The next morning, Harry found out exactly what Snape had meant last night when he had said they didn't have time for his punishments.

"Good morning sir," he said as he sat down to eat.

This time Snape did speak rather than just nod, but it wasn't to bid him a good day. "I am able to allocate precisely two hours of free time every day Potter. I have decided to devote those hours exclusively to your education."

Two hours? On what? "Oh. Um, what will I be studying then? Sir," he added hastily.

"Whatever I feel you need to learn. Today, we will work on your dodging skills. It will likely be an ongoing lesson."

"Dodging?" Harry scoffed.

Snape set his fork down with deliberate care and glared at him with disgust. But his glare quickly grew into a smile. Harry could practically see the wheels turning in Snape's head. Right. He'd just make sure to think before speaking.

"You'd be surprised how much you have to learn Potter. And did you not believe me when I told you that the best defense was not getting hit?"

"Well, yeah, I believed you. But I didn't think you could learn to dodge." Of course Harry hadn't forgotten their little talk about the killing curse. In fact, it hadn't been far from his mind at all these last days. But could Snape really teach him to dodge? Wasn't that just something you did or didn't do well?

"Necessity is a great teacher Potter," Snape said with a smug smile. "And reflexes can be learned." Harry groaned into his plate.

When breakfast was done, Snape got up and went to the door. "I will call for you when I am free. Stay out of trouble."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

When Snape had gone, Harry went back to his room and put his trainers on. He'd go to the lake and walk around. Maybe explore the castle for a little while. He ran his hand over Snape's book before leaving. He wouldn't mind taking that with him but at this point, Snape might kill him if he disobeyed him again. He'd been there little over a week and already he had gotten in trouble for looking through the man's papers, broke down in front of him over Sirius and got caught spying with his friends last night. Even he had to admit, from Snape's point of view, his conduct was probably...disappointing.

Instead, he took one of Snape's old defense books from the shelf and sat by the lake. He even took notes. But more often than not, he was noting the things Snape had written in the margins instead of the passages from the book itself.

A little over two hours had passed and his back was starting to get sore from sitting on the rock. After a quick stretch, he packed his books and made his way back to the castle. What to do now? He checked his watch. He should send Snape a message for practice.

Concentrating on his message (Can I help with anything?) he formed his Patronus and sent it off. He noted with pleasure that the edges were starting to look a little clearer.

He supposed he could go exploring or go back to his room. Maybe he could check out more of Snape's book. He certainly didn't expect Snape to want his help, but it would be more interesting than being alone.

He was starting to feel less vulnerable in Snape's presence. It was odd, he thought. The day after their escape, when the Headmaster had explained things to him, he had had so many conflicting emotions; he hadn't known what to do with them. Just being in Snape's presence had unnerved him, in more ways than one. And every time something personal had been brought up, he had cringed from it, believing that Snape would ridicule him.

Of course, Snape didn't go out of his way to make those things comfortable for him. But in some ways that was better than people skirting issues and giving him pitying looks; something his friends did all too often. It only ever put him in a bad mood. And then there were the people, like Molly Weasley, that were always saying things like, "Oh you poor dear." And then Remus would come along and put his hand on his shoulder and smile and say things like, "I've been worried about you. You know you can come talk to me any time right?" And he did know and appreciate it. But did they really expect him to just start blabbing about anything and everything under the sun to them?

And the Headmaster. Well, he was a different case altogether. He was always so nice and kind, with his lemon drops and his herbal teas. And when there was anything weighty to talk about, he would sit Harry down and explain it all in such a philosophical way. "You see Harry, I've forgotten what it was to be young." Had the man forgotten how to talk to the young as well? He was the Headmaster of a school after all. How removed from it could he be? But then, Harry didn't see him sitting down with many other students. He could be wrong, but it seemed that the Headmaster rarely talked to other students, outside the normal greetings in the hallways. And he only talked to Harry after something terrible had happened. He believed the Headmaster when he said he cared about him, he really did. He just got so fed up with the old wizard's long-winded explanations and his abstract, self-possessed air. After all the things that had happened to Harry at this school, he really expected the Headmaster to be more forthcoming about events. And certainly less long winded when Harry was tired after his every ordeal. The man must just wait for Harry to end up injured before he came to visit. No, that was not being fair. Still, he did feel that way sometimes.

