Harry silently closed the Entrance Hall doors behind him, waiting for the soft click before releasing the handle. Pulling his cloak more tightly about his body, he set out across the grounds. Knowing he was breaking one of Severus’ rules made this extremely difficult to do. In fact, he was breaking a bit more than just one of his rules, but there was nothing to be done about it. Either he accomplished this task or someone would die. He couldn’t let that happen. Just the same, it seemed his wandering thoughts kept spiraling back to his father. What would he think if he knew what Harry was doing? Harry knew precisely what he would think. That he wasn’t thinking at all.

It would be so easy just to turn around and go to his father for advice. Maybe even Dumbledore, he would definitely know what to do. He knew he was walking into a trap, even if he would save lives by doing so. But, what would keep Voldemort from killing his friends and family once he was in his possession? Nothing. The only one who could really stop him was Harry himself, it seemed. At least, that’s what everyone else believed. If he survived the killing curse once, he’d do it twice, and who better to destroy the Dark Lord than Harry Potter? It was all a conspiracy, he thought. Why everyone thought he was the only thing standing between Voldemort and Wizard-kind was beyond him. He was just a kid! Besides, there wasn’t anything truly special about him.

He was beginning to really reconsider his decision to go into this escapade blindly, as Voldemort apparently wanted him to do. Approaching the wards as he was, he knew he’d have to make a decision soon. Was he going through with this insane mission, or would he turn back and ask for help? Severus would know what to do. And if not, they could both go to Dumbledore and see what his opinion on the whole matter was.

Turning back towards the castle, he had finally made up his mind. Then he felt the first painful tingling sensations beginning in his scar. Not two seconds later and he was kneeling on the ground, hands clasped firmly against the mind-numbing ache residing in his scar. He remained conscious and out on the grounds, but he suddenly saw himself standing in the doorway to Severus’ office.

Severus sat at his desk reading what appeared to be a Potion’s Journal and sipping at some hot tea. Steam rolled off the mug gently and wafted up in the air. Watching the scene curiously, Harry wondered what was going on.

“Having second thoughts?” asked a gravely voice at his ear. Spinning around Harry came face to face once more with the hideous being that was Voldemort. “It’s really not in the best interest for your father to change your mind.”

The Dark Lord pointed a long, bony and pale finger towards his father. Harry watched in horror as Severus suddenly seized up. His entire face had turned deathly pale and his lips had rapidly attained a blue tinge.

“Dad!” he screamed. He tried to rush to his father’s aid, but his feet were once more planted to the floor, as they had been at the Burrow right before it had exploded. “No!”

Suddenly the scene dissolved and he was back on Hogwart’s grounds, kneeling in the damp grass and breathing shallowly, his scar throbbing intensely.

Words echoed in his head even after Voldemort had left his mind. “Choose wisely.”

Harry knew what choice he was supposed to make…if he didn’t go to the Department of Mysteries, his father would be killed. But if he stayed? What would happen then? But there was really only one direction he would go. His father was in danger. What were the odds of him surviving if he’d already been given the poison? It was probably the most horrible mistake Voldemort had ever made, sending him that vision. He knew for certain that his father hadn’t seen him, not like Molly Weasley had in his earlier vision. If he didn’t go and check on his father, he could die. Decision made, he ran dead out back to the castle.

Running even as fast as he was, it seemed to take an eternity to finally reach the dungeons and his father’s quarters. Flinging open the door after being allowed in, he swiftly ran for his father’s private office. The door was slightly ajar. In his mind’s eye, he was already bracing himself for a slumped man lying across his desk. Unable to handle the image, he briskly flung open the door completely and gasped.

Severus was there, just as he saw in his vision, only he was just bringing the hot liquid to his lips. He hadn’t drunk it yet!

“Don’t drink that!” he yelled, slamming into the room and thoroughly startling his father. The mug slipped from his fingers and crashed into his desk, shattering into pieces.

“Harry!” he exclaimed in a demanding tone. “What is the meaning of this?”

Harry couldn’t speak for a moment. He was too relieved to move, for one, and continued to stare at his father, utterly thankful that he hadn’t waited a second longer. Severus was moping the liquid up with a towel, and Harry was startled to see the towel beginning to turn black and changing into something hard and flaky before dissolving into dust and scattering over Snape’s desk. His father was watching the scene himself, shocked, before searching and locking eyes with his son.

