* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry was dreading it every step of the way down to the dungeons. With only a handful of students staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, Headmaster Dumbledore had noticed him again. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in two months and it was starting to affect him. And so he was sent to see Professor Snape. Frightening, nasty, unpleasant, bitter, uncomfortably attractive Professor Snape.

He found he'd been standing in front of Snape's office door for five minutes. Finally, he raised his hand and knocked, because he really had no choice.

Snape looked up in annoyance from the notes he was scribbling in the margins of a journal. Who was bothering him now? He knew it wasn't Dumbledore; the headmaster always spoke to him through the fireplace, and he'd already endured afternoon tea with the man today, so he wouldn't be bothering him again. The list of possible visitors was blessedly short due to the limited number of occupants of the castle over the holidays, but apparently there was one too many.

He sighed and stood, pulling his robes around him into some semblance of dignity, and he stalked to the door and flung it open without warning.

His least favourite student stood there. The evening just couldn't get any better. He refused to acknowledge how grown up the brat was looking these days.

"Potter," he sneered. "To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?"

Harry's eyes widened. He rarely was in a position to be standing in front of Snape, looking at him eye to eye, and he realised that he was nearly as tall as him, finally. "Professor Snape. The Headmaster told me to... see you. For... I'm having some... trouble sleeping." He frowned a little. He hated having to go to Snape of all people for help, and he couldn't help fidgeting a little under his intense gaze. He stuffed his hands down in the pockets of his trousers. "I could come back another time if you're busy."

"I'm always busy," snapped Snape. So Albus had sent Potter to him because the boy couldn't sleep? Was he now taking Poppy's place? "Why can't you just get a sleeping draught from Madame Pomfrey? Or is the hospital wing not good enough for you?" He didn't like the fact that he couldn't tower over Potter any more. He also resented the fact that the boy had seemed to get through his adolescence with perfect skin.

It was just like Snape to argue about it. "I have nightmares. A sleeping draught doesn't help. I've tried it already." He turned those bright green eyes to black ones defiantly. "Shall I tell the Headmaster you don't want to help me, Professor?" he asked evenly. He was too tired to care how angry he was making Snape.

Insolent boy, threatening to blackmail him... Snape's eyes narrowed and he stepped back to admit Potter. "There's no need to run to Professor Dumbledore, of course I'd be *honored* to help you sleep peacefully." He made sure his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Do come in."

Harry smirked a little. It wasn't often he got the upper hand with Snape, and he doubted very much he'd have it for long, but it was sweet all the same. He stepped inside Snape's office. The place always made him a little uneasy. So many unsettling things had happened there. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sorry to be a burden." Harry's face was pale in the candlelight, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Snape very carefully didn't let it show, but he noticed the fact that Potter looked extremely tired. Perhaps the boy wasn't exaggerating. "Have a seat," he said evenly, going around to sit behind his desk again. "Tell me about the nightmares. Do they wake you? About how long do you sleep before they begin?" He was all business now, pulling a massive text toward him as he prepared to choose a potion.

Harry took a seat. "Yes. They wake me. Usually screaming." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "I usually sleep for... about an hour. I actually... attempted to make the fast sleep potion, but... I don't think it worked. When I take it I only sleep for ten minutes but I don't feel like I've gotten hours of sleep." He braced himself for the inevitable scolding he would get for botching another potion. "I usually just try to stay awake now," he said quietly.

Snape sighed, rubbing his temples. "You didn't, you imbecile," he muttered under his breath. He already knew exactly what Potter had done wrong just from that description. "You're such a careless child. You clearly added the ingredients in the wrong order. Do you think the instructions are optional?" Now he had to try to counteract the effects of the misbrewed potion as well as get rid of the nightmares.

Harry sighed, gritting his teeth. "As a matter of fact, I was half- dead when I attempted it, you know. No sleep and all that." He rubbed his hands over his face. Well, this was going well. "And I'm not exactly a child anymore, professor."

Snape didn't need reminding of that fact. He could see the boy's broad shoulders through his robes, and it was disconcerting. "Perhaps next time you should leave the potions making to someone with a bit of skill and care," he chided. "It would save me a lot of trouble." He was already making notes, though, adapting a dreamless sleep potion.

"I was desperate. They won't prescribe students anything stronger than a regular sleeping draught at the infirmary, and I doubted you'd be interested in helping me if I just came and asked. Besides..." He paused to yawn, covering his mouth. "I didn't want anyone to know how bad it was."

Snape shook his head. "Well, it will take me a little while to brew this potion, it's rather complex." His expression softened just a little. "You may as well make yourself comfortable while you wait," he said, indicating his private rooms. He rose. "I shall be as quick as possible." He didn't want Potter wandering around his rooms, particularly, but that was better than him sticking his nose into his potions-making.

Harry noticed the slight change in Snape's demeanor. And he'd always been outrageously curious to see how the private man lived. "Thank you, professor," he said quietly. He unfolded his still coltish frame from the chair and wandered in through the door Snape had indicated. The room was dominated by books, which was hardly surprising, and through the door to the bedroom he could see an extremely antique-looking bed. It looked... so... comfortable. Harry yawned again. Well, there was really no good place to sit, so maybe if he just lied down for a moment. He kicked off his shoes and settled himself gingerly on top of the covers.

