Much to Snape's surprise, seeing as he had dumped Harry's body in one of the lower dungeons hoping to never be connected with its demise, The Boy Who Lived was just that: living. And walking, and eating, and having a strangely rehearsed conversation with one Mr. Malfoy. Snape didn't know whether to be relieved or afraid at Harry's uncanny ability to simply not remain dead.

In what had become his morning routine, Draco strode lazily up to the Gryffindor table, intent on continuing his tutelage of Harry and exacting a small side of revenge now that it was clear Harry had survived his prior night's activities.

"You look in one piece. Am I to assume my superior knowledge and skill actually gave you enough know-how to entrap Snape in a night of carnal passions?"

However, unlike the previous days, Draco was not greeted with warm welcomes and poignant questions about the nature of sexuality.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry scowled at him, mirrored by his friends. Draco was taken aback, not just from Hermione's lack of attempting to murder him in cold blood, or the fact that Ron seemed completely capable of controlling himself; it was that even Harry's level of acting skills couldn't fake a look of such loathing.

"Harry, are you all right?" Draco asked, backing up a few steps. The scene before him did not bode well. It was almost as if... No, it couldn't be. Especially not in the current slash-filled atmosphere. Draco sucked in a breath, before asking.

"Harry, are you ... in character?!"

And looming discovery ("Dun dun duuun!") music boomed for half a second, before the orchestra began to look a might shifty under Draco's accusing gaze. "If you're going to clutter up the scenery, at least play me the memory riff; Potter's obviously in need of a refresher curse..." He cleared his throat loudly. "Course, that is."

Unfortunately, Normal!Harry Potter had unseen pitfalls. While Draco was cajoling the symphony, the Gryffindor trio had long since left the breakfast table. The blonde boy turned, slowly looking over the vacant seats. "I have to work in real-time, now?" He whined.

But Draco Malfoy was not to be deterred. He stalked, unabashed, through the corridors of Hogwarts. Those who didn't leap aside were thrown to clear a path; Draco had collected his flankage goons for the soul purpose of easy maneuverability. At least, that was the plan, before Draco discovered that it was Harry's group in particular who had fallen back into character, leaving his disciples fondling each other left and right.

"If you could cut into your busy groping schedule, would you mind breaking through the Portrait Hole for me?" Draco seethed, mock sugar coating his voice.

"I'm not sure, I wouldn't want to muss up my outfit." Vincent tittered.

"We can always change it later." Gregory suggested, tone laden with innuendo.

Draco resisted the urge to vomit profusely and ceaselessly. Although Harry's change of character was causing him no end of painful and exhausting physical hardship, his cohorts remaining Slashified was infinitely more disturbing.

Meanwhile, Snape was still reeling from the freedom he now possessed. Walking the halls without fearing a rear-attack from Mr. Potter, sitting in his chambers for hours on end - never hearing whispered pleas through the door and actually receiving essays that resembled the subject assigned, much unlike the pile of recent works by Harry namely; "Why Love Potions Should be Legal for Me and You", "Snape Spells Loverman", and "Last Night you Came to Me in a Dream".

After a quick surveillance of his room, his gaze still hinted with paranoia, Severus leaned back in his chair, feet propped on the desk's corner. He was the epitome of relaxation, right down to the brandy-sniffer cupped in one tapered-digit hand. That lasted for approximately two seconds, after which a harsh rapping caused the professor to flinch backward, wobble unsteadily on two of his chair's legs, and crash to the ground. Swiftly picking himself up, Snape crept cautiously to the door.

"Who is it?" He growled.

A plaintive whine answered him, followed by very pressed speech about walking more than anybody with the person in question's wealth should ever experience.

Snape flung the entrance open, eyebrows raised. "Draco, what exactly do you want?"

"Professor." Draco cut off in mid-complaint. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Created a rift in the space-time continuum?"

"No! Much more annoying than that. You've put Harry Potter back in character and he owes me. Do you understand the extend of that -of course you do- but really, a debt from Harry Potter. What more could I ask for? Well, maybe a Ferrari, but that's not the point."

Snape leaned against the wall, nodding placatingly.

"And not only have I had to bare through his harsh accusations, witness my minions grappling each other like two lovesick hippopotami, but I've descended at least three flights of stairs on the way here."

"Mmhm." Said Snape.

"And, of course, since I'm used to being carried, I tripped over that stupid cat -Mrs. Norris- Practically killed myself, fell down the last four sets of steps."

"Mmhm."

"Then, I ran smack into Pansy, waiting around the dungeons for god knows what. Acted like she hadn't seen me in years. Well, I suppose that's understandable since it has been nearly twelve months- but why exactly she felt the need to take her top off as a 'welcome home' present will forever be a mystery to me."

"Mmhm."

