As if he had a choice, Harry thought resentfully, feeling Snape pull his hand a bit harder as they made their way down the many stone steps to the dungeons.

Did he even know his hand hurt and would he care, Harry wondered.

The top was still throbbing from Umbridge's detention, and Snape was pressing his thumb firmly over 'must not tell'.

His hands were surprisingly warm, but bony, Harry thought now. If anything, he would have thought Snape's hands would be cold and clammy, but they were dry and warmer than his own.

He nearly stumbled, but Snape tugged harder and he found himself pressed against Snape's back for a moment before he found his equilibrium.

"Clumsy boy," Snape scowled at him before going on, never once missing a step.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, wincing at the pain in his hand. He debated on pulling it free and decided against it. Instead, he said, "I can walk on my own."

Snape snorted, not letting go. If anything, his hand pulled tighter and Harry yelped.

The Potions Master stopped and turned, a frown on his face.

"What is this?" He yanked again on Harry's hand and watched as Harry did his best not to wince. "If you were injured you should have said so and saved us this walk. You could have gone to the Infirmary first."

"I'm not injured," Harry managed, although his hand now felt as if it was on fire.

Snape's eyes narrowed and he pulled that hand up and looked at his palm, then turned it over. One brow rose.

"Well, well... I see our new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher believes in old-fashioned methods." He let Harry's hand go and looked at him evenly. "You should see Madam Pomfrey if that bothers you so. Barring that, application of cold cloths will help soothe the sting."

Harry nodded. Snape studied him, but said nothing further. He did not grab Harry's hand back, turning instead and continuing down the steps.

Harry stood, bemused. Had Snape actually given him helpful advice?

"I do not have all night, Potter." The deep dark voice echoed up to him. "The Headmaster wanted your lessons to begin immediately, which means we are already behind. Do not doddle."

Hand still smarting, Harry cradled it and hurried after him.

Maybe, he thought now, even foul, greasy gits had their moments.

~

Posted: 17 July 2006.