Unable to just stand there a moment longer, Harry stumbled up to his father’s desk, but Severus was already around it and met him halfway. His father grasped his shoulders tightly before pulling him into a strong embrace.

“Are you alright?” his father asked.

Harry chuckled hysterically. He couldn’t believe Severus was asking him that question when he was the one who had been nearly poisoned.

“Harry?” asked Severus, concern evident in his voice. “What happened? You must tell me.” He shook Harry’s shoulders slightly to recapture his attention.

Regaining himself, he looked up at his father seriously. “I had a vision.”

Severus nodded for him to continue; only this was where the hard part came in for Harry. Now he had to explain everything to him, including his idiotic, not to mention suicidal, plan to retrieve the ‘prophecy’ from the Department of Mysteries. Severus was just going to love this.

“Go on.” prodded his father.

Harry began his tale solemnly, glancing at his father in-between, but Severus wasn’t revealing his thoughts on the matter. Harry was worried, in fact, by his father’s lack of expression. He had no idea what the man was thinking but he could imagine.

“I thought I could get this ‘prophecy’ he wants so badly and…well, steal it, I suppose.”

At this there was finally a reaction from Severus.

“You honestly thought you would be able to escape with the Prophecy, Harry?” he asked, anger clearly showing through now. “What were you thinking!” he bellowed. He stood and slapped his hands down on his desk, expressing just how irate he had become. Normally, he was much more composed, even when angered.

Harry backed up a step in alarm. “He was going to kill someone I care about!” he yelled at his father. “What did you expect me to do?”

Of course, Harry should have known the answer to that. In fact, he probably shouldn’t have said it at all.

“You should have come to me Harry! That’s what I expected you to do. Did you learn nothing from your experience with the last vision?” he asked, exasperated with his son.

Harry remained quiet throughout, but he knew he was in the wrong here. It had been a completely ill thought out plan, he knew, but it all came down to one thing. He may love his father, but he still didn’t completely trust him, as he was beginning to find out. But, why not? Every adult in his life had deceived him in some way or another. Why not his father?

“I’m sorry.” He answered pathetically. What else could he say? No, dad, I didn’t learn a bit from the last vision, because I don’t trust you. I thought you wouldn’t believe me, or some other nonsense, like I always do, and thought I had to save Sirius myself. Sorry ‘bout that. Yeah, that’d go over really well.

“You’re sorry?” he asked, walking around the desk to stand in front of Harry. “That’s all you have to say?”

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t feel like I had any other choice.” He said, trying to explain. “He said he’d kill you, all of you, anyone I care about. I couldn’t let that happen!” he exclaimed. Why couldn’t he understand? There was no other way!

Severus’ anger visibly deflated, but Harry could tell he still was upset with him. “Harry, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you. You’re just a child. You have to learn to come to us with your visions, or anything else he might send to you by means of the link through your scar.”

Harry scoffed. But that was just it, wasn’t it? He felt as if he did have to protect them. He was the Boy-Who-Lived for crying out loud. They expected it of him, at least most people did. They expected great things of him. And he wasn’t great, not at all. He was just a boy!

“I know.” he whispered, unable to truly accede.

Severus sighed. “What made you come back?” he asked.

Harry glanced at the shattered teacup, garnering Severus’ look as well. “You might want to check your tea for any signs of poison.” He said calmly.

His father raised a brow and glanced curiously at the cup. Walking back to his desk, he retrieved a piece of the glass that still contained a spot of tea inside before disappearing inside his lab. Harry watched him before following after. Severus took a vial of a black-tinted potion out of a highly warded cabinet and set the piece of glass on his worktable. Pulling out the cork, Snape allowed a drop of the potion to fall into the remaining tea. It hit with a splash and Harry waited expectantly for something to happen. He was sure the tea had been poisoned. But nothing happened. He looked up at his father to see the man was looking back at him with a critical look on his face.

“What made you think it had been poisoned?” he asked.

Harry was still staring at the tested cup, shocked. It had to be poisoned. Voldemort had sent him that vision, the same as he had with Molly Weasley, which had been true. He had believed it. As Harry stood there he realized with a sinking feeling that he’d been tricked again. How many times would he fall for it? And his father had been right. How could he not have learned something from that first vision? Was he so dense as to believe a mad man? How could he be so stupid?

“He showed me…” Harry muttered.

