"Okay, okay. It--" Harry broke off, slapping a hand to his forehead. His face crumpled with pain.

"Harry?" Severus leaned toward him, reaching for his arm. "What is it? Your scar?"

"Forest," he gasped. "Blood . . . He . . . he's thirsty." When Harry pulled his own hand off his forehead, it came away slick with blood. Then his eyes rolled back in his sockets, and Severus barely caught the boy before he hit the floor.

Harry woke in the Infirmary. He knew where he was before he even opened his eyes, because of the smell and the feel of crisp hospital-issue sheets. When he did open his eyes, he shut them again very quickly. The light in the room jabbed into his head like a spike to the brain, even though it was the middle of the night, as far as he could tell from that split second of seeing.

God, his head.

"Harry," said a low voice he recognized at once. Snape. Bloody hell, could this get any worse? "I know you're awake."

He nodded a tiny bit, but even that made his head go all woozy, and he pressed his hands to his temples, to hold his brains still.

The professor murmured something softly and Harry could hear the whisper of something moving through the air and then a sput of it hitting flesh. A second later, he heard a cork come out, and then, still using a quiet voice, Snape said, "I have a potion for your pain. Let me help you sit up."

"K." Harry tried not to shy away when Snape slid an arm under his shoulders and drew him upwards, but it was too hard not to. He was already in pain, and he was always less able to hide his feelings when he was hurting. But Snape said nothing snarky about it, and when he had Harry sitting up far enough, he held a glass bottle to his lips.

"Drink," he said, and Harry could almost hear the smile that accompanied his next words, "and try not to dwell on the taste."

"Thanks," Harry said wryly, and was surprised by how rough his voice sounded. But he swallowed the potion as fast as he could, trying to let it touch his tongue as little as possible. Blech. There had to be a way to make potions taste better. In moments, however, he'd forgotten the taste as the stabbing pain faded from his head. He sighed in relief as Snape lowered him back to the pillows.

"Better?"

Harry opened his eyes to slits, experimentally, and was pleased to see that he could see, without agony. "Yeah. Er . . . yes. Thank you, sir."

"I am pleased to see your manners are as crisp as ever."

Harry wrinkled his nose, not sure if he was being mocked or not, but he was too tired to worry about it.

"I need you to tell me about your vision, Harry."

Giving the professor a quick look, Harry rubbed his hands over his face. "Couldn't you . . ." He coughed to clear his throat; it felt raw, as if from screaming, but he couldn't recall doing that. He couldn't remember much about his body, back in Snape's office, in fact, after the pain began. "Couldn't you have just gone in and looked while I was out?"

"I could have, if I never wanted you to wake up again." At Harry's dropped jaw, the professor gave him a mild -- for Snape -- sneer. "Legilimency is a very precise art, Mr. Potter, and the way you were thrashing around, with at least one other presence in your mind, if I had gone in as well . . . Let's just say the results could have been catastrophic."

"Oh."

"Indeed." The Professor leaned back a bit in his chair. "Tell me what you saw."

Harry nodded, and closed his eyes so he could picture it better. "There was a creature, not sure what it looked like, really, 'cause it was like I was seeing through its eyes or something. But I think we were, er, that it was in the Forest, here." He opened his eyes and looked at the window. "At Hogwarts, I mean. It was racing through the trees, and I could feel how hungry it was, how . . ." He swallowed. "How thirsty. It wanted blood, desperately." He glanced up at Snape. "Do you think it could be a vampire?"

Snape's eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. "I very much doubt it. Go on. What else did you see?"

"I was, I mean, it was chasing something, and I didn't know what, at first, and we . . . it was moving so fast, and then I could see what we, what it was chasing, and it smelled so good. Was a unicorn," he whispered, the feelings of the vision coming back to him and making him nauseous. He couldn't believe he had . . . No! That some creature had killed a unicorn. "It attacked the unicorn, and they fought, but then there was a blast of magic, a green light, I think, and seconds later, the creature sank his teeth in and . . . and drank." He licked his lips unconsciously, remembering.

