Silver and Gold 9/? DH Spoilers
SPOILERS FOR DH


Title: Silver and Gold /?
Author: Eriador117
Rating: NC-17, Snape/Harry, other pairings.
Spoilers up to and including Deathly Hallows
Summary: Things are never quite what they seem. Epilogue, what epilogue? ;)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Potterverse, I'm just playing in it.
Beta'd by Rakina, many thanks :)
Warnings: AU, Angst, Mpreg. There are some other things I am not warning for as it will give away the plot and I myself don't exactly know where the story is going yet.



Earlier Parts

Part Nine


Severus set aside the last essay from the seventh years. Both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had received Outstanding on their latest efforts; Severus felt relieved that he could honestly mark Harry as competent in this subject, as Severus knew he was. Potions was another matter; Horace was forever trying to corner Severus and lament that Harry's skill seemed to have gone downhill since the last time he'd taught him. Severus knew the reason for that too; his old Potions textbook was on his own shelf where it belonged and not in the hands of a student. It had been quite Slytherin of Harry to keep using it and not admit to where his new found-skills had come from.

A knock on his office door had him sighing. His pep talk to the Gryffindors had told them that as their Head of House his door was always open to them (or at least it was from the hours of six to eight in the evening). It had resulted in quite a few of them pestering him, just because they could, and with no other reason than that.

He marched over to the door and yanked it open.

"Professor Snape?" Harry Potter stood there and peered around Severus' body at the stack of parchments on the desk. "If you're busy I can see you some other time."

"I've finished my marking, Mr. Potter; come in."

Severus stood aside to let Harry in and waved him to the chair in front of his desk. "Is there something in particular you'd like to talk about?"

"I've been seeing Madam Pomfrey. For counselling. Because of... you know."

Severus did know, but was surprised that Harry had sought out help on his own. He had been thinking of suggesting it to the young man. "I see. That's very good news, Harry. I'm very proud of you."

Harry's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. It was as if no one had ever been proud of him before, or at least hadn't told him so to his face.

"Um. About that. Madam Pomfrey suggested I take more exercise and um ... she sort of suggested that you could be like my trainer or something because I don't know anything about weights or jogging or things like that."

Dear Merlin, was Poppy trying to drive him to an early grave? Train Harry with weights; see those muscles straining, the boy's chest heaving with effort, sweat dripping down his face. Severus coughed to disguise his growing discomfort. Discomfort wasn't the only thing that was growing, either. Placing his hands flat on the desk so that Harry wouldn't see how much they shook, Severus looked at him.

"Are you serious about this training? I won't have you wasting my time. It's hard work, Potter, I'm not going to say that it isn't. You might find yourself cursing me at every opportunity."

To his surprise, Harry grinned broadly. "I thought you'd be used to that by now, Professor."

"Impudent whelp!" said Severus, but there was no anger behind the words and he found himself smiling back.

"I'm sorry; I would really like you to help me. I promise I'll be respectful."

"There's no need to go that far, Potter. I can't very well train you if I fall down from shock, now can I?"

***

Two days later, on Saturday morning, Professor Snape stopped Harry in the entrance hall after breakfast and asked him to come to his office as soon as it was convenient.

Ron glared at the Defence professor's retreating back. "He's not giving you detention, is he? You haven't done anything!"

"It's not detention, Ron. It's extra training."

Ron paled so much his freckles all but disappeared. "But – but You-Know-Who's gone, isn't he?"

"Yes, Ron, he's gone. This has got nothing to do with that. It's a different type of training."

"Oh? Like training to be an Auror? Can you get him to give me some extra training too?"

Harry wasn't sure why the thought of Ron or anyone other than himself receiving extra training from Snape was making him feel decidedly queasy. The truth was, he didn't want anyone else to have extra lessons with Snape, of any sort. He had become very possessive of his alone time with Snape ever since the summer. "No, Ron. I've decided I'm not going to be an Auror any more. That's not what I want to do."

"But you have to be an Auror!" protested Ron, glancing at Hermione as if to gather some extra support for his cause. "We were both going to go on to Auror training together and share a flat and everything. Tell him, Hermione!"

"Ron, if Harry no longer wants to be an Auror, then that's his decision."

"So what's all this extra training for, eh?" demanded Ron. "If you're not even going to use it! What's the point in getting trained in combat skills if you aren't even going to be in combat?"

"He's not training me in combat. It's physical training. Swimming, jogging, weights."

"He's making you do exercises? But why?" asked Ron in a plaintive whine. "You'll get enough exercise doing Quidditch. That reminds me, you haven't organised any try-out sessions yet. You are still the captain, aren't you?"

If Ron thought that Harry no longer going to be an Auror was bad news; surely the news that Harry was no longer playing Quidditch would seem like the end of the world. "I'm sorry, Ron. I can't play Quidditch this year."