“Ah.” Severus closed the vial and placed it back in the cabinet. “Another vision that rang false?” he asked with a lilt of condescension that completely infuriated Harry, because it was true.

“I thought…” he trailed off, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Severus was watching his son with confusion before following his line of sight. Both eyes were set upon the broken piece of glass, which had now turned an alarming shade of red with smoke billowing up from it. Before either could move the blood red tea boiled up and onto Severus’ desk. Instinctively, Severus grabbed Harry and pulled him away from the desk. Finally, the boiling subsided, but the tea remained eerily blood red.

Harry looked up at his father who was standing directly behind him with his arm across the front of his shoulders, just below his neck. Despite the situation, Harry couldn’t help but feel safe in his father’s arms.

“Believe me now?” he asked softly.

Severus flinched. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

Harry shook his head. “No, you had every reason to believe the vision wasn’t true. I should have thought the same thing, but I was being irrational, because it was you.” he said. He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to his father. That thought alone had sent a shiver of dread straight to his heart, for it had almost become true. The tea had been poisoned. Had he waited a moment longer, he would no longer have a dad; he’d have no one to call his own.

Severus seemed shocked at the amount of emotion he was seeing in his son’s eyes as he spoke. “Harry, I’m not going to leave you. Do you understand? I will never willingly leave you,” he said suddenly, taking the green-eyed boy by surprise.

Harry nodded unconvincingly. “I know,” he said though the doubt remained. Harry wished he’d never been grounded. It seemed to have pulled up every single last doubt and self-conscious thought he had ever felt with the Dursley’s. And they hadn’t even cared about him. How could things possibly work out when everyone else who was supposed to care about him left him or treated him like dirt? Nothing felt right anymore.

He gasped suddenly as his scar started to tingle. It was past time to be at the Ministry. Voldemort would soon discover his treachery and take action against him. Pushing his feeling of self-doubt to the background he turned back to his father, who had been watching him worriedly.

“Harry,” he began, but Harry cut him off.

“No, I know you want to talk about everything, but Voldemort is going to find out I didn’t meet with…whomever I was supposed to meet with to give the Prophecy away. Of course, I wouldn’t have met with him anyways, but that’s besides the point. He’ll go after someone. He said he would. We need to do something. Dumbledore needs to know so he can protect them!” he said, growing more and more anxious even as he spoke.

“Calm down, Harry. We’ll go to him this instant, but we’re not through talking.” He said, letting Harry know with his eyes that as soon as everything had been dealt with they would be sitting down for a very serious conversation.

……………………….

The disappointment in Albus Dumbledore’s eyes was nearly as painful as it had been when he’d seen it in Severus’ earlier.

“I’ll send Order members straight away, Harry. Most of the Weasley’s are already at Grimmauld Place, which is the safest place they could be at the moment. Is there anyone else you feel needs protection?” asked Dumbledore, sitting thoughtfully in his chair behind his desk, fingers steepled.

Harry knew there truly weren’t many people out there who cared about him and he cared for in return. His Uncle wouldn’t be a problem, but Voldemort might think Harry would be upset were something to happen to his relative. Sighing, he told the Headmaster as much.

“Very well, we’ll try and locate him. He’s moved since the incident which killed his wife and son.” He said softly, but Harry flinched just the same. He had seen the entire event in one of his visions. Unfortunately, it had been one of the visions that actually came true.

“Thanks, Professor.” whispered Harry, still caught up in visions from the past.

“I’ll have Molly contact the rest of her family, but I’m sure they’re quite capable of taking care of themselves. Her two eldest sons would be nearly impossible to locate besides.”

“Yes, they’re both abroad, I think.” replied Harry. He would have said more but a bolt of pain shot through his scar at just that moment, sending Harry crashing to the floor, unable to stand the flood of pain.

“Harry!” he heard someone yell beside him, but was too overwhelmed from the excruciating pain of his head being ripped apart to really care. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the pre-vision headaches he’d had before, but it was none too pleasant just the same. Through the haze of pain, Harry could feel his father holding his head in his lap and his large strong hands covering his own to keep Harry from clawing at his forehead.

Suddenly the pain intensified to a point not previously known to Harry. It was ten times worse than anything he’d ever felt. It had never been this bad before and Harry screamed out as agony rushed over him in waves. Voldemort was angry, that much was obvious. He had learned of Harry’s treachery and was taking it out on the raven-haired boy in the worst possible way, it seemed. Harry’s head had tilted back into Snape’s lap as he screamed and screamed unendingly.