"The creature drank the unicorn's blood?"

Staring at his hands in his lap, Harry nodded, feeling sick. "It was silvery and . . ." He stopped himself before he said how good it had tasted. How pure and delicious and . . . God, how disgusting was he?

"What do you think, Albus?" Snape asked, a little louder than he had been speaking to Harry.

As Harry brought his head up in surprise, the Headmaster moved from the shadows of the room into the circle of moonlight surrounding Harry's bed. Oh, no. Had he heard everything Harry had said? It seemed so, for he said, "It seems the report Hagrid received from the centaurs was quite correct."

"How many, then?"

"Firenze told him they had found four bodies thus far."

"Someone's killing all the unicorns?" Harry asked, ashamed to hear his voice rise an octave. The sheer glory of the animal as it galloped through the forest, its power and strength and ethereal beauty had affected Harry very strongly. That someone -- that the creature he had seen -- was killing such wondrous animals was horrifying.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said. He held his hands folded together in front of his chest, just above the ends of his long, white beard, and Harry could see how tensely they were twisted together.

"But why?"

"Can you not discern the reason?" Snape asked. "After what you saw?"

Harry shook his head, but then said, "You said it's not a vampire."

"No."

"But it needs the blood to live."

"What makes you say that?" the Headmaster asked Harry.

"I just . . . I don't know. But somehow, that's the feeling I got." His heart had beat harder, stronger, after he had drunk the blood of the unicorn. He had never felt more alive . . . Harry squeezed his eyes shut. No! That wasn't him.

There was a moment's pause before the Headmaster said, "I believe you are correct."

"It's Vol . . . I mean, it's You Know Who, isn't it? Who's killing them." Harry swallowed and looked at Snape. The professor's eyes held his, lending him the strength he desperately needed just now. He gestured to his scar. "'Cause I wouldn't have seen it otherwise. Right?"

"Yes." Snape made an abortive move with his right hand, as if he was going to put it on one of Harry's, as if he was going to try and comfort Harry. But he took his hand back quickly, with a glance at the Headmaster. "I am concerned, Harry, we are concerned you might have an unintentional connection to the Dark Lord and may have other visions like this."

Harry nodded, fiddling with the edge of the blanket covering his legs and wishing that he could be normal for just one minute. "Yeah, I figured."

"There are ways to counter such forays into your mind, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster said. "To stop the intrusion once it starts, or block the visions from getting in, in the first place."

"Really?" Harry felt the first tendrils of hope enter his heart. "How?"

Instead of answer, the Headmaster turned to Snape and gave him a long look.

Snape felt the weight of the older man's stare, but did not bend. He glared back. "Absolutely not. He is too young. His mind is not ready for that."

The Headmaster merely smiled. Even in the dimness of the Infirmary, Harry could have sworn he saw a sparkle in the old Wizard's eyes. "Did you not tell me previously that you believe he is a natural Occlumens? If so, I believe he just needs focus, and practice."

Snape's glare hardened into something more terrifying to behold, and Harry was very glad the look was not aimed at him. "Being able to cast me out of his mind is one thing. But to cast out the Dark Lord? It's too much. I will not jeopardize Harry's sanity like that."

"It's Harry now, is it?" the Headmaster asked, beaming at Snape. He waved one of his hands negligently. "He will need to know how to do it sooner or later, or I predict many more trips into Poppy's domain. And as much as I'm sure the boy enjoys her hospitality . . ."

Snape pressed his face into his hands and was silent for several long moments. Harry hated being talked about like he wasn't in the room, but his aunt and uncle had done so all the time, so he was well used to the feeling, and he didn't interrupt.

"Damn you, Albus," Snape muttered so softly that Harry was pretty sure no one was meant to hear. Then his head came up and he gave Harry a measuring look. Harry frowned back a little, confused, and not sure what Snