Harry was concentrating so much on his spell that he didn't hear his door open, nor the footsteps as someone approached.

"The Headmaster told me that you went to see him after our discussion," Snape said calmly.

Harry started, accidentally breaking the spell. Only Snape's quick wand work kept the majority of the Gryffindor's things from crashing to the cobblestone floor. The young man began the spell again and the items resumed packing themselves away into his trunk. "I didn't say anything if that's what you're worried about."

"I know you didn't, or I imagine my discussion with the Headmaster would have gone much differently." Snape murmured, attempting humor. He cleared his throat lightly. "He told me you had requested different quarters for the last week, while you take your NEWTs, and came seeking an explanation when you refused to give him one. I told him I had no idea why you would request such a thing, as you are more than welcome here," The last was said with the subtle lilt of apology.

Finally, the last of Harry's things were stowed away in his trunk, which closed and latched itself. He turned to face his professor. "Honestly, sir, you could have fooled me." He said, struggling to keep the hurt and anger from his tone. With a snap of his fingers, a House Elf appeared with a pop, then disappeared as quickly with his trunk. "If you'll excuse me, Professor, I'd like to get settled in Remus' rooms before dinner." Harry pushed past the taller man without waiting for a response, and left quickly for his honorary godfather's quarters on the third floor.

When he arrived, he was greeted by both of his godfather's. Sirius pounded him on the back playfully. "No worries, Prongslet, we'll get back at that old Dungeon Bat for what he said, eh?"

Harry attempted to smile, but only managed a grimace. He'd felt compelled to tell Remus something of why he was changing rooms the night before NEWTs testing began, and had made up some story about Snape saying something mean and cruel about his lineage. It wasn't a far-fetched tale, since the Potions Master had done this many times in the past, but it had never occurred to him that it might instigate a response from Sirius. He shrugged off the animagus' hand.

"I'd rather we just left it alone, Sirius. There's no point in stooping to his level, it won't make me feel better, and it won't change his opinion of me," He told his godfather dejectedly. Something in his tone caused Remus to look up from where he'd been grading on the couch.

"Did something else happen while you were getting your things, Harry?" The werewolf inquired sympathetically.

"It's nothing; I'd rather not talk about it. I'm going to go get settled in my room and try to study before dinner. I'll talk to you guys later." The youngest of the three Gryffindors shoved his hands in his pocket and moved towards the room he'd been given earlier. A sudden thought made him round on his godfather. "And I mean it, Sirius, don't you do anything to Snape, alright? I can fight my own battles, and I still have to see him every day until Summer, and then when I start teaching, so I don't want you to do anything to him that might make it harder for us to work together, understood?"

The dog animagus raised his hand. "Promise, Harry, I will not harm a hair on Snivelus' head."

Harry frowned. "And quit calling him that, it's not his name." He continued to his room and closed the door. He knew asking Sirius not to retaliate against Snape was just going to raise his godfather's suspicions about what had really happened, but he didn't care. It was better that Sirius be clueless and suspect something, rather than clueless and retaliatory. Yeah, he was mad at Snape, but he didn't want anything to happen to him, especially nothing that his godfather's twisted mind could think up. Finally, having had enough, the Gryffindor leaned against the door and sank to the cobblestones, letting himself mourn over the ache in his chest at finally being rejected by his love interest.

The next few days were spent in a sort of quiet delirium for Harry. Snape and Remus using a well-known spell had led to other years playfully using it amongst themselves, leaving Harry the targeted love interest not only by students in his year, but the younger years as well. He was often forced to make a quick escape as girls, and even some blokes, tried to earn his favor with gifts, and songs, and poetry, or by simply following him everywhere he went. More than once, his professor's had been forced to shoo away the more persistent of the groups when they tried to enter the testing hall with him. On the third day, Harry had had enough and finally snapped at lunch.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone!" The Boy Who Lived shouted at the girls standing around him. He stood violently from the bench, causing them to back away a step in fear. "I'm not your bloody play thing, and I'm not some trophy for you to put on your mantle! I'm a human being, and I don't like being stalked!" He turned to see half of the Hall staring at him over their lunches. He huffed in agitation, but sat back down, ignoring it as the girls who'd been hovering around him left in tears. The hall continued to stare at him.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned, ready to tell whoever it was that they could shove off as well. He froze when he saw it was Snape. "Detention, Potter, tonight, for inexcusable language." Without another word, the man strode up to the Head Table.

Harry turned back to his lunch and shoved it away, suddenly having lost his appetite. Snape had tried a number of times to catch Harry's eye, or speak to him when there was no one else in the corridor. Up until now, Harry had been rather successful at avoiding hearing whatever the man had to say. He didn't want to hear the man's fake apologies and placations, but now found himself unable to avoid it simply because he'd been too stupid to keep his mouth shut.

