Dear Ron,

How are you? Is your family all well? Have you heard from Hermione at all?

You'll never guess what happened to me this summer. If you haven't already heard, ask your Dad about it. I think he knows but I haven't seen any of your family. I can't say much in this letter except that I am fine. If your Dad tells you anything about what happened, please don't write it in a letter. I would get in so much trouble.

Please write soon and tell everyone I said hi.

Harry

--------------

Dear Hermione,

How's your vacation? It sounds like fun. I have a lot to tell you when I see you but I can't say any of it in this letter. I'm fine and safe right now.

I heard you're going to be staying with Ron later. I wish I could join you but I'm having a good summer where I am, surprisingly.

Write me soon.

Harry

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Harry woke up early feeling very stiff and sore. He hadn't realized at the time just how hard he had fallen during his duel yesterday. He couldn't turn far enough to see it, but he'd bet galleons that he had a nice big bruise on his backside too.

He stuck his head out of his door and peeked into the dining room. Snape was either still in his own rooms or out already. His clock showed that he still had an hour until breakfast so he rushed through his letters to Ron and Hermione.

With a half hour to spare, he limped to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. Turning on the tap as hot as he could stand it, he just stood under the water, letting the heat soothe his sore muscles. He stayed in there until his hands were pruney.

When he finally got out, Snape was already sitting at the table, a light breakfast for two spread before him. "Good morning sir," Harry said as he tucked in to his meal. As always, his only response was a curt nod.

When he was done, he remembered that he had used magic last night and a small spike of dread ran through his body.

"Professor?"

"What?" Snape asked without looking up from his newspaper.

"Will I get in trouble for using magic last night? Last summer, I almost got expelled because of that dementor attack and I really don't want to go to another trial."

Snape set his paper aside. "You will not," he said with finality. "The school is an acceptable place for all underage wizards to use magic and no tracers can reach inside the wards placed around the castle and its grounds. And Potter?"

"Yes sir?"

"Even if you are not at the school, if you are in any danger at all, do not hesitate to use magic. I don't care what the ministry has to say about the matter."

"But can't they expel if I do?"

"They can try," Snape said with a snort. "But since everyone knows that the Dark Lord is back now, it is highly unlikely that they would. If that happens Potter, the Headmaster or I will deal with it."

Harry sat back feeling immensely relieved; someone else would deal with it, Snape or the Headmaster. It almost felt like having parents. "I wrote Ron and Hermione," he said after a moment, interrupting Snape's perusal of the paper again.

Snape dropped the paper back on the counter and returned his attention to him. "You said nothing about your whereabouts or myself?"

"No. Here, there's not much in there at all," he said, fishing them out of his pockets. He passed them to Snape, who looked them over for a few seconds only.

"Acceptable. I'll send them later. We will refrain from using your owl...what was its name?"

"Hedwig."

"She is too conspicuous."

"Can I go with you to mail it? I‘d like to visit her."

"Fine," Snape waved his hand in the air as though he couldn't care less and went back to his paper again. After a minute of watching Snape concentrating on one particular article, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He hadn't even thought about what was in the news for days, but now he was dying to know.

"Um, sir? Can I see that when you're done?"

Snape ignored him for several seconds and Harry wondered if he had irritated the man. But when Snape finished reading the story he was on, he set the paper face up on the table, turned it to Harry, and pointed to a particular article at the bottom of the page. Harry ignored the headlines that screamed out the news that Voldemort was back and began reading what Snape had pointed him to.

The-Boy-Who-Lived...Chosen One or Not?

Sources in the ministry have disclosed that the incident of last month involving Harry Potter and the legendary but secretive Order of the Phoenix, when You-Know-Who's return was confirmed, was centered in and around the fabled Hall of Prophecies.

The rest of the article was speculation on whether the battle had been fought over a prophecy about himself and whether he was, in fact, the boy that would defeat the Dark Lord. Harry groaned. "Oh great! Last year they all thought I was nutters. Now they think I'm their ‘only hope'," he quoted from the article.

Snape snorted. "The public is fickle. Ignore them. Those who matter will fight on their own whether or not they believe this tripe." Then Snape pointed to another article and Harry pulled the paper back up.

Ongoing Investigations Into Rumors That Harry Potter Was Rescues From You-Know-Who

Rumors still abound in the community about the capture and subsequent rescue of Harry Potter, The-Boy Who-Lived. The questions everyone still want answered? Who rescued Harry Potter? And where is he now? Both Minister Fudge and Headmaster Dumbledore have remained silent on this score.