And then there was McGonagall, of course. She was his Head of House and she had taken Harry's side in matters more than once. Of course, she had also ignored him and his friends when he'd gone to her for help. And her defense of him had almost always been in response to something that insulted her or her house. Like with Snape and his Slytherin favoritism or with Umbridge and her insults and interruptions during the career counseling. Harry wondered if she had really meant that about helping him become an Auror, or if she had just been saying it to spite Umbridge.

He found himself wondering what would have happened if he had gone to Snape that night in first year instead of McGonagall. Of course, at that time he had suspected Snape. But if he hadn't, how would Snape have dealt with the situation?

He let his mind wander down that road. Snape was paranoid enough that he would want to check it out. He probably would have put Harry and his friends somewhere out of the way until he had dealt with the situation. And he probably would have dealt with the situation just fine. After all, it had seemed to Harry that Snape was the only one willing to do anything about Quirrell in the first place. Of course, Snape would have returned eventually. And instead of rewarding him points, he probably would have given Harry and his friends detentions for the rest of the year for getting involved.

That wouldn't have been any fun at all. But it would have been a lot safer. It was easy to say now that he was glad he had done all that stuff. But he remembered how scared he had been at the time - he had only been eleven, for Merlin's sake! It had gone deeper than just wanting to foil a plot. He had believed that Voldemort would come back and kill him and his friends. He couldn't have just let that happen. And he had tried to get help - fat lot of good that had done.

But Snape was quite different from all the others. He didn't side step any issue. He didn't worry about hurting Harry's feelings. In the last week, he hadn't gone out of his way to do so either. At least, Harry realized that now, after the fact. Snape didn't ignore him, he didn't excuse him, he didn't give him pitying looks and he didn't go on and on about abstract notions and philosophical conjectures. And unlike Remus, who was probably the closest thing he would ever have to a father now, he didn't tell Harry that he could come talk to him with blanket statements of comfort. He just came right out and talked about whatever it was he thought needed to be dealt with when he thought it needed to be dealt with. And as far as comparing Mrs. Weasley with Snape went, it was like comparing apples and knives. Snape had never pulled his punches to be sure. But for some reason, her public statements of sympathy and anger with his family had hurt him more than any time Snape had said something nasty. It was expected of Snape after all. And at least Snape didn't treat him like some little child who was incapable of fending for himself.

Come to think of it, he was rather surprised that Snape hadn't gotten on him for yelling back at Grimmauld Place. Sure, he had been mad at Mrs. Weasley too, but why would he let Harry get away with anything? Harry didn't think for a second that Snape had forgotten his outburst. Nor did he think that Snape was storing it up. He seemed to prefer dealing with things as they happened. Case in point; he had interrupted his discussion with Remus to haul Harry out of there.

And what had they been talking about? Had been Remus been right when he had asked Snape whether what they were talking about had been Greyback? Harry wondered if Snape was doing something about Greyback. He hadn't really given much thought to what Snape would do for the Order since the capture. The man certainly couldn't spy anymore. But it would be a mistake to think that a man of Snape's talents would be consigned to babysitting alone.

Harry made a mental list. Snape went to Order meetings. He wondered what Snape said at those meetings. Did he sneer and glare or did he just sit at the table and stare at the door waiting to get away from people he didn't like. And why was he fighting for this side if he disliked them all so much?

Snape brewed potions, for the school and for the Order as well. And once a month, he brewed Wolfsbane for Remus. From what Harry knew, Snape didn't get any compensation for that. Perhaps Snape preferred to deal in favors. He couldn't imagine Snape helping Remus out of the kindness of his heart.

Snape was working on some translation. Harry had no idea what that was about but he did get the impression that it was important. He wondered if many other Order members knew of it.

And Snape was maybe doing something about Greyback.

And himself? He was just wondering around the castle and sitting by the lake.

That made at least four duties that Snape had, not including watching over Harry. At that realization, Harry stopped in his tracks on his way back to the dungeons. That just wasn't right. Why should Snape have to do so much? He didn't even like the people he was working to save. And they didn't really like him either.