"What do you mean? Of course you can! You're Head Boy! McGonagall can't ban you from playing Quidditch."

"No, she can't, but Madam Pomfrey can."

"Madam Pomfrey? For medical reasons, you mean?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed as if he was just figuring something out. "And the exercise, that's to help you get better, is it? But Snape, Harry! As if you need to spend any more time with him when you're feeling ill."

Harry bristled. "Have you forgotten everything he's done? Everything he sacrificed in order to help the Light? And Merlin help me if you mention that he's still the greasy git! Grow up, Ron!" ranted Harry as he stalked off towards the staircase and up to the third floor without a goodbye to either of them. Harry knew they couldn’t understand; they hadn't seen those memories of Snape: of everything he'd done to save Harry; to keep on protecting him; spying on Voldemort even though he was risking his life again and again.

Harry had long since stopped thinking of Professor Snape as a greasy git. During the summer holidays, when the man hadn't been spending hours standing over a cauldron, his hair hadn't looked greasy at all. Snape had confided in him that when he was teaching or brewing, his hair was covered with a protective potion which had the unfortunate side effect of making his hair lank and oily-looking. Snape's hair in its natural state wasn't even straight, there was a small wave in it and sometimes Harry found himself wondering if the man would hex him if Harry tried to stroke it.

The stairs were behaving for a change and he found himself on the third floor quicker than he had expected. Harry's heart was beating a frantic tattoo across his ribcage as he made his way to the Defence classroom and then up the stairs to the office. Wiping his sweaty palms on his robe, he rapped twice on the wood. He didn't know why he was feeling so nervous.

"Enter," Snape called from the other side of the doorway. Harry pushed the door open, seeing only one parchment on the desk today. Snape must have finished his marking. The DADA professor waved him into the empty chair opposite his desk and Harry sank into it gratefully. For a fleeting moment, he wasn't sure his legs were going to hold him up as that dark gaze lingered on him. The man had always been so intense.

Snape grabbed a black-feathered quill from its holder and proceeded to scratch something onto the parchment in front of him. "Thank you for seeing me so promptly. I've devised something of a schedule here taking into account your other commitments. When are your Quidditch training sessions?"

"I'm not playing Quidditch this year. Madam Pomfrey doesn't think it's a good idea with... you know."

"Ah, I see. A sensible precaution. You are still attending your counselling sessions?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are you on any potions or other medications?" The quill in Snape's hand hovered over the parchment.

Harry didn't really want to answer that; it felt almost as if it would be admitting defeat to say that he had to take a mood-altering substance just to cope with everyday things that most people handled perfectly well. Like sleeping… Going to the bathroom… Even getting out of bed in the morning.

"It is important, Harry. I need to know; whatever you are taking might affect you physically and then we would have to change our schedule accordingly."

"Hearts-ease Potion and Dreamless Sleep."

"Very well. Neither of those will affect your body; they work on the pleasure receptors in the brain. To start with, I thought we could start with swimming. Swimming will be easier on your joints than jogging, and I hate jogging anyway, so I think we'll skip that altogether. A brisk walk in the hills around the school would do just as well, I'm sure."

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but he was under Snape's tutelage, so he decided not to argue.

"I thought early mornings would work best for us. You don't want to do too much heavy exercise before you go to sleep, the adrenaline will make you more alert rather than sleepy. I thought a six o'clock start with an hour in the gym and a half an hour swim afterwards to help you cool down. Then you'll have plenty of time for a shower before breakfast."

"Sir, I can't really swim very well," admitted Harry.

"Well, I can teach you the basics if you wish."

"Thank you, sir."

"And another thing, Harry. Diet."

"What? But I'm not fat, am I?" Considering Harry could see his ribs, he didn't really think that was a possibility.

"No, no that wasn't what I meant. You need to eat a healthy balanced diet to keep your energy levels up. Not so much sugar, fat or salt, but lots of complex carbohydrates and protein, plus calcium and vitamins."

Harry must have looked at Snape as if the professor was speaking a different language, as not very much of it made sense to Harry. Before, when he did have an appetite, he just ate what food was on offer and was grateful for it.

"Potter, has no one ever told you what constitutes a healthy diet? Not even Miss Granger?"

Harry shook his head; feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Who would have told him? The Dursleys had starved him when he'd been there and at Hogwarts he just ate what was on offer. There wasn't a Healthy Eating class the same as there wasn't a Physical Education class.

"Very well, leave it with me and I will prepare a diet sheet for you. I'll give it to you on Monday."

"You don't have to do that, Professor," said Harry, feeling guilty that he was putting the man out so much already.

"Do you wish to get well, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then yes, I do have to do that."

TBC