The Daily Prophet recently caught up with Harry Potter's muggle relatives. When asked about their nephew, the Dursley family declined to comment and told the reporter, "that boy is gone, you hear. We don't know where he is and you'd better leave us alone or we'll call the police." There are whispers that...

Harry looked up. "It doesn't say anything at all about you in there," he said with a frown.

"You might have noticed that the article doesn't say anything specific Potter. It is all rumors and conjectures about where you may be hiding."

"Oh. So, no one really knows where I am then?"

"Certainly not the Daily Prophet. Let's hope it stays that way."

"But Hogwarts is safe isn't it?"

Snape shrugged. "One thing you must learn in war Potter; no one is ever safe. If the enemy is determined enough, any fortress can be infiltrated. Pay attention to your surroundings no matter where you are."

Harry nodded. That was...not comforting. But then, he didn't expect Snape to be comforting. In the last few days, Harry had come to expect Snape to be brutally honest. At times, his blunt candor wasn't very encouraging, but at least he didn't lie or mislead him. . .which in itself was reassuring in a strange way.

"Are the Dursley's in any danger?" he asked. He felt only a little concerned and asked out of duty rather than actual fear.

"They have agreed to move. Beyond that, I can't say," Snape answered.

"There have been no attacks since the Sanasta's assault in there," Snape nodded toward the paper, after Harry picked it up to see what the rest of it said. "That means nothing of course. The Daily Prophet, despite what it claims, does not hear everything. Still, it is a good sign. The Dark Lord must still be recovering from his latest loss."

"You mean me? Why would he need to recover from that?"

Snape didn't answer but he had a very malicious smirk on his face. Harry didn't understand. Had he missed something? And then he remembered that explosion in Voldemort's compound.

"What was that explosion? When we were escaping, I heard one. Was that you?"

Snape's smirk grew. "My parting gift," he said in a very pleased voice. Harry had the impression that he was missing a very good joke.

"What gift?" Harry started to ask, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Snape repeated his usual ritual of brandishing his wand and turning the door clear from the inside before opening it to admit the Headmaster.

"Severus! Harry, my boy! How are you both?"

Snape ignored the question and sat back down, indicating that the Headmaster should sit as well.

"I'm fine sir, thank you," Harry answered.

The Headmaster sat and then proceeded to stare at Harry's head strangely. It took Harry a few seconds to remember that Snape had shaved it. His cheeks began to burn and he looked into his cup of tea.

"I must say," the Headmaster began, "that is an unusual style for you Harry." Harry noticed the Headmaster's eyes slip to the Potions Master, but Snape was finishing off his own eggs and completely ignored the Headmaster's statement. The Headmaster was not to be deterred though.

"Don't you think Severus?"

Snape looked entirely unconcerned as he set the paper down again and looked at Harry's head then at the Headmaster. "Really? I think it's sensible."

Harry glared at Snape and the Headmaster looked back and forth between the two; one glaring, the other inspecting his nails. "Well I suppose it is that," Albus said with evident confusion. Snape smirked.

"Well I think it's too breezy," Harry said hotly, crossing his arms. He wanted to say something meaner but held it back because when he had opened his mouth, Snape had turned a shrewd eye on him and he had lost his nerve. What a stupid thing to say though! Harry looked down at his arms.

"That's just the air blowing through your ears Potter," Snape sniped back.

"Now boys," Albus said, but he had a slight smile on his face. "I'm sure Severus could grow it back for you. There are potions for this sort of thing. Many people get haircuts they don't like after all."

"I'm sorry Headmaster, Mr. Potter," Snape said in what was obviously contrived distress, with a hand above his heart (if he in fact had one, Harry thought). "But I've run out of the necessary ingredients. I'm sure Mr. Potter will get used to it though. Won't you Potter?"

"Yeah. I just love it. It's so much better than having to wash my hair," he added sarcastically, looking at Snape's long black hair.

Snape only smirked cruelly at him.

The Headmaster smiled broadly. "Wonderful! Wonderful. It's settled then."

"Would you like some tea Headmaster?" Snape asked, remembering his manners.

"Do you still have that lemon grass tea? That was quite splendid."

Snape stood with a roll of his eyes and a nod. The Headmaster winked at Harry and he smiled back.

Harry wondered if the Headmaster often stopped by to visit with Snape. He certainly seemed relaxed in Snape's apartments. He didn't think many people could say that. He was just now starting to feel comfortable here himself. If Snape hadn't killed him in the last few days, he figured there was a good chance Snape wasn't homicidal towards him.

