Forcing himself to analyse his situation, Severus Snape realised that he did not want to leave. He had lain awake last night. Had felt like lead when he had forced himself out of bed this morning. But the conclusion had been inevitable right from the beginning. He wanted ... needed Harry because, during the last few weeks, the boy had become the only master, he had ever chosen for himself. Not because of honeyed words dripping with poison. Not because a powerful wizard had demanded allegiance in return for the life of his childhood friend. But someone whose first act had been to protect him. A young man he had been willing to die for. It had been trickery and deception, a setup, right from the beginning. Yet, even if he had known, his reactions would have been the same. He could admit that, at least to himself.