as they say, commando."

"Don't touch me, you fucking bastard... traitor," he breathed. There was nothing he could do put protest, and his anger was mounting with each passing moment. "Liar, traitor, coward," he added for good measure, because that was what Snape was to him. Everything he knew about the man pointed to that. A spy, a double agent, extracting protection from both sides while betraying each.

"Ah, flattery will get you nowhere," sneered the older man as he grasped Harry's rock hard cock. "Your mouth says no but your cock... says 'oh god please yes'." He stared into Harry's green eyes as he stroked him, the perverse pleasure of doing this against the boy's will just adding to his lust. He could stop any time.

Harry stared back at him, disgusted with himself, disgusted with the world. Why had fate put him here, like this? Why did he have to endure this humiliation? He let out a grunt and sucked in a breath. Snape's glittering black eyes seemed... he stared back hard, trying to plumb their fathomless depths.

Snape could feel how hard and wet Harry was, and he just couldn't stop himself yet. "It feels like the famous Harry Potter likes this quite a bit," he whispered, his own cock clamoring for attention. He ignored it. "Who knew the golden hero was a perverted little boy?" He slid his other hand in Harry's trousers and caressed his balls roughly. Even if he didn't find release today, his control over Harry was nearly as good as fucking him. Especially as he felt how much Harry liked it despite himself.

Hot tears of angers slid out of the corners of Harry's eyes as his breaths became pants. He was completely helpless, he couldn't even thrust. "I never claimed to be a hero, you git," he hissed. "I'm just the one that has to do it. I'm still a normal human being. I thought you of all people would know that."

Harry's tears only spurred Snape on. He wanted to humiliate Harry, punish him for believing him to be the traitor. Punish him by making him climax at his most hated enemy's hand. And he wanted to see him. He muttered another spell and Harry's trousers were gone, leaving him naked from the waist down, Snape's hand still on his cock.

Harry had to get away. His frustration and anger had risen to a fever pitch along with his arousal. He focused all his energy on raising his wand that Snape had foolishly neglected to remove. His hand twitched, and he spoke the incantation in his mind and then he was suddenly free. He pulled Snape's hands off of him and gave him a mighty shove backwards with a savage sound.

Snape was stunned for a moment, until he hit the opposite wall. Harry had gotten free, and he realised that in his lust he'd forgotten to take the boy's wand away. He was stupid and foolish, thinking the boy had been bound magically, but he was well used to quick recovery. He'd lost his wand in the scuffle, though, and until he could locate it he had to resort to physical strength. He was still bigger than Harry, and he launched himself at the boy, knocking his wand away before the boy could regroup.

Harry stumbled backwards from the force of Snape's attack, losing his footing and falling onto the hard stone floor with a grunt. "Fuck," he snarled. His glasses, too, were knocked off, skidding into the darkness.

Now Snape found himself on top of Harry, his knees between the boy's naked thighs, his own very hard cock pressed against Harry's. And the boy was still hard, he could feel that. He was rapidly losing what little control he had left.

"Gerroffme," Harry gasped, fruitlessly trying to push Snape's body off of him. He looked around frantically and held out his hand. "Accio glasses," he called out, hoping the intent was enough to summon them.

The struggle only excited Snape more, as did the fact that Harry was still hard. Part of him wanted this. He grabbed Harry's wrists in one of his own and pinned them securely above his head. "It didn't have to come to this," he growled, the boy's writhing making him mad with lust. But now he couldn't stop.

Harry barked out a mirthless laugh. "Didn't it? Get. Off. Of. Me. Now! You'll regret this, I swear to you." He rocked his hips, desperately trying to throw the larger man off of him again.

"I already regret it," Snape admitted. "So I might as well get something out of it." At that moment he knew he'd decided. He was going to fuck Harry. The boy hated him anyway, was going to try to kill him, and he had nothing left in the world of any value. And he was only a man after all. He reached down to unfasten his trousers. His cock sprang free, eager.

Harry could tell Snape really meant to go through with it. "You're a fucking bastard, Snape." He was out of insults, but he struggled still, pulling frantically at his wrists.

"Exactly," hissed the older man, muttering a lubrication spell that even without his wand worked perfectly. "So explain why you're still aroused." Lust and need for dominance were his only emotions right now, and as he nudged the tip of his cock against Harry's entrance he held back a moan of anticipation.

"I HATE you," he said, instantly regretting how childish it sounded. He let out a whimper as he felt Snape's cock pressing against him. "Please," he gasped. "Please stop..."

"It doesn't feel like you hate me," Snape panted, stroking Harry's rock hard cock as he began to enter him. "It feels like you have a fantasy about being taken against your will, and you're living it." His voice dissolved into a moan as he slid inside Harry's tight body.

Harry sobbed at his inability to control the feelings raging through him. But something else was happening. The ache of being suddenly stretched was accompanied by something else. Harry felt something that was distinctly like... What Snape was feeling.

Snape didn't notice it at first, caught up as he was in the feeling of Harry's body. He'd fantasized about this, he had to admit... just a few times, mainly after Occlumency lessons. Harry was maddening but also his secret desire. He'd had to keep so many things from the boy during those sessions. There was no reason to hide them any longer. He buried himself inside Harry, gasping for breath.

Suddenly, between the unbearable pleasure and the twinge of pain there was more. Images of things. Flashes of experiences from Snape's mind. Of his mother and father screaming at each other, of sitting alone at the long Slytherin table in the great hall, and finally... A vision Harry didn't want to remember. Dumbledore's last moments of life. 'Please, Severus,' he heard as clearly as if he was there in the room with them. And then, he said more without actually talking. 'It's time. Save Draco. I'm dying. You know what you must do...' And then Harry heard the curse Snape had uttered, but instead of the sneer he'd heard in Snape's voice at the time, it was simply hollow, almost lifeless. Harry gasped aloud, and it dissolved into a moan.