……...

Severus was beside himself at his son’s obvious agony and pulled him fully into his chest. He was beside himself with worry and his own sort of agony at hearing his child going through such pain, such ceaseless pain. If only Harry knew how to properly Occlude his mind! Harry hadn’t grown as strong with the Occlusion as he had wished and knew this was beyond him when he was being brutally tortured from an outside force. If it was even possible, he pulled Harry even closer to him, practically into his lap, and laid his hand upon his scar and whispered reassuring in his ear.

“I’m here, Harry. Ride it out, try and force out the pain. Think of what makes you happy, Harry, please think. You can drive him out, Harry! Just focus!” he whispered harshly, but hoped internally that he had somehow gotten through to his son through his pain filled agony.

…………………

Even though he was in the most pain he’d ever felt in his entire life, Harry could hear his father, could sense his father’s own emotional pain and felt compelled to help him. He grabbed the hands that still held his and grasped them tightly, trying to get a focus on something, his father. For he was his happy thought. The one thing that could pull him out of the depths of despair he was now residing in was the one who was currently holding him tightly to his chest. He could feel his father’s love for him and used that as his beacon. And then he flung all the love he held for his father towards the one who was torturing him mentally. Almost instantly there was a change. Harry knew Voldemort had been blindsided by the pain he had been causing Harry and was now feeling himself.

For his own protection, Harry continuously fed on Severus’ love until he could no longer feel Voldemort trying to regain the contact through the link between them. As the pain finally receded completely Harry relaxed into his father’s embrace, clinging to him tightly.

“Harry, child, are you all right?” asked a voice in his hear. Harry jumped, not expecting the sudden words, nor had he even remembered the man was in the room with them.

He nodded, unable to speak. His throat felt as if it had been rubbed raw. Professor Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and nudged Severus into movement. Suddenly, a vial was at his lips and he was left with no other option but to drink. Gagging on the taste, he managed to force it down, but was relieved when it kicked in, alleviating his sore throat and the residual headache left behind.

“Better now?” asked Severus.

Harry nodded and felt his face flush as he realized he was completely in his father’s lap. Embarrassed as he was, he still couldn’t find the energy to move. He snuggled back down into his father’s chest instead. He was literally too tired to care at that point.

“Let’s get him back to your quarter’s Severus.” He heard Dumbledore say. Harry was more than willing to just lay right where he was. He didn’t think moving would be a very good idea, and he proved it a moment later.

When he was finally on his feet his stomach did a tailspin. “I’m going to be sick.” He moaned pathetically.

The two men quickly positioned him beside a conjured waste bin. Someone was rubbing his back comfortingly as he retched, but he didn’t think anything would make him feel better ever again. Finally, his stomach calmed and he was able to lie back against his father. “Can we go home now?” he asked, sounding much more pitiful than he’d have liked.

“Of course, Harry.”

Someone took him under the arms and dragged him to his feet. He was thankful for the help; otherwise he would have remained on the floor as he was with no other option. He was too exhausted to do more than that.

Soon, he found himself being carefully helped into his big comfortable bed. He sank into the cool covers and pillow and lay there tiredly, blinking owlishly at his father.

“Did Voldemort send you a vision?” he asked while gently tucking his son into bed.

Harry shook his head. “He was just angry and wanted me to feel it, I think.” He paused, thinking of what Voldemort might do. “Is everyone safe?”

“Yes. They’re fine. Everyone was moved into Grimmauld Place. No worries now, I think it would be best if you rested now,” he told Harry.

He more than agreed with that and snuggled deeper into the pillows. “Okay.” He murmured sleepily. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, but drifted in and out of consciousness as his scar still ached, even though he’d had a pain-relieving potion. Nothing helped with his scar. He knew Snape still sat beside him on his bed and was surprisingly shocked when he felt him stroke his hair lovingly.

“Go to sleep, Harry.” Severus whispered quietly, continuing the repetitive motion on the boy’s hair.

Exhausted as he was, the green-eyed boy was more restless than he thought possible. He couldn’t help but think of how disappointed his father had been in him for deliberately disobeying him once again. Even though he hadn’t left Hogwart’s grounds, he had been about to. Sometimes, Harry didn’t know what was wrong with him, that he could be so dense as to try running off again. Especially considering he would have walked straight into a trap. But, better him than somebody else. It would be devastating to lose anyone else. No one would die because of him, he vowed, and hoped to keep it.