"I must say Severus, you do make very good tea. What do you put in this? It's not just lemongrass?"

"Nightshade actually. A lethal dose."

Harry's jaw dropped but the Headmaster just chuckled. "Ah, a secret ingredient then. Perhaps...love?" The Headmaster looked like he was trying desperately to stifle a laugh. Harry had no such restraint and laughed outright.

"Don't be disgusting," Snape said with a look of immense distaste. "I've just eaten."

"But truly, this is delicious. Would you like to try some Harry?" Dumbledore held his cup out.

"Oh, no thanks Professor. I have an allergy to Nightshade."

The Headmaster broke into a full out laugh. Harry looked at Snape and was surprised to note that one corner of his mouth was curved slightly upwards, almost in a smile.

"What can I do for you Headmaster?" Snape asked when Albus stopped chuckling.

"Oh, do I need an excuse to come and visit my favorite Potions Master?"

"Your only Potions Master," Snape said dryly.

Albus ignored him. "I just wanted to see how everything was."

"I do believe they are unchanged since the last time you asked Headmaster."

"Surely your injuries are better. Madam Pomfrey would be devastated if her treatments weren't working. I could always call her back," Dumbledore pulled on his beard as though considering it.

Harry hid a laugh behind his hand at the sight of Snape's widened eyes.

"Don't you dare," he hissed, leaning forward.

"But if you're not better..."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm quite all right," Snape interrupted hastily.

The Headmaster sighed. "You are difficult to tease in the morning Severus."

"One wonders why you keep trying then," Snape said dryly as he rose to take his dishes to the kitchen sink.

"I do so enjoy the challenge though. It's a mental exercise."

"Perhaps you require a less, ah, rigorous routine Headmaster."

"Not necessary Severus. I like to jump right in first thing in the morning. Now tell me, what do you have planned today?"

Snape sat back down and leaned back in his chair, looking quite comfortable in the Headmaster's presence. "Have you a job for me?"

"Not a job per se," the Headmaster said with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Snape actually groaned, much to Harry's amusement. "In that case, I'm very busy today."

"You haven't even heard what it is."

"And yet..." Snape let his sentence die.

Albus went on undeterred. "Molly has invited Harry, and you of course, to dinner tonight."

"Headmaster," Snape started.

"And before you interrupt, she'll be cooking at Grimmauld Place. Her children are anxious to see Harry again and I see no harm in it."

"And nor do I," Snape said, standing again. "Do give my apologies to Mrs. Weasley and have a splendid time Headmaster."

"Oh, but Severus. I can't make it."

"Then get the werewolf to bring him," Snape said in a chilly voice.

"Remus," Albus corrected him firmly, "will be running late this evening. You'll have to bring him Severus."

Harry sat forward in his chair. He really wanted to see the Weasleys again. He didn't want to upset Snape nor did he particularly care to go to Grimmauld Place, but he really wanted to see Ron. It would be worth it, if Snape would agree to go.

"What do you think Harry?" Albus asked as Snape's face became darker.

"I...I would be very grateful if you could take me sir," Harry said, looking at Snape.

Snape was silent for a moment, and Harry fancied he could see a vein throbbing in the man's head.

"What time?" he spoke through clenched teeth. Harry managed to keep his lower jaw united with his upper through force of will alone.

Dumbledore rose and clapped a hand on Snape's shoulder. "Six o'clock tonight. This is splendid. Molly's been ever so worried about Harry."

"I'm sure," Snape snarled dangerously.

The Headmaster, observant though he was, missed Snape's meaning, but Harry didn't. Did Mrs. Weasley think Snape was a bad choice to watch over him as well? He really hoped there was no argument tonight.

"Well, that's settled. Have you had any luck with the, ah, translations?" the Headmaster asked Snape cryptically.

Harry's ears perked up. Were those translations he read something to do with the war?

"I have...made some progress. But I already told you..."

"Yes," Albus nodded. "I am working on that."

"What's to work on? We need to go and get it."

"Too much could go wrong."

"Too much...? Headmaster, forgive me, but if this is even a possibility, too much could go wrong if we delay." Snape glanced at Harry and noted his interest, but didn't bother lowering his voice. "Until we have it, I cannot be sure of anything."

Dumbledore too glanced at Harry but he didn't ignore him. "I think we'll discuss this later Severus."