After dinner, Harry found himself knocking on the Potion Master's classroom door. When the door finally opened, he felt almost ready to bolt, consequences be damned. The older wizard stepped aside, admitting him entry into the classroom. He stepped in quietly, avoiding looking at his professor.

"What will I-"

"Sit down, Potter, and shut up," Snape growled, slamming the door to his classroom.

Harry moved further into the room and sat heavily at one of the desks near the front, glaring at the stains in the wood. He waited silently as the Potions Master came to stand in front of the desk. The air grew stale between them as Harry waited for the man to say something, anything.

"You're behaving like a child, Potter."

This caused Harry to jerk his head up and stare at the man. He glared, and then looked away. "I don't know what you mean, Professor. I've been busy studying for my NEWTs."

The Potions Master slammed his hands onto the desk. "This isn't a game, Potter. I am your professor, and as such you will look me in the eye and explain to me why you have been acting this way! Why did you move to the wolf's quarters, Harry? Why have you been avoiding me?" The demand for an explanation caused Harry to look up again.

"I didn't want to inconvenience you, Professor." He sneered. "After all, you couldn't trust me with one thing, why should I expect you to trust me with access to your quarters? I might tell someone that the Potions Master wasn't always a Greasy Git!"

The man growled and pushed away from the desk to begin pacing in front of it. "Damn it, Potter, that isn't what happened!"

"Isn't it?!" Harry demanded, standing. "Because as I recall you tried to bribe me for my silence!"

The Potions Master rounded on him. "Be quiet, Potter!" He hissed. He grabbed Harry's wrist and dragged him through the door that led to his office, casting several wards. Despite the numerous privacy spells, he was still whispering when he turned back. "Harry, I never meant to imply that I didn't trust you!" He insisted.

Harry scoffed. "Well, you bloody well failed to imply otherwise." He hissed back angrily.

Snape growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Harry, this is an impossible argument. I was tired and panicking over the fact that I might lose my job. I was willing to do whatever it took to make sure you knew how vital it was that you keep quiet. And, if I'm honest, I wanted to see if you would take advantage of the situation, or if you truly felt our friendship was more important than a better grade. I never intended to hurt you, Harry. How can I make you see that you do have my trust, implicitly and without hesitation?"

Harry paused, stuck on the fact that Snape had just called them friends. He'd felt that they were friends, or near enough, ever since they'd begun training in Fifth Year, when they'd stopped arguing in favor of almost playful banter. He'd always stopped just short of saying it aloud, though, unsure if the man felt the same. Finally, Snape seemed to realize he wasn't going to respond.

"This isn't a test, Harry, I'm telling you to take advantage of the situation. It's too late to adjust your grades, but you can ask anything else of me. House points, or something embarrassing perhaps…something that I can do to prove that you have my undying trust," The former spy pleaded.

The Gryffindor considered what the man was saying. If it were anyone else, he'd take the offer as proof enough, because it meant they were willing to do anything for his friendship. But Snape was a Slytherin, and as such was willing to make the offer knowing Harry would think exactly that; taking the small chance that he might actually think of something, because, if he did, it likely wouldn't be too compromising. He decided to ask for the one thing he'd probably get no other way.

"I want you to kiss me," He said at last.

Snape looked taken aback. "How would that-"

"Because it's the same situation," Harry insisted. "You said that sharing my bed by accident was inappropriate, and made it seem as if you couldn't trust me with the knowledge of that incident. Kissing me would be even more inappropriate, and if you're telling the truth about trusting me, then you'd trust me to keep that a secret as well. If I asked you to tell me an embarrassing story or give me House Points, or even if changing my grades had been an option, then you wouldn't have to have the same level of trust. It's not the same kind of risk, and I couldn't tell about the second without breaking my promise about the first. A kiss, however, would be a new incident of its own. You don't even have to like it, it's just the only thing I can think of to truly prove that you trust me."

Snape hesitated. "Harry, sleeping in your bed only risked my job, this would cause me to lose my position entirely if anyone found out, no questions asked."

Harry felt a sharp pain in his chest at this second show of distrust, but hid it well as he took a deep breath. "Then, you've made your choice. Goodbye, Professor." He turned to leave.

A hand grabbed his wrist again and he turned to look with false calm into the Potions Master's black eyes. The taller wizard stepped forward. "But, if it will prove that I trust you, then I will do what you ask." Harry felt another sharp pang, but the pain was buried under the anticipation coursing through his body as the man stepped closer.