Snape realised when it was too late, that being in sexual contact had lowered his mental defenses. Anger washed over him as he realised Harry had raped his mind as thoroughly as he was raping his body. It was fitting, and too late to stop it. He began to slam into Harry more savagely, and demanded between thrusts, "You bastard... What... did you... see?" The pleasure was intense but so was his rage.

Harry moaned. "I didn't... I... It just... happened," he whimpered. He hadn't really meant to do it, but each glimpse only dragged him in farther.

The anger and ecstasy mixed, and there was no way Snape could stop. He thrust deep into Harry, claiming his body, and snarled again, "WHAT DID YOU SEE?" It was too late, but he had to know what Harry had taken from his mind. He had no defenses now, and the boy could no doubt see whatever he liked.

"Dumble...dore... He asked you... To kill him," he said, gasping for breath. He was close to coming, his body starting to tremble. He grasped desperately at Snape's mind again, trying to glean anything more useful that he might know.

"Stupid boy," Snape moaned, trying to rally the strength to deflect him, but failing because he was overcome with pleasure. "I tried to tell you that...." The grief made the pleasure sharper somehow, more brittle, and he was close. He stroked Harry faster, sensing the boy was on the edge himself. "Now.... you know...."

Harry was unable to hold back a moment longer. He knew he would never get another chance like this, so as he pulsed over Snape's fist he made one more push, desperate to find the location of the missing horcruxes.

Snape could feel what Harry was trying to do, and he opened his mind totally to him as he himself started to climax. He didn't know where the other horcruxes were. He didn't even know if this one was real or a decoy. But he didn't hold anything back from Harry this time, and he gasped his name as he filled him.

Harry gasped as he felt Snape let go of his defenses as he came. For several long minutes all he could do was stare up at the man he'd despised and been unwillingly attracted to for so many years. He didn't struggle or fire off more insults. He just stared up at him, panting still.

Slowly, Snape came back to his senses, releasing Harry's hands and pulling out carefully. He was filled with regret suddenly. Not because it hadn't been incredible; it had surely been the best climax of his life. But he shouldn't have let his need get the better of him, no matter how much it seemed Harry had wanted it. But it was too late now. He got up, stumbling slightly as he straightened. "I'm sorry," he finally managed to say, though he knew it was woefully inadequate.

Harry stood awkwardly and found his trousers, getting redressed. "So am I," he said softly. He put his glasses back on his face and found his wand. Before he had turned fully back towards the other man, he cast 'petrificus totalus' silently, then darted forward to catch him before he fell. He settled Snape's stiff body gently on the floor and knelt beside it for a moment. "I have to get that horcrux and destroy it. I have no choice. I hope you'll forgive me eventually." He smoothed a lock of hair back from Snape's face. "I wish Albus had confided more in me before," he added, as it started to dawn on him that Snape was not really the enemy. "All I can promise is that after I've killed him, I'll do what I can to help you when the dust settles." And then he straightened and went in search of the object housing a piece of Voldemort's soul.

Snape cursed himself silently. He had been sloppy, and in the afterglow he had let Harry get the better of him. He should have known the boy would do something like this. He'd barely heard what he said afterward, so angry was he at himself. He'd let his personal desires get in the way, and now he was dead.

Harry navigated the treacherous caves, although after the black lake full of Inferi it hardly seemed dangerous. He took his time and used what he knew of Tom Riddle to make his way closer and closer to the object. It was a quill wrought of gold, inscribed with the initials 'RR'. Rowena Ravenclaw. When he'd gotten it, he made his way back out to Snape as quickly as possible. The ground was suddenly wracked with tremors. He knew there wasn't much time. He spoke the countercurse and grabbed Snape's arm, pulling him to his feet with a strength he didn't know he possessed. "Come on! It's going to collapse!" he explained quickly as he half-dragged the older wizard towards the mouth of the cave where his broom was waiting.

Snape stumbled in confusion, as if it was his mind that had been petrified. When he'd felt the tremors, he knew Harry had found the horcrux, and he'd known it was over. Then the boy had freed him, and now all he could do was run as the cave threatened to come down around his ears. He'd grabbed his wand on the way out, but nothing else; he had no broom and the area was protected against apparation. He didn't know why Potter had saved him; when Voldemort realised the piece of his soul was missing, and Snape had failed, his days were numbered.

The air was rent with an ominous rumbling as they reached the mouth of the cave. "Get on behind me!" Harry yelled to be heard over the din as he levitated his firebolt and mounted it.

Snape stood still, staring at Harry. "No! You go! I'm dead anyway. Get yourself to safety!" he shouted over the noise.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it at Snape. "Get on. You've got two seconds to decide. One..."

Snape laughed shortly. "What can you do to me that's worse than the Dark Lord?" He shrugged. "Without me you have a chance to escape. Go!" But he took a step closer, clearly torn. "I won't be safe, Harry," he said, using the boy's given name for the first time.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you thick git, but it'll slow me down to have to carry you unconscious, so get on. NOW."

Snape hesitated a second longer, then made a decision. He mounted the broom behind Harry, shaking his head at his foolishness, and wrapped his arms around the boy from behind. It reminded him of what he'd just done to the boy and he felt a twinge of guilt.

Harry kicked off hard and they swooped high into the air. A moment later the mouth of the cave was engulfed in dust and rubble. As they sped along Harry glanced back. "I know a safe place. Can you trust me?" he called.

"I shouldn't.... but I do," Snape whispered. Behind him lay certain death. In front of him... was the maddeningly enticing Harry Potter, bane of his existence. He had no choice. "I'm in your hands, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Good. Hold on tight. We've a long ride ahead of us."