Harry looked at the Headmaster with disappointment. He noticed Snape too seemed disappointed and impatient for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to think it was important to have it now.

"Fine," Snape said. "Though we might as well not speak of it until you are willing to risk the venture. I can add nothing more than what I've already told you until we have it."

The Headmaster nodded. "I will work on it. You have my word. I am fully aware of the importance."

Snape said nothing, though he looked like he very much wanted to.

"And now, I'll be leaving. Do have a nice time tonight."

Snape growled low in his throat. "I'm sure it will be delightful."

"There's the spirit," the Headmaster said as he left. He didn't look back to see Snape scowling.

Harry stayed seated, watching Snape. "Um, thank you sir; for taking me tonight and all. We don't have to stay long. I mean, of course you knew that, but I mean, I'm ok with it, if we don't - that is. . ." He stopped when he realized he was rambling.

Snape sat back down and pulled his coffee to him. "There are rules to this outing Potter. I will expect you to follow them without question."

"Of course sir!" Harry exclaimed. Snape waved his hand to call for silence.

"We leave when I say we leave. No arguing. No appealing to any others." Snape stared at him intently and Harry nodded. "I want you in my sight at all times while we are there. No running off to play with your little friends unless I tell you that you may."

Harry nodded again but just had to ask, "Am I in danger sir?"

He was surprised when Snape seemed to lose his stride for a moment. "What kind of question is that Potter?"

"I thought Grimmauld Place was supposed to be safe is all."

"That house," Snape spat, "is not safe."

"But I thought...."

"You thought wrong then. When Black died, there was question as to who would inherit. Of course, Black left everything to you but..."

"Wait! He left me everything?" Harry asked wide-eyed.

"You mean you didn't know?" Snape asked incredulously.

"No," Harry said angrily. "No one tells me anything!"

Snape leaned forward and spoke in a slightly angry voice. "And just why do you think that is Potter?"

"I don't know. No good reason," Harry crossed his arms.

"Oh no you don't Potter!" Snape slammed his fist on the table and Harry jumped. "It's time you start acting your age and thinking. I won't excuse your mental laziness like the others. You know why no one tells you a thing. Why is it Potter?"

Harry sat back and uncrossed his arms. This was very like when Snape made him recount every time he had not dodged the killing curse. He looked everywhere but at Snape as he answered. "Because I don't know Occlumency."

"You're not the only Order member that doesn't. You'll have to do better than that Potter."

"Because He can read my mind."

"Not read Potter. I've told you, the mind is not a book that can be perused at one's leisure."

"But how do I stop him from getting in? He hasn't been in my mind for a month you know?"

"I've already told you how Potter. If you're too stupid..."

"I am not stupid!" Harry yelled, pushing his chair back and standing up. "If you had taught me anything..."

"I tried to teach you Potter!" Snape spat, now standing himself. "You didn't want to learn. You and you alone failed."

"How was telling me to clear my mind supposed to help me?" Harry yelled back.

"Don't tell me how to teach Potter. You want to know what it would do, why don't you try it and find out?"

"I can't! I don't know how! You never told me how! Or why!"

"I should think the why would be clear even to you Potter!"

"Well it's not! Why do I have to clear my mind to force someone out of it? It doesn't make sense."

Snape grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward. "You want to know how it helps Potter?" he asked in a menacing voice.

Harry gulped and took a step back. All of a sudden, he wasn't all that curious to find out. "I can show you, if you want to know," Snape continued in a deceptively quiet voice.

Harry didn't want to know, but he found himself squaring his shoulders anyway and meeting Snape's eyes. "Yes," he said in a surprisingly steady voice. "I want to know."

Snape smiled slowly and pushed his sleeves up, not bothering to keep the Dark Mark hidden at all. "Come here," he said, gesturing for him to come forward with a crooked finger.

Harry moved slowly, part of his mind screaming at him to turn tail and run, the other needing to know what Snape meant.

When he got to Snape, Snape grabbed his shoulders by both hands and held him steady. "Look at me Potter."

Harry met his eyes and clamped down on his own uncertainty. This was a lesson. And like most lessons from Snape, it might not be pleasant, but it was probably important.

Nothing happened for a heartbeat, and then Snape spoke a word under his breath that Harry couldn't even hear. The room melted away from his vision.

The room melted away from his vision and was replaced by a cell. A tiny cell. And in the corner of the cell, a dementor was watching a prisoner. Harry took a step closer and the prisoner looked up. It was Snape!

Harry backed up until he hit something solid and warm. When he spun around, he saw that he had backed right into Snape. He whipped his head back to the prisoner and realized with a shock that this was a memory. Nothing good ever came from being inside Snape's memories.

Prisoner Snape was dirty and his hair was longer than Harry had ever seen it. Greasy didn't even begin to describe it. It was tangled and matted with blood and dirt. His left eye was swollen shut but the other eye was clear and...sane looking. Harry moved closer despite himself. What was a dementor doing in the cell with Snape? And why didn't Snape seem to be affected by it?

"It was a present from the guards." Snape's voice in the quiet made him jump and he turned back to watch his Snape, who was in turn watching the dementor. "They knew that Dumbledore was attempting to get me out. It made them...angry. So they stationed a dementor in my cell night and day."

Snape seemed oddly detached from this memory, as though it couldn't hurt him. And, Harry noticed, Memory-Snape seemed equally detached. He moved even closer and looked in Memory-Snape's good eye. Snape's eyes were a dark chocolate brown in this memory. "But your eyes are black!" he exclaimed in surprise.

Snape moved closer and looked down at himself. "They haven't always been," he said, looking at his former self's brown eyes with indifference.

"What happened?"

"That's not the point Potter."

Harry nodded but couldn't help but wonder when and how Snape's eyes had become black.

"This is what clearing your mind can do for you Potter: if you forget yourself, no one can hurt you. No one can see you if you do not see yourself; not even the dementors. When you clear your mind, you hide your identity. No emotions can hurt you. You and you alone can control what people see in you. Make your mind a blank slate and you can hide or project anything you wish." Snape spoke in low tones, reminiscent of Harry's very first potions class and Snape's speech about the power of potions.

Harry backed away from the prisoner and the dementor, though none of them were real. He did not like this. "I can't do that," he whispered.

"Then you will never learn Occlumency," Snape said in a harsh voice.

"I don't care. I'd rather die than give up who I am."

"Don't be ridiculous Potter! It's not permanent." But even Snape was frowning at his memory self as though he did not like what he was seeing. Despite the fact that Snape looked sane in the memory, there was still something very disturbing about him. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was there all the same. Something in Memory-Snape's eyes spoke of complete and utter indifference, as though he could watch loved ones be killed and not be hurt by it. Maybe he was, Harry thought with a shudder, remembering what dementors did to people.

Perhaps Snape noticed it too because he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and pulled him back out of the memory.

When the room stopped spinning, Harry looked back up at Snape. "I can't do it," he whispered. "I know it's important but I can't do that." He did understand how it helped Snape. It had probably saved the man's life on more than one occasion. And it had brought Snape out of Azkaban sane, presumably. But Harry knew, deep down, that he could never ignore his emotions and he wondered if Snape was truly happy doing so. And if he weren't, would he even know? How could you live without emotions?

"Then the Dark Lord will steal your secrets," Snape said matter-of-factly.

Harry sat down, mulling over all that Snape had said. If he couldn't clear his mind, then no one would ever tell him anything. But...hadn't Voldemort already tried to steal his secrets when he had been caught? He jumped back up from the chair.

"No! Wait. Before you came to get me, he...he used Legilimency on me. It didn't work. I think he was trying to look for the prophecy, but I pushed him out." He was excited now.

Snape frowned but didn't call him a liar. "If that is true Potter, then why is it so easy for me to break into your mind?"

Harry stopped pacing. "I don't know Occlumency. Maybe...maybe this is different...maybe this has something to do with the connection between me and...me and him!"

"Sit down for a moment Potter," Snape said. He didn't look angry, despite their earlier argument or Harry's refusal to clear his mind to the extent that Snape could. Instead, he looked curious. When Harry sat, Snape knelt before him and leaned forward. "Let me see this memory Potter."

Harry sucked in a breath. He did not like how it felt to have his memories viewed but he wanted to know what Snape thought. If this was true, he was immune to Voldemort. Well, his mind was at least. But he didn't trust his own instincts in this matter. Snape would know if it were true.

"Ok," Harry agreed. "What do I need to do?"

"Nothing. I'll find it." Snape looked directly into his eyes, whispered "Legilimens," and Harry immediately began seeing random memories pop into his mind. For a moment, he tried to stop it, but Snape was unaffected by his attempts and he remembered that Snape needed to see this memory so he just tried to relax. Snape was shifting through them quickly. When he found one of himself carrying Harry away from Voldemort's compound, he slowed down and went backwards in the memory so fast that Harry saw only a blur of motion. When Snape stopped again, Harry saw himself being dragged from his cell and brought to Voldemort.

