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"You're still decided? You won't press charges?"

Dumbledore settled easily in the chair Auror Moody had vacated, and examined the small Slytherin on the bed.

It was ironic, seeing Severus like this, his body bound tightly to the hospital bed, and yet those dark eyes still managed to glint with hardened determination.

"You knew I wouldn't; neither of us are fools, Headmaster, so I suggest we drop these pretenses." Snape crossed his arms in a businesslike manner, but Albus didn't miss the way the boy's hands trembled. "I need...assurances that this situation with Malfoy is resolved."

Contemplating, Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. That such a thing happened during my tenure is...most unfortunate. Still, there is the matter of your," he paused, searching, then offered delicately, "attempt."

Snape swallowed hard.

"Caving under the pressure, Mr. Snape? Rather unlike you, if I do say so myself. How can I know you won't allow yourself to be placed in compromising situations again? If I give you my protection and you still find yourself unable to cope-"

"I am perfectly capable of handling myself," Severus snapped.

"Still, I regret to say I require some investment from you as well. In order to ensure we're both equally interested in preserving the school's good name. So, Mr. Snape, what can you offer?"

The boy tugged at the sleeve of his hospital gown, caught himself, and stilled. For a moment Albus was reminded of the child's limited years, before that steely mask slid back in place.

"I can brew," Severus offered.

"True..." Albus allowed himself a smile; the boy bargained well. Start small; limit what your opponent could barter with by not revealing too much, "but I could ask Madam Pomfrey or Professor Slughorn for that."

With a snort, Severus crossed his arms. "I could out-brew Professor Slughorn with my eyes closed."

When Dumbledore remained silent, Snape's lips quirked into a half smile.

"You write your own spells. That one you used on James Potter last term was most impressive. It took Professor Flitwick nearly ten minutes to get him down." For the barest moment, Severus looked surprised.

"How did you- I never got a detention." The boy stuttered to a halt, "Why?"

"It was most impressive. Your knowledge of magical theory far surpasses most of the graduating seventh year class. I thought it prudent to encourage the gift."

Truthfully, Albus had been intrigued. Severus' aptitude for Charms had been duly noted, but after he'd watched the smaller boy upend Mr. Potter with a previously unheard levitation charm, the Headmaster had kept a closer eye on the little Slytherin.

"You want me to write spells?" Skepticism heavy in his voice, Snape studied his teacher.

"Not exactly." Steepling his fingers, Albus met his student's gaze. "I doubt I'm the only one to notice your talents, both for spell work and in the potions arena; the Dark Lord values driven young men and women-"

"I'm not a Death Eater!" Snape cried, his face growing paler at the words.

Noting his reaction, Dumbledore nodded quickly, "I'm aware, Mr. Snape, but you are in a unique position: a Slytherin, talented, but without many alliances. You keep to yourself, besides Ms. Evans," Snape flinched, "and therefore you may be privy to conversations others miss."

"You want me to spy." Severus' tone was flat.

"Not spy, my boy, listen. If you happen to overhear something you believe will benefit me, you will report it."

"I'm not a snitch," Severus muttered.

"I'm not asking you to be one. These times...these times are grave, Mr. Snape. Eventually everyone will have to choose a side in the coming conflict. Are you going to be what Ms. Evans fears? If you continue in this vain her worries are hardly ungrounded."

Thin shoulders hunched. The boy had clearly already reached that conclusion, but given the fear Dumbledore felt emanating from the child, Snape was more wary of the dark arts then anyone suspected.

If it was anyone else, he would've used a compulsion charm, but after his attempted Legillemency the night before, he knew Severus' Occlumency shields would hold. Instead, he waited, confident in the end the boy would see matters from his teacher's point of view.

After a long moment, those dark eyes came up to meet the Headmaster's again. "I'll do it."

Squaring his shoulders Severus held out his hand, "I want an Unbreakable vow though: Lucius Malfoy will not touch me for the rest of this year or be allowed contact with me while I remain at Hogwarts. In return," he let out a breath, "I'll be your...listening ear, in Slytherin."

"Excellent, my boy." Dumbledore had expected the Unbreakable vow, Severus wasn't fool enough to take anyone's word at face value. "Come to my office tonight; I'll have a witness ready who will remain discrete."

Briskly, Snape nodded, then tugged at the straps. "Does this mean I can go now?"

"Not quite yet, my boy." Pulling out his wand, the Headmaster waved it over his student's body, lips quirking in satisfaction as a cloud of green fog settled over Severus.

"Self-harm monitoring spell." Holding up a hand when Snape's face turned white, Albus added, "it will not prevent you from cutting, however if you attempt to take your own life I will be alerted. Madam Pomfrey would give you significantly less leeway, and since such measures are required any time a student has attempted to take their own life, I suggest you adjust."

Severus looked about as opposed to this situation as was humanly possible, but the boy gritted his teeth and nodded once.

"Excellent. Now, since Madam Pomfrey is otherwise disposed, I'll release you. It's early enough that you won't have missed any classes."

Snape looked relieved; Dumbledore could only imagine the questions the other students would have bombarded him with.

"Anything else?" The Slytherin demanded, reaching for the boots placed neatly beside the bed.

"Yes. Your summer homework."

Snape looked up in surprise.

"I'd like you to do a little additional studying. Your Occlumency skills are well-developed for a child of your age. Over the next three months, start researching and applying Legillemency. You're well versed in curses," Snape smirked, "but I suggest a study of the Unforgivables."

Alarm flitted briefly across the child's pale features, but he didn't argue.

"Lastly, as my informant, you will require some allies. Before the school year is over, I suggest you look for potential...friends. The more varied the sources, the better information you will hear."

Finished, Dumbledore summoned a sheet of parchment to write Severus' dismissal, while the boy in question gathered his possessions. The pile was uncharacteristically small, but with each layer, Severus seemed to pull his image back together.

Tightening his tie, the boy ran a hand through his hair, bringing order to the limp strands, and collecting his book bag.

"If you'll excuse me," he muttered, ducking out of the Hospital Wing and slipping down the corridors, footsteps silent even on the stone floors.

***

"And most importantly, thank you all for a most excellent year. I look forward to seeing most of you again in September," he smiled out at the younger students before turning to the seventh years, "and to our graduating class, my congratulations. It is my hope that as you continue on in your Wizarding journey you will always remember your Hogwart's days happily."

Looking out at the student body, Dumbledore raised his hands, "and now, most importantly, enjoy the feast!"

The room exploded in applause as the leaving feast appeared on the table, the seventh years whooping louder than anyone else.

Smiling, the Headmaster settled back in his seat behind the head table. Yes, times were difficult, but the leaving feast was always one of his favorite nights of the year.

As the students' conversation flowed through the Great Hall for the last time that year, Dumbledore allowed himself a moment to search the Slytherin table.

There, at the far end, a familiar dark head was settled, but Snape was no longer alone. Regulus Black, a fourth year, though he was taller and at least a stone heavier than Severus, grinned at the smaller boy and slung an arm around Snape's shoulders. The Slytherin stiffened for the barest moment, before forcibly relaxing. Evan Rosier, one of Severus' dorm mates, though a quieter boy, sat on Snape's other side, and the two shared a glance, before Evan's lips twitched with amusement. In general, Slytherin house was not known for their public displays of tactile affection.

Apparently sensing the scrutiny, coal black eyes roamed the Hall for a moment before settling on the head table.

Raising an eyebrow at the child, Dumbledore nodded approvingly to the boy's companions.

One corner of Severus' mouth curved upward, and the child lifted his head almost defiantly. A half-second later, Albus felt the faint brush of a foreign presence against his mind.

Stifling his alarm behind his own Occlumency shields, the Headmaster pushed back against the intrusion until Severus broke eye contact with a wince.

Wishing nothing more than to retreat to his office for a cup of firewhiskey, Albus forced himself to think. Yes, the boy was remarkably quick, that was why he'd chosen Snape, but he'd have to keep a close eye on the child as well. That was the problem with Slytherins, too cunning for their own good.

Making a mental note to update Severus' file, Albus forced a smile and turned to Horace. Now was no time to worry, he told himself, Severus was still young. With training, the boy would be quite pliable. But that hint of defiance...Albus would have to find out what made the child tick. After all, Severus had been broken before; it was best to know how to do so again.