On top of everything else, he was really worried that more would be added to his punishment for his attempted escape from Hogwart’s. With all these thoughts drifting through his mind he was hard put to fall asleep.

“I’m sorry I tried to leave again,” he blurted out suddenly, shocking Severus into stilling his motions with his hand, but started up again moments later. Harry had to crane his neck slightly to see his father’s face, but he wanted to know what the man was thinking. “I wasn’t trying to be contrary to your wishes, I just thought there was no other way.” he tried to explain his actions. Harry honestly hadn’t intended to go against his father’s orders, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He was unaccustomed to having anyone there to help, other than his friends Ron and Hermione. But, recently, he’d even refrained from telling them things as well. It was safer in the long run.

Severus did pull his hand away that time. He sat up, pulling Harry with him. Staring at the boy intently, he almost seemed at a loss for words. But that clearly wasn’t the case. “And why would you feel there was no other way?” he suddenly asked.

Harry stared. He hadn’t really thought his father would ask him that. Because now he was going to have to explain his feelings of his non-existent self-worth and doubt to his father. How could he tell him that he didn’t trust him? Well, thinking on it now, that wasn’t entirely true. He did trust his father most of the time and with certain circumstances, but when he really needed his father the most…that was when he doubted him. Because that was when everyone else had turned their backs on him before. Right when he needed them more than ever and they hadn’t been there. No one had.

“I don’t know.” He answered in an attempt to avoid the question.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Harry.” His father replied.

Well, so much for that theory. As he lay there in bed with his hands clenching and unclenching his bedcovers, he wondered just how he could explain this without coming off as the most pathetic person in the world. He rolled onto his side, pulling the covers back up to his chest, and fully faced his father. Severus was staring at him intently but patiently awaiting his son’s words.

“I just…I don’t know how to explain it. At the time, it seemed like the only viable option was to do it on my own. It’s the way I’ve always done things before and no one stopped me then, unless Ron or Hermione found out what I was up to, then they’d just come with me.” Harry said, continuously clenching the blanket as he tried to explain.

Severus leaned forward to make direct eye contact, causing Harry to wearily lean back into the bed. But, Severus wouldn’t allow him to. He put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and forced him to say put.

“I know you’ve never had anyone to depend on when it mattered most, Harry. I know you’ve had a lot of experience with Voldemort and have had to face him numerous times on your own. However, you’re not alone any longer, son, you have a father now. You have me, and I have no intention of letting you go off to face Voldemort all on your own ever again.” He stated adamantly, eyes fierce in his determination to make his son believe his words.

Harry stared at his father, knowing he spoke the truth, but still doubtful, even though he was beginning to doubt his own feelings. Unable to really voice an opinion he simply said, “Thanks, dad,” in a bare whisper.

Suddenly, he was tired and the restlessness he’d experienced earlier was leaving him. But he still had one more question. Looking anywhere but at his father, he hunched down deeper into his blankets as if for protection. Severus’ hand was still on his shoulder, but now he moved it to his back to soothe away the tension he could feel.

“What is it, Harry?” he finally asked when Harry refused to speak.

“With me breaking the rules again, does this mean I’m going to be grounded even longer?” he wondered. It wasn’t exactly the question he wanted to ask, but it was close. His father was very strict, he was discovering, and he didn’t want to be punished more severely than what was already given to him. If he didn’t listen the first time, what would he do now? It was what had been gnawing at him for some time now. Even though he came back, he would have gone had Voldemort not sent that vision of Severus being poisoned. Would his father go to greater lengths now to keep him home and safe?

Severus took a long time in answering that particular question, all the while staring at Harry as he fidgeted and squirmed under his piercing eyes. Just when he thought his father wasn’t going to say anything, he did.

“I think we’ll stick to the original punishment. Technically, you didn’t break any of my rules, you were just considering them.” He said, rubbing Harry’s back soothingly.

Harry could live with that. There was a moment of comfortable silence between the two of them while Harry idly played with a loose string in his pajamas and Severus moved his other hand to Harry’s forehead. He knew Severus was using these techniques to get him to fall asleep, and they were working. Harry’s eyes drifted shut before snapping open once more.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked suddenly, even taking himself by surprise with the question. He didn’t know where it came from, but all of a sudden he worried about it.