Setting his jaw in determination, Harry squared his shoulders and set off for the potions lab, where he assumed Snape would be working. He would offer to help. He might as well. He could even learn some things. And it wouldn't hurt to get more involved in the war effort. In the back of his mind was the hope that if he did so, Snape might respect him more. He may even tell him what was going on if he earned it.

And that was enlightening, Harry thought as he stomped down the steps toward the much cooler dungeons. He had always felt that he had earned information from the Headmaster and Remus and Sirius just from what he had been through and the fact that their knowledge impacted him. And he certainly had earned the right to know about the prophecy. But as far as the specifics of the war effort went, well, that was the work of other people, whose very lives depended on secrecy. In this area, Harry realized, Snape had earned the right to knowledge more than Harry, a hundred or more times over. Perhaps even in comparison with some of the other Order members. He just couldn't imagine having to face Voldemort and lie to him and spy on Death Eaters. Being in their hidey-hole had brought that fact home to Harry. He didn't think he'd be capable of doing that. Gryffindor courage or not, he rather thought he would refuse to do that. Snape had also used the word soldier more than once in the last days. That implied that Snape saw the people fighting the war as fitting into a hierarchy of sorts. Maybe Harry was at the bottom of that hierarchy from Snape's point of view. He knew there were no real ranks in the Order, except that of the Headmaster being the leader and Snape having been the spy. But maybe Snape based that idea on his time with the Death Eaters. Of course, this was all conjecture on Harry's part, but it made sense with some of Snape's comments.

The door to the potions lab was shut. He started to raise his hand to knock but changed his mind and raised his wand instead. (May I come and help?) He told his Patronus to "go to Professor Snape" and watched it go through the door. Well, at least he was already in the right place.

He waited for a minute, hoping that his message hadn't come at the exact wrong time. That would be just his luck with Snape. Or perhaps his message hadn't been clear? He hadn't gotten a response from the last one. He was just starting to get worried and thinking about using his mirror when the door opened.

"Yes," Snape said. And then he turned around and went back into the room, leaving the door open for Harry.

It took Harry a second to remember that he had asked a yes or no question. Snape certainly didn't waste words when he was brewing. Harry hurried into the room and shut the door behind him.

"There are cauldrons over there that need to be cleaned." Harry almost groaned but Snape's next words made him perk up. "Just use a charm. You may have to use it more than once. And inspect it before you set it up," he warned. "When you're done with that, there are some ingredients over there that you can prepare," he pointed to a long table at the back of the room. The book that Harry had used the last time Snape let him help brew, was already sitting out and there were markers sticking out of several pages. "I've marked the pages you'll need."

Snape was already back to brewing. And what a job of it! Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye for a moment as he set his book and notes down and began pulling the dirty cauldrons onto the workbench in the front corner of the room. Snape had eight cauldrons in all, in various stages of brewing from what Harry could tell. Three of them seemed to need Snape's immediate attention. As Harry watched, Snape began setting up another cauldron. He moved back and forth between them all after he had gotten the new one set up. Harry didn't think anyone could help Snape with all of that without getting in the way. Harry had noticed before that Snape seemed to have some sort of rhythm when working with potions. He looked down at the dirty cauldrons. Could he ever do that?

"Scourgify."

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

He had been at the cauldrons for almost fifteen minutes when Snape finally spoke up. "You will need to learn silent incantation, if only to save me from having to listen to you drone on."

Harry had been casting Scourgify and Tergeo for a while now. He had to admit, he was getting sick of casting the spells. "Yeah," he agreed, pushing his sleeves up.

Wait. Harry's head snapped up. He would actually love to learn silent incantation. "Can you teach me?"

Harry got to add another expression of Snape's to his running list that afternoon. He had encountered disgust, anger, fury, irritation, smugness, assessing, slight surprise, mild amusement and of course, the blank expression. Now he had encountered taken aback, or perhaps it was offended.

"Can I teach you?" he asked incredulously. "Potter, what is it that you think I've been trying to do all these years but teach you? The question is not whether I can teach you but whether you can learn."

"All right," Harry said, trying hard to not show his impatience. "Will you teach me? Please."

Snape had apparently gotten to a stage in the brewing that required less attention. He eyed the potions for a moment, speaking over his shoulder. "I will. Attempt to do it now."

"What, with the cauldrons?"