And a moment later he was sound asleep.

Snape busied himself brewing the potion. Potions making always calmed him, and put him in a better mood. He was in his element, and as much as he wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position he knew he'd miss his potions.

Soon the potion was simmering nicely, and Snape went back to his rooms to inform Potter of his progress.

To find that the wretched boy was sound asleep. On his bed, no less. Snape stood, eyes wide, gazing at his nemesis, snoring quietly. He couldn't believe it.

Harry shifted in his sleep, rolling over onto his back, his hands flopping limply on either side of his head. He'd left his glasses on and they were crooked on his face, and the standard issue white button down shirt rode up when he moved, revealing a smooth flat stomach. His sleep was otherwise completely undisturbed.

Snape couldn't stop his eyes from roaming. He shook his head. He was *not* ogling Harry bloody Potter while he slept. No matter how delicious that little slice of bare skin looked... NO. He realized with a start that he'd walked much closer to the bed while he ogled... looked at Harry. Potter. He shook his head.

Well, at least he was sleeping. He wouldn't be bothering Snape with his endless questions. He reached out and slipped off the boy's glasses, folding them carefully then setting them on the bedside table. Then, incredulous at his own actions, he pulled a blanket over the boy.

Snape sighed, and with one more look at the peacefully slumbering Potter he retreated to his lab to check on the potion.

* * * * * * * * * *

Harry continued to sleep, peacefully, almost angelically, for the next five hours. No tossing. No turning. No whimpering. No nightmares.

When he awoke, he was disoriented. For a moment he wasn't sure where he was and he panicked. Then he caught a glimpse of Snape through the open door in the room beyond, and he relaxed. He reached for his glasses, pushed off the blanket, and padded into the other room, looking as rumpled as someone who's just slept in his clothes. He cleared his throat to get Snape's attention.

While it appeared that Snape was sat upright in his chair reading, in reality he'd fallen fast asleep. But he gave no indication, just opened his eyes and looked up at Harry. A slight hoarseness to his voice was the only clue.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I see you've rejoined us," he said silkily. "It appears you overstated your insomnia. You've been asleep for," he consulted the clock, "Nearly five hours." He stood smoothly, setting aside his book, ignoring the aches inherent in sleeping in an unnatural position.

Harry instantly felt defensive. He wondered if that was a skill Snape had cultivated specifically for him. "I can't understand it. I haven't had more than an hour's sleep for over a month." He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy black hair. He walked over closer to Snape, but not too close. "I'm sorry I... fell asleep in your bed. You could have woken me." He rubbed his palms on his thighs slowly. Snape's eyes were a little bloodshot, and Harry felt a little lurch of guilt in the face of such physical evidence that the man had the occasional normal human frailty.

"I was enjoying the quiet," Snape replied neutrally. He wasn't about to say that he had been almost charmed by the trusting way that the boy had fallen instantly to sleep in his bed. Or that he'd felt guilty for having inappropriate thoughts about a student. "I have completed the potion," he added, nodding to the table where several capped vials lay. "One dose per day, no more. The potion will do irreparable damage to your body if you take too much of it."

Harry picked up the vial and held it up to the light curiously. "What sort of damage?" he asked. He opened the top and smelled it, wincing a little. "Bloody Hell," he hissed. He replaced the cap and looked at Snape dubiously. "That's foul. Are you sure it'll work?" Obviously he'd forgotten to whom he was speaking for a moment, and wished he could snatch the words back the moment they left his lips.

A sneer twisted Snape's face. "I shall of course pass on your complaint. No doubt the whole of potions research efforts from now on will center on making them more palatable rather than more effective." He stalked to the door, flinging it open. "Yes, I am sure it will work. The potion will slowly dissolve your intestinal lining if you take too much of it. It will not regenerate, even for Harry Potter. Now leave me." The boy had a talent for driving him to the edge without even making an effort.

Harry frowned and walked back into the other room to get his shoes and his robes. When he came out again, he hesitated, wanting to say something, but not sure exactly what. "Um... thank you. For going to the trouble." He slipped by his professor, and headed for the door quickly.

Snape stayed silent, watching Harry go, and resisted the childish urge to slam the door behind him. Undoubtedly the ancient door wouldn't slam satisfactorily anyway. Damn the boy. Just six more months and he'd be gone, out of his hair, out of Hogwarts.

He walked back to his bed, staring at the spot so recently vacated by Harry. When exactly had the boy gotten so... handsome? Snape didn't want to assign that word to Harry, even in his own mind, but it was true. Tall, lean, his hair still falling into those green eyes... and now he'd apparently become a dirty old man as well.

He ignored his rational mind telling him that he was only about twenty years older than Harry, not much at all, and that at seventeen the boy was legally of age. He wouldn't let his mind even wander down that path. He'd never lusted after a student and he wasn't going to start now.

Of course, Harry Potter never paid attention to the rules.