Severus sighed and raised a brow. “I’m not angry with you, child. I just hope in the future you’ll remember what we talked about tonight and come to me with any problems you might possess.” He said lightly. “Now, you’re exhausted, please refrain from fighting against the pull of sleep. Close your eyes and keep them that way.” He demanded, though still in a whisper, and Harry immediately complied.

………………..

The next day Harry was to start Occlumency lessons with his father directly after classes. He had been practicing before this, but now Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape felt it was time to really crack down on them. If it was at all possible, they wanted to avoid another incident like the ones he had been experiencing. Harry would be glad when the time came and he would be able to block Voldemort out of his mind. There would be no more visions and no more pain. He looked forward to it. Even if he was losing something that was sometimes useful, his visions, but that didn’t really matter any more. They were used against him now more than ever.

“Are you alright?” asked Ron. The two of them, plus Hermione, were slowly but surely making their way into the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry had quickly run up to the Tower after he’d woken up in his rooms in the dungeons so the three of them could walk down together.

Harry shrugged. He had gone to bed late, due to his conversation with his father, and now he was feeling it. “Just a bit tired, I guess.” He said. “Nothing to worry about.” He added when both of his friends gave him worried looks. They could be so over protective of him sometimes, it was almost surreal at times.

“My mum sent me a letter last night.” Ron stated suddenly. “She wanted me to tell you that everyone is okay and not to worry. I think she’s more worried about you, really, what with those awful visions and all. Have you had any more?”

Ron and Hermione both seemed suddenly very interested in him. Harry stared for a moment before nodding his head. Quickly, he explained his latest vision, from the headaches right down to his vision about Severus and the poisoned tea.

“Is he alright?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, I stopped him just in time. He was about to take a drink right when I burst through the doors.” He said quietly. “I was never so glad that I went back than at that moment. I thought I was going to lose him.”

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You won’t lose him.” She said adamantly.

“How can you be so sure? He almost died last night. And with Voldemort out for revenge…” he trailed off, looking distraught and angry. “I hate him.” He whispered vehemently.

Ron glanced at his friend in concern. “Hate is an awfully strong word, Harry. It’s not something you want to get pulled into too deeply.”

Harry knew his friend was right, but he still hated Voldemort, with all his heart. But, he wasn’t going to turn into some monster, like Voldemort had, just because he hated someone.

After sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry realized he wasn’t hungry at all. His appetite had completely vanished at the thought of losing his father and the hateful thoughts following. He glanced up at the Head Table and saw his father sitting next to Professor McGonagall. The two were talking animatedly about something or the other. As he watched, his father looked up and made eye contact with him. Harry quickly looked away and picked up a biscuit off the nearest tray. If his father noticed he wasn’t eating, he’d grow concerned, especially after his new symptoms before a vision took him.

“I’m going to go on and head down to Professor Binn’s class, okay. I never finished the essay that’s due, so I’m going to try and finish it beforehand.” He told his friends. He stood up as Hermione nodded exasperatedly at him. He had noticed Ron’s suspicious look, but ignored it. “I’ll see you in class.”

He walked down the corridors, completely lost in his own train of thought, when he heard footsteps behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that it was Malfoy.

“Hi.” He said, waving a hand distractedly.

Malfoy nodded once and walked up beside him. “You don’t seem like yourself, is everything alright?” he asked suddenly after a brief comfortable silence.

Harry looked at Draco wondering how he knew something was amiss, but brushed it off. “I’m fine. Just tired.” He replied. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

The Slytherin boy could only nod. “I guess it has. How long were you grounded for?” he asked. Harry thought the older boy seemed slightly miffed about something. It made him wonder how long he’d been grounded for and what the conditions were.

“Three weeks.” He stated dully, and saw Malfoy’s eyebrows rise.

“Three weeks!” exclaimed Malfoy, looking shocked. “And I thought I had it bad.”

Well, this was a different reaction than the one he’d been expecting. “Just how long are you grounded for?”

Malfoy smirked and Harry glared at him. “One week.” He said cheekily. “Of course, I didn’t nearly get myself killed, either.”

“What? Well, I can understand your transgressions weren’t nearly as bad as mine, but you still left Hogwart’s, just like Ron and I did.” He said, slightly irritated. “Why aren’t our punishments the same?”