"Yes, with the cauldrons Mr. Potter." Snape shook his head at Harry.

"Well how do I do it?" Harry asked, about ready to start glaring at Snape's back. Couldn't he give him some instruction?

Snape set his ladle down and turned to face Harry. He crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "Point your wand at the cauldron and cast the spell without opening your mouth."

Oh yeah, real great explanation, Harry thought. But he did it all the same. He concentrated on the word, Scourgify. Nothing happened. He looked up at Snape and just barely stopped himself from putting his hands on his hips.

Snape crossed the room and stood beside him, staring down into the cauldron. Yeah, it's still dirty, Harry thought at him.

"You were thinking the words of the spell, yes?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Now this time, think about what you want to be done, not in words, but in actions. Visualize the result of your spell. Think about where you want the mess to go."

"Ok," Harry said, pointing his wand at the cauldron again. But he didn't try to cast the spell. "Um sir?"

If Snape were a normal person, he would have sighed. "What is it?" he snapped.

"Where do I want the mess to go?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"Perhaps the dustbin Mr. Potter?" Snape said dryly.

"Oh. Oh!" Harry had been thinking it was something like Scourgify and that the mess was just banished. Clearly nonverbal spells were different.

He steadied his wand and concentrated really hard on the mess lifting from the surface of the cauldron and landing in the rubbish bin. Now, he thought.

"Not bad for your first attempt Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked in astonishment and then his face was split with a wide grin. The mess was almost all gone. "That's wicked! Can you do that with every spell?"

"No, not every spell." Snape flicked his wand and two stools came flying over to them. "Take a seat," he instructed. They both sat and then Snape switched into what Harry had termed his lecture mode.

"Nonverbal spells came before verbal ones. However, nonverbal spells lacked a certain...finesse. In order to cast nonverbally, you must be able to clearly picture exactly what it is you want to happen. You know what happens when you banish an object don't you?"

"Yeah. It goes into nonbeing."

"Correct. Now visualize that and attempt to banish that cauldron." Snape pointed to the cauldron Harry had just cleared.

Harry raised his wand before he had even thought of what he was trying to do. And then he stopped and blinked in confusion. "Um, what does nonbeing look like sir?" Harry asked.

Snape's lips curled into an approximation of a smile. "Your guess is as good as mine Mr. Potter. And that is the limitation of nonverbal spells. Over time, witches and wizards realized these limitations. Each spell that you've learned was the result of rigorous study. You see, in order to do something that is difficult to visualize, you must study the phenomenon, much like a muggle scientist. When you fully understand the physical process, only then can you create a spell."

"But I don't understand," Harry said. "I mean, I get that once you've studied something, you'd be able to visualize it. But why would you create a spell instead of just doing it nonverbally?"

"Ah, but how can you really visualize complicated spells, especially things that deal with complex systems, like potions or the human body? You can't - so you must instead put all of your research and understanding into creating a word of power."

"How do you pick the word?" Harry asked in confusion. "And how could anyone else use it without knowing just as much?"

"It is not the sound of the word that unlocks the power of it. It is the creator. You'd get the same effect if you chose to create a spell in Japanese or even colloquial English, as you would in Latin. The words are chosen by the developer of the spell. The use of Latin became tradition - to prevent accidental use of a spell word in conversation."

"So, whoever first got the spell to work had to have a near perfect understanding of what it did. Then they named it," Harry summarized.

"Correct. Others are able to learn the spell simply by seeing the effects, being told a few important background facts and learning the proper incantation."

"But what if you just see a word in a book and you don't know what it does at all but you decide to try it anyway?" Harry asked.

"That would be monumentally stupid. Don't do it," Snape said with a glower.

"But what if someone did?" Harry persisted.

Snape crossed his arms but answered anyway. "The spell could work, though perhaps not as well as it would if you were versed in its purpose."

"So then, there has to be something special about the words themselves. I mean, there really are magic words, right? It's not all about intention."

Snape crossed his arms and frowned. "Here we delve into the realm of conjecture. There are a few theories, although only one has no known flaws. But yes, it would seem there are magic words."

"So, if you want to create a spell, do you have to find the magic words?"

"No. You must create the magic words. I've already told you, the creator chooses the word."

"How do you create magic words?" Harry asked. This was fascinating!

"That is exceedingly difficult to do. There's no single method. Some words become magical through constant use by many people over long periods of time. But extremely gifted witches and wizards created most spells in use today. They gave the word power because they themselves were powerful enough to do so. Once a word is given that power, magic users the world over may use it, if they do so correctly. Of course, this is all conjecture. The exact process is still unknown, even to the creators of spells."

"Have you ever created a spell?"

Snape went very still. Harry had been watching the man for days now and he still couldn't tell what this meant.

"I have," Snape said softly. Then he stood up and walked back to his cauldron.

Harry knew he wasn't going to get any information on those spells when Snape began lecturing again.

"There are many spells you have already learned that have nonverbal counterparts. Your ability to cast them is directly linked to your powers of concentration and visualization. But constant practice will enable you to perform them more easily. Over time, the spells you use most often will not require such a concerted effort. Sometimes, a nonverbal spell will require thinking about the process and effects differently than you would normally think of them while casting it using a word of power. You will have to explore each nonverbal spell until you find a way to visualize it that works for you. It is very similar to making your own spell lexicon, only with thoughts instead of words."

"I bet that's really hard to do with dueling spells," Harry thought out loud.

"You'd be surprised Potter. Dueling is an intense activity. Most people give it their complete attention while engaged in the activity."

Harry snorted. Imagine that, concentrating during a duel, he thought sarcastically.

Snape gave him a pointed glare and continued lecturing. "This enhanced concentration can aid in nonverbal casting. But it is best to practice as much as possible before a duel. Nonverbal spells can become reflexive, just like dodging, if you practice enough."

"Cool."

"Indeed."

"So, am I going to practice that with you too?" Harry asked.

"Among other things, yes."

Harry grinned, until he realized that that would require dueling Snape again. Maybe Snape would let him brew some bruise salve.

"That is enough for now. Attempt to perform all of your spells without words before you cast verbally from now on. Now get back to work Potter. There is still much to be done here."

Harry had finished scouring the cauldrons in little over a half hour using nonverbal spells. He was exceedingly proud of that, but he realized that he had a lot of practicing to do when he switched to preparing ingredients and tried to get them to chop themselves. He only managed to make a few frog livers make a squelching noise.

They worked for two hours in near silence. Harry only broke it to ask Snape a few questions about storing the prepared ingredients. Snape only broke it to criticize the quality of Harry's preparations.

Finally, Snape set aside the last cauldron he had been working on. There were a few that were still simmering, but he had already bottled and labeled seven cauldronfuls of potions.

"It is time for lunch. Go clean up and meet me in our rooms," Snape said, pulling off his gloves.

Harry went back to the rooms and realized with disgust that he was covered in nasty potions stuff. He had wanted to help, but this was probably the most inglorious job in the whole war effort. He wasn't even brewing anything!

By the time he had gotten cleaned up and changed, Snape already had a few sandwiches on the table. Harry pushed thoughts of frog guts away and dug in to his lunch.

"So, is learning to dodge going to require dueling?" Harry asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Snape glared at him until he chewed. "Take a drink and swallow before speaking again. You have deplorable table manners."

Harry took a drink and swallowed. "Sorry sir. So are we? Going to have to duel, that is?"

"Eager for a rematch Potter?" Snape said with raised brow. His black eyes positively glittered with amusement.

"No! I was just wondering." He wanted to learn, but he could say with certainty that he was not eager for a rematch with Snape quite yet.

"If it's bruise salve you're worried about, I have plenty," Snape said with a smirk.

"I bet you do," Harry muttered before taking another bite. He really didn't like the smug smile on Snape's face - not at all.

Snape finished his meal first and sat back to read through some papers that he summoned from his desk. When he finished eating, Harry took the plates and mugs to the sink and silently cleaned them with the nonverbal spell he had learned. It was the most fun he'd ever had doing chores.

Harry started to move back to the table when there was a sharp rap on the door. This time, he followed Snape's lead and pulled his wand out too. Maybe paranoia's contagious, he thought as Snape checked the door.

It was the Headmaster. And he had a very grave look on his face.

"Headmaster?" Snape asked as he pulled the door open.

"Good afternoon Severus, Harry," he nodded.

"Will you have a seat?" Snape asked with, what for him, passed as politeness.

"I'm afraid I can't stay. I've just come to tell you that there will be an Order meeting tonight at seven."

"Has something happened?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid so, I'm afraid so," he said, shaking his head. "There was another mass break out at Azkaban." He turned his eyes back to Snape, who had gone completely still.

In a voice that seemed almost too casual, Snape asked, "And Malfoy?"

Harry was surprised to see Albus' expression switch from assessing to sad in a few short heartbeats. "He is free."

Snape nodded stiffly. "Very well. I will be there, of course."

"Good, good. I assume Molly will be bringing her youngest two with her so you may as well bring Harry as well."

Another nod.

"I'll let you get back to your day then and I'll see you later."

"Thank you Headmaster," Snape said as he shut the door.

When it was just the two of them again, Harry thought he could cut the air with a knife. This was not good.

"Do you suppose they've all escaped sir?" Harry asked quietly.

"I do," Snape answered, retaking his seat.

Harry sat across from him. He wondered what they'd talk about at the meeting. Was there anything to be done about the escaped Death Eaters? He really wished they'd let him go to the meeting.

Of course, he could ask Snape if he could go - but he'd probably say no. And he doubted the other Order members would allow him either. Dumbledore, for all his talk of keeping Harry more informed, hadn't volunteered any new information since the prophecy except for what he had told him about Snape. But then, Harry hadn't tried the more direct route of just asking him what was going on. He wondered what would happen if he did.

He could just ask Snape like he had said he would last night. He was still in trouble over that though. Snape was never very keen on volunteering information. He might not tell him a thing just to punish him. But Snape didn't seem all that upset with him over what had happened last night, and he was already serving a punishment for that. Maybe he could ask Snape a few questions after the meeting. Yeah, he'd just wait until then. And he'd be sure not to give into eavesdropping at the meeting. He'd be on his best behavior.

Snape looked through his papers for a minute more before setting them back down on the table roughly. If Harry didn't know better, he'd almost say Snape was restless.

"We will meet in one hour by the lake for your lesson," Snape said as he moved for his bedroom door.

"Yes sir," Harry called out in answer, but Snape was already shutting the door behind him. With a sigh, he went to his own bedroom and lay down. He may as well get some rest before he got cursed into the ground.

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

Harry walked down to the lake alone since he had missed Snape leaving the rooms. Snape was already waiting for him down by the edge of the lake. When Harry got closer, Snape rose from his rock perch and snapped his wand out of his sleeve.

Harry had been expecting something like this and already had his wand out and ready. But Snape didn't go on the offensive. Instead, he carefully laid his wand on the rock beside him and stood back up.

Snape launched right into the lesson. "All spells move at much less than the speed of sound. This gives you time to plot the trajectory of the spell. You will cast one and I will demonstrate."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

Harry shrugged and raised his wand. "Rictumsempra!" He'd love to see Snape fall to the ground laughing.

But Snape moved away from the spell light at the last second. He didn't jump out of the way though. He just stepped to the side and bent his head. The curse flew right past his ear.

"Were you watching?" Snape asked when he stepped back into place.

"Yes."

"Again. Two or three spells this time. And pay attention to what I am doing."

He did pay attention as he cast three spells in succession. Completely focused, Snape eyed each of them as they hurtled toward him. As each spell approached him, he moved as little as possible, making the movement look efficient. Harry had to admit, that would be right handy if you lost your wand or couldn't speak - two scenarios he was now painfully acquainted with.

"Now you will try." Snape picked up his wand.

From there, things went downhill for Harry.

Harry jumped out of the way of the approaching spells. That was fine for the first spell in each volley, but jumping made it really hard to pay attention to the next spell. Even when he was able to see the next spell coming for him, his jump put him off balance and he was unable to recover in time to avoid the next one. At least Snape's spells weren't painful. He was using some kind of color marker.

"That is why efficiency of movement is so important. You lose control when you are constantly jumping about. Remain calm. Watch the spell until the last possible second, then move as little as is necessary."

It took Harry another half-hour before he was able to dodge two spells in succession, though Snape still thought his movements too wild.

"You only need to leap when you're fighting in very close quarters. And in that case, it's better to leap toward your enemy and take him out with your bare hands. Otherwise, simply step away from the spell."

By the time their two hours were done, Harry had managed to sidestep one third of the spell volleys to Snape's satisfaction. He looked down and noted with wry amusement that he was covered in splashes of every color in the spectrum. He looked like he had jumped into a giant vat of rainbow paint.

"Better Potter. In the future, I will expect you to use this method when appropriate."

"How will I know if it's appropriate?"

"One spell no one has ever managed to cast nonverbally is the killing curse. When you hear that, move. Beyond that, it's up to you. It will often be to your benefit to dodge a curse and cast your own spell rather than hold a shield. Blocking may lose you the initiative. And initiative is one of the most deciding factors in a duel. Strike first. Strike hard. Remember that."

"Right. Strike first. Strike hard," Harry repeated the lesson.

"And if you ever meet a dangerous opponent, never waste time on silly little spells like Rictumsempra. If you cannot kill your opponent, blast him unconscious. This is especially important if you're fighting more than one opponent. If you bind him, it is an easy matter for his comrades to undo your work and then your efforts will have been wasted. Give your enemy no opportunity to rise against you again."

Just like Snape had done to the Death Eaters when they had been running, Harry thought. Don't slash at them to draw blood or bind them; put them down. It seemed cold, but after his stay with Voldemort and their escape, he had very few moral objections to what Snape was telling him.

"From now on, we will also be working on conditioning you to dodge a surprise attack."

"How are we going to do that?" Harry asked. But he thought he already knew.

"You will just have to watch your back when you step out of our rooms. From this point on, your only sanctuaries are the apartment and the potions lab. Walk out onto the grounds or through the castle and, if I find you, I might attack you." Snape was smiling just the slightest bit.

"Great," Harry said sarcastically.

"This is to your benefit, Mr. Potter. It is better to learn defense from an ally than from your enemies. Trust me Potter, surviving a surprise attack is almost always a painful experience. You will thank me when you are conditioned to be sensitive to your surroundings."

"I understand." And he did. But this was really going to suck. The idea of Snape stalking him through the halls didn't fill him with dread per se, but he wasn't very confident about it either. He didn't like his odds against Snape The Spy or Snape The Soldier. But if he had learned anything from his harrowing ordeal this summer, it was the importance of paying attention to his surroundings. If he had seen those Death Eaters before they had attacked on Privet Drive, none of this would have happened.

That thought made him frown though. He wouldn't go through any of that again for any amount of money or experience, but he had to admit, he was glad to be here instead of back with the Dursleys. At this point, he was almost certain he'd rather stay here with Snape than even stay with the Weasleys. He finally felt like he was accomplishing something; like he was part of something bigger and more important than himself.

"We are done for the day then. We leave in two hours for the meeting. And Potter?" Snape was giving him that calculating look again, but this time, Harry was too tired to worry about it.

"Yes sir?"

Severus briefly considered repeating the rules to Potter. If that boy did one more thing out of line, especially at a meeting of the Order where he himself would have to deal with the other members and their opinions, he might very well just take Potter over his knee and give those irritatingly nosy fools a reason to worry for Potter's health. But, Potter clearly knew and understood the rules already. What he lacked was the proper motivation to follow them. Severus was curious though, whether the lines he had assigned the boy had had the desired effect. Potter had seemed repentant and when asked what lessons he had learned, he had listed all the ones that he himself had meant for the boy to learn. Perhaps he would omit the standard lecture and see what Potter did when they got there.

The boy was still waiting for him to speak.

"Before we leave, I'll bring you more appropriate attire." It was the first thing that had popped into his head. There was no reason why Potter should be wearing those baggy clothes. It made movement more difficult and they could get snagged on something. That kind of thing could get Potter cursed if there were a sudden attack.

"Ok." Harry decided that he wasn't going to be embarrassed. He couldn't help that he had no better clothes. And frankly, if Snape had something better for him to wear, he'd welcome the opportunity to wear something that actually fit. He was unaware that his own mind was following a similar line of thought as Snape's, at that point. It had been his baggy clothing getting caught in that fence that had slowed him down when he had been caught. Maybe he would have gotten away, maybe he wouldn't have - but he didn't want to take chances again.