Draco paused, frowning. He considered smacking the potion's master, but decided cruelty would be much more befitting. "And that's when I found out you'd been snogging my father on the side."

"Mmh-" Snape's elbow slipped out from under him. He just managed to catch himself before slamming his head into the door frame. "What? What was that?"

"I said you need to fix Potter's brain."

Severus was caught between what had the potential to be two very annoying outcomes. On one hand, he could put up with Draco's whining, complaints and elaborate plans of assassination; or he could deal with Harry's horny antics. Come to think of it, things had been unnervingly quiet since Harry had gone back into character, and Snape liked to think having a mentally unstable child shadowing him at every turn kept him on his toes. Sharp. Wouldn't want to let himself slip with age, now. Draco watched in rapt silence as several expressions of consternation crossed his professor's face.

A few minutes later, Snape's choices materialized themselves in a curiously convenient way. To his left was the stairwell to Gryffindor Tower, and to his right was a haphazardly left cheese and pineapple pizza.

"Though choice, Snape old-bean." He mumbled, cementing himself (since galvanizing one's mind to a certain task had gone quickly out of fashion after Harry had done it) and turned.

Panning down through the floor of Hogwarts, revealing many an encased body and hidden treasure between the floor and foundation, Draco was to be found quite contentedly lounging in the Slytherin commons. In fact, he was much more than content, he was ecstatic at the upbeat love tune that had begun piping through his tangled little brain.

"Snape has done it again!" He jumped up, declaring to the few occupants of the room. They looked shifty, and subtly began moving toward the door, mumbling "Pure-blood inbreeding." Amongst themselves.

Draco, now alone, turned to the audience with a splayed-fingered hand to his heart, grinning tearfully. "And that, is the fifth rule: Always have a savior." He then became thoughtful. "Snape fits the bill as well." Draco counted off on his digits; "Tall", lowering his pinkie "dark", lowering his ring-finger, "handsome...". Draco tucked his hands in his pant-pockets "Two out of three isn't that bad."

First, Snape had to make a pit-stop in the teacher's lounge to finish eating the pizza before bursting into Gryffindor Tower. That, and he still had yet to learn their password. But that was soon to be rectified.

"Hello Minerva." Snape cooed, laying on his silkiest voice.

"Severus." Macgonagall replied shortly, looking up suspiciously from her papers.

"Piece of pizza?" He offered.

"No." She replied, frowning.

Snape nodded. "So, how are things?" He swept into a chair directly across from his fellow teacher, and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, looking at her candidly. She glanced around tensely, wary of foul play.

"Not complaining..." She quipped.

"Goo-oo-d...." Drawled Snape, leaning forward to inspect what the other faculty member was doing. "Marking exams, I see." He indicated.

"Yes." Macgonagall narrowed her eyes.

"And what's the Gryffindor password these days?"

"You slimy git."

"Odd pass. Thought the standard thing to do was have just one word."

Minerva rolled her eyes and Snape scowled. The old marm was not cooperating.

"My God! What IS that?!" Snape shouted suddenly, raising so quickly that his chair crashed to the ground, and pointing a shaking finger behind Minerva's head. Being suspicious by nature, she turned.

Quick as a whistle, Severus slipped a phial of Verisatum into her tea.

She turned back, seething. "I didn't see a thing, Professor." She ground out.

"It was probably just the hallucinogenic compounds I was working with earlier today." Snape said with a lop-sided grin.

"Mmhm." She agreed, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip of tea.

"So what was that code, Minerva, dear?"

"Pollywogs." She replied, looking startled at her own response. Then her brow creased in a deep furrow, and her lips flattened to a severe white line. "I hate you, and will kill you by hanging your scraggly scarecrow body from a noose I will weave from your own intestines."

Snape gave her mental points for imagery, but wanted a little blackmail ammo before he left.

"And how's the virginity?"

"Intact." She replied, this time looking less surprised and much like a ripe cherry; in more ways than one.
Severus bowed with mock chivalry, robes fanning out as he did so. "I shall alert the proper authorities, then." And he glided out, just as Macgonagall erupted into a string of swears that made several parents who were for some obscure reason walking by in a Hogwart's open-house tour, think that the school had started a program for professors that had special needs. They were quite proud of how modern their old alma mater had become.

Armed with the password, Snape traipsed through the portrait hole and past the Gryffindor Common Room ("Riddikulus!" Bellowed Neville, though the spell had no effect). He barreled up the boy's staircase, and stalked up to Harry, looming over him. Stunned, Harry simply stared up at his potion's master, who produced a steaming goblet of solution.

"Drink this or my minions will destroy you." Snape whispered dangerously.

"Okay, then." Harry replied perkily, hoping to avoid the often-pursing line of death that hounded him from his first moments of life on this earth. He drank the potion, and crumbled like a rag-doll to the floor.