The two boys had started walking down the corridor again and had just reached Binn’s classroom. Leaning against the wall, Draco Malfoy shrugged at Harry. “I didn’t disobey my father, for one.” He said. “I know Severus asked you to stay put and then you went against what he said. That’s one mark against you. Plus, you nearly frightened him out of his wits when he saw you lying on the ground, bleeding half to death, after my arse of a father cursed you! You should have seen the look on his face when he saw you. I think he thought you had already bled out too much to be saved. Now, I assume he believes if he grounds you long enough, it’ll put you off of your stupid schemes for a while. He overdoes it sometimes, but it just means he cares about you.” He stated confidently.

Harry stared at Draco in shock. This was the second person in two days time who had told him his father did care about him, loved him even, as Ron had tried to tell him. He knew it was true; it was just more of a confirmation for him to hear it from others.

“I’m supposed to come down to Severus’ quarters tonight so he can keep an eye on me.” He said, clearly not pleased with this prospect. “He found out I hadn’t stayed in my dormitories last night as per his instructions. Now he thinks he needs to keep a watchful eye on me at all times. So, I guess I’ll be seeing you for the rest of the week. You are staying with him for the duration of your grounding, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes. I really don’t mind all that much, I just wish he wouldn’t make me stay in my room the entire time.” He complained.

Draco nodded sympathetically. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ll probably be with you in your room for the next week. At least now you won’t be all alone and bored out of your mind. Maybe I can sneak in a few more interesting books to read or a game or two. I received the newest Quidditch Weekly yesterday!” he told him, pulling said magazine out of his bag. “We can look at it tonight, as long as my godfather doesn’t find it and confiscate it as soon as I walk through the door.” He said.

Harry somehow found it odd that Draco Malfoy read Quidditch Weekly. It made him seem more human and more like the boy he actually was.

“Alright. I’ll see you tonight, then.” He said as the corridor suddenly started filling up with more Slytherins and Gryffindors. Harry noticed the way most of the Slytherins were glaring at Malfoy, along with a lot of his own housemates. It suddenly made him feel extremely irritated, especially at the Gryffindors. But, he could at least understand their hostility, but the other Slytherins were just a bunch of idiots if they were following in their parents’ footsteps. Harry couldn’t help but feel the only reason Draco Malfoy had crossed over to the good side was because he had Severus Snape as a godfather. He was certain Snape had preached against Voldemort ever since Malfoy was a small child.

“Want to sit by me in class?” he asked suddenly, taking the older boy by surprise.

“Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?” he asked, motioning discreetly with his hand his Slytherin housemates, who were now glaring with a vengeance at both boys.

Harry shrugged, not really caring what they thought. “I don’t think so. If they don’t like it, well, too bad for them.”

Draco smirked. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I shouldn’t care either.” He eyed his old friends with a look Harry didn’t quite recognize. “I just wish there was something I could do…some of them feel the same way I do about Voldemort. They’re just too frightened of the consequences of going against their parents or Voldemort himself,” he said suddenly. Harry could see he was looking at one of his year mates with dark hair, standing off by himself. Harry thought he knew him as a boy named Blaise Zabini.

“Talk to him,” said Harry simply. “If he’s your friend, you at least owe it to him to try. He might not realize that he can get protection if he just goes to Professor Dumbledore, or Professor Snape if he doesn’t feel comfortable with the Headmaster.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Draco in a thoughtful tone.

At that point, Professor Binn’s floated into the classroom and ushered everyone into their seats.

“Let’s begin, children, shall we?” Binn’s asked slowly. “Can anyone tell me about the Gran Wars of 1653?” he asked. Harry, obviously, had absolutely no clue what his Professor was talking about and immediately started to drift off, Binn’s monotone voice making it quite easy to accomplish.

“Potter, are you falling asleep?” asked a voice from beside him.

Harry nodded tiredly. “Yes, Malfoy, that is exactly what I’m doing.” He replied, not moving his head from its position on his arms. “You should do it too, it’s really fun.” He added, not quite there anymore.

Malfoy chuckled. “You’re going to miss class. The Gran Wars were really interesting, don’t you want to hear about them?”

“No.” Nothing coming out of Binn’s mouth could sound even remotely interesting, even if they had been.

“Fine, fine,” muttered Malfoy, and Harry smirked to himself that time.

……………………..

Later that night and after Occlumency lessons with his father, Malfoy suddenly popped in.

“Good evening, Severus,” Draco said as he sat himself down on the sofa, making himself right at home.