One hand snaked its way over his neck, while the other tugged at his wrist to pull him close. When there was only an inch or so between them, the hand on Harry's neck guided him upwards so their lips could meet. Harry saw a flash of sparks behind his closed eyelids as their lips touched, a gentle glide of flesh on flesh. He melted into the kiss, allowing the older wizard to lead the agonizingly slow movements. His breath hitched as he felt the man's tongue slide softly past his lips, the tip caressing the roof of his mouth and then teasingly dancing along his own tongue. He reached a hand carefully up to slide into the man's dangling black hair, his tongue now dancing with the other wizard's. The tempo of the kiss sped up briefly as they each began to lose themselves in the feel and excitement, before Snape pulled away without warning.

Before Harry could even open his eyes, the Potions Master had moved away several steps and turned his back to him. "There, I have done as you asked."

"Yeah," Harry murmured, feeling properly rejected now. "Thank you, Professor, for trusting me."

Snape turned, his face clear of any emotion. "It is nothing, Harry, for me to give you my trust. You have earned it time and again. I'm only grateful that you've given me this opportunity to-to prove my trust. Now, I'm sure you have plenty of studying left to do for whichever NEWTs you have yet to take, so I will bid you goodnight. Should anyone ask, I suppose we could say I made you write lines."

Harry snorted, unable to help himself. "Or I could say I gave you an oral report." He grinned when Snape smirked, glad to know the man didn't hate him. "Good night, Professor, and thanks again…for trusting me." He turned and left, barely hearing the mumbled reply. He managed to make it almost out of the dungeons when the shock of what just happened left him, to be replaced by a deep, hard-hitting sorrow.

The Seventh Year hid in an alcove as his breath became short and ragged, willing himself not to cry. He'd known when he asked that the man, if he agreed, would only do it out of desperation to regain Harry's favor, but he still found himself on the verge of tears. Some part of him had hoped that the kiss would perhaps instigate some return of his feelings. Now that that hope was gone, in its place was a deep, burning ache that made his body feel almost numb. When he felt as if the tears might be staved off for a time, he hurried back to the relative privacy of his room in Remus' quarters.

SSHP

The last days of the semester were spent with Harry putting all of his effort into his studying to avoid thinking of the kiss, and Snape's obviously disgusted response. As a result, he did rather well in his remaining NEWTs, including History of Magic.

When the Leaving Feast finally ended, Harry found himself waving off the students from the front steps, surrounded by all of his professors and Neville. Dumbledore had decided that they should both start work immediately on their classes, trusting that they'd each done well in their NEWTs and seeing no point in holding off until they got their results.

When the last student was out of sight, the professor's dispersed to their random final tasks before their own vacations began. Harry found himself standing alone on the front steps, and sat as he watched the speck on the horizon of the last carriage until it disappeared entirely. He gave a deep sigh.

"Regretting your new post already, Potter?" A soft, rumbling voice inquired.

Harry looked up at his friend, smirking. "Nah, just missing the days when torturing you was more fun. Now that I'm becoming a professor, I'll have to be more secretive about it, since I have to set the example for my students."

Snape chuckled lightly and sat beside him on the stone steps. "I'm not sure I like the sound of you being the example for anyone," He murmured, staring out over the horizon. Harry smiled. After a moment, the man spoke again. "On the subject of secrets, you do realize-"

"That I still can't tell anyone," Harry interrupted, giving an exasperated sigh. "I know, Snape. Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."

Snape leaned forward so as to catch the younger wizard's eye. "I know that, Harry. Actually, if you'd listen for once, I was going to say that if you ever want to tell anyone, then we had best to do it again, so that there are versions that aren't secret." He leaned back as Harry jerked his head around to look at him in stunned surprise.

"What are you-"

Snape smirked, leaning his elbows back on the step above him. "I saw the spell, Harry. There aren't a lot of people in the world with a description so similar to my own, even if I don't agree with all of what it said. It didn't take a genius to realize who the spell was describing, and took even less to know that you didn't hate me enough to influence the spell. After that, it wasn't hard to figure out what other emotion would influence the spell." He looked deeply into Harry's eyes as the younger wizard stared at him, still stunned. "Your request only confirmed my previous conclusion."

Harry frowned, seeing no disgust from the man. "But then, why did you pull away like that when we…" he trailed off, afraid to say it without protection spells cast. Instead, he gestured between them with his hand.

Snape grabbed the hand, scratching his nail lightly over the calloused flesh and making Harry shiver. "Because I was concerned that if we'd gone on any longer, I would not have been able to stop at just a kiss." He tugged lightly on Harry's hand, and the Gryffindor let himself be drawn into a heated, toe-curling kiss that took his breath away.

When the kiss ended, Harry breathed a soft sigh. "Then it was a test," He murmured.

Snape nodded. "And one you passed rather stunningly." He replied softly, pulling the younger wizard back into his warm embrace.