Snape watched the memory twice before exiting. When he did pull back, Harry caught his breath while watching the man. Snape was still kneeling on the floor before Harry, looking in his direction, but Harry could see that he wasn't looking at him at all but thinking about what he had seen.

"Well?" he asked, interrupting Snape's thoughts. Snape stood abruptly, grabbed a quill and a paper and drew a cuneiform symbol on the table.

"Have you ever seen this symbol Potter? In your dreams of the Dark Lord perhaps? Or in his compound? Anywhere?"

Harry stood up and glanced between Snape and the paper in confusion. What did this have to do with anything?

"I believe you're correct Potter. The Dark Lord will not enter your mind and find this. You seem to have found a way to stop him. Though I must question the method, it does seem to work. Now answer the question. Concentrate Potter. This is important."

Harry smiled in relief at Snape's assurance. There was one less thing to worry about. Now about the symbol...

It was definitely similar to the tablet that Snape had been trying to translate except it looked more like a drawing than a cuneiform word. "Does it translate?" he asked, tracing the symbol with his finger.

"No," Snape answered. "Though it may be a combination of words. I have considered it but I have found nothing that matches so far."

Harry stared at it for a moment longer. There was something...something familiar about it. But he just couldn't put his finger on it. Perhaps he had only seen it while looking through Snape's papers. "No," he said at last. "I don't think I've seen this."

Snape sank into the chair and rested his head on his hand. Harry sat down across from him. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't worry about it," Snape said.

"Is it very important?"

"I'm not sure."

"Is that what you and the Headmaster were talking about?"

Snape nodded, then looked up. "What were you thinking about when you pushed the Dark Lord out of your mind?"

"My friends. I was thinking about my friends."

"Your friends," Snape repeated, eyeing Harry as though he were a new entity all together.

"I don't think he appreciates friendship sir."

"No, he doesn't," but Snape was still looking at him oddly.

"I think...I think feeling love might hurt him."

"Love," Snape repeated with a sneer and a roll of his eyes. "Love is not a tool of the Occlumens."

"Well," said Harry, feeling indignant, "this isn't Occlumency then. It's a...Dark Lord thing maybe."

"Potter," Snape leaned forward. "I know Dark Wizards. They may not be impressed by love, but they are certainly not allergic to it."

"Well Voldemort is!"

"Don't say that name!" Snape roared, jumping to his feet.

Harry fell back into his chair. "Sorry sir." He really wanted to know what Snape's issue with Voldemort's name was. He was sure it wasn't fear.

Snape began to pace before him. "What else were you thinking about when he invaded your mind? Were you trying to block?"

"I couldn't. He was too strong. I'm telling you, it was love."

"It could have been any number of things Potter. Don't close your mind to the possibilities."

"You're the one with the narrow mind. Why can't it be love?"

Snape ignored him though. "Has this happened before?" Snape asked, stopping in front of him.

"Yes," Harry answered with a shaky voice. He really didn't want to speak about that night again.

"Well?"

Harry sighed. "At the Department of Mysteries."

"My, my. A lot seems to have happened at the Department of Mysteries. Tell me, did you force the Dark Lord out then too, or did the Headmaster throw a mental statue in the way of that as well?"

"No! You know, you can be really mean sometimes."

Snape crossed his arms and looked down at him as though he were stupid. And maybe he was, because for the life of him, he couldn't think how that would hurt Snape's feelings at all.

"How astute you are Potter. I'm mean. Need I remind you how very irrelevant that is to the topic at hand?"

"No more irrelevant than the...the mean things you say."

"Did he Potter? Did he save you? Are we basing all of our assumptions about your connection with the Dark Lord on one example?"

"No! I was thinking of Sirius!" he yelled. Images of Sirius falling through the veil with a look of surprise played in his mind. It had been his love for Sirius and his pain at the loss that had driven Voldemort out that time. Harry was breathing hard and his hands were shaking. He couldn't think about this; he just couldn't. It hurt too much. It was too new. Tears stung his eyes and he realized with horror that he was crying in front of Snape. What would the man think?

He ran for his room and didn't stop even when Snape called out "Potter!" He didn't stop until he was behind his door and lying under the covers. Then he sobbed into his pillow, a mixture of mortification and deep sadness making his chest ache.

"Sirius. Sirius," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."