“Indeed,” replied Severus caustically. “Did you bring your homework?”

“Yes, it’s right here.” Draco pulled his bag onto his lap and patted it with his hand.

“Very good. Harry, please show Draco to your room. I would like for the two of you to finish the assignments for tomorrow. Harry, I know Professor Binn’s never received a finished essay from you today. You’ll finish it after you’ve done the rest of your assignments and turn it in tomorrow.” He said pointedly.

Harry cringed. He’d forgotten all about his essay once he’d started talking to Malfoy and then he’d fallen asleep. “Yes, sir.” He answered automatically. Draco glanced at him.

The two boys quickly gathered their things and went into Harry’s bedroom. Malfoy made to close the door, but a sharp voice stopped him.

“Leave it open. I’ll want to check on you occasionally to make sure you’re doing your work.”

Harry sighed. He’d prefer the door to remain open anyways, but Draco was looking put out. “No Quidditch Weekly tonight.” He mumbled unhappily.

Once again, Harry was taken by surprise at Draco descent into normalness. He had a lot in common with Ron, but he had no intention of telling him that. The two boys worked silently through most of the evening. Harry was finding it hard to concentrate, as he still had a headache from his lessons with his father earlier that evening. He never knew Occlumency could be so challenging and hard on the head. He knew his father didn’t enjoy having these lessons with him, considering it was taking a toll on the boy, especially when he dredged up the more difficult memories that he had tried to forget or push to the back of his mind. It seemed those were the first to be pulled from him.

As soon as he finished with his homework he pulled out the uncompleted essay and started on it. By this point, his head was throbbing.

“Maybe you should take a break,” intoned Draco after watching Harry rub at his forehead for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

Harry glanced up and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Placing his quill beside his parchment, Harry stood up from his chair and stretched. He grew dizzy almost immediately and started to sway on his feet.

“Harry?” asked Malfoy, startled. He grabbed the teetering boy around his arm and helped him back into his chair. “Hang on, I’ll go get Severus.”

Lying his head down on the desk, Harry waited patiently for the spinning sensation to stop. A moment later he felt a warm hand at the base of his neck.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m just dizzy.” He explained. “I think I must have stood up too fast.”

“He keeps rubbing his forehead like it hurts.” blurted Malfoy.

Severus quickly leaned down, peering into Harry’s bleary eyes. “Is it a vision, Harry?” he asked, placing his hand upon his forehead, checking for the ominous fever.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Severus sighed in relief. “Very good. I suppose then that you’re having a headache induced by the Occlumency lessons.” He said, narrowing down his thoughts to one possible cause.

“Potter’s taking Occlumency?” asked Malfoy, clearly surprised. “Why?”

Harry shrugged and Severus gave Draco a look that shut him up immediately. Harry knew Malfoy would be asking him later on, though.

“Here, Harry, drink this.” Severus handed him another vial, it seemed all he did lately was drink vials of nasty tasting potions. He gulped it down in one go and nearly gagged. It was a stronger dose, he could tell, and it even seemed more thick than usual. Feeling as if the potion was clinging to his throat, he asked his father for a glass of water. Instantly, a tray with a pitcher of clear iced water and a glass appeared beside him. Severus poured him a drink and as he drank it the nasty feeling in his mouth finally went away.

“I suppose we’ll call it an early night.” Said Severus, glancing at his watch. It was only nine in the evening. Harry normally didn’t even get into bed for another hour and a half. But, he had to admit that he was exhausted and a good long sleep was sounding really nice about now. He watched as Draco gathered up all of his homework and shoved it into his bag.

“See you tomorrow, Potter.” He said, and Harry nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He replied, sitting down on his bed. He heard the door shut beyond his bedroom and finally flopped down onto the bed. “I’m so tired.” He mumbled and noticed Severus was looking at him in concern. “I’m okay.”

“You need to rest. Tomorrow you have to meet with Albus for your strengthening magic. I think I’ll come again this time, just to be on the safe side.” He told Harry.

“Okay.” Harry didn’t mind if his father came with him, he actually liked for his father to be there when he did such amazing things with his powers, that even he didn’t know he could accomplish. The look of awe and pride that always flickered across Severus’ face was worth it, even if he was constantly telling him to do things a certain way.

Falling asleep that night wasn’t difficult at all. It was the nightmare that occurred an hour later that kept him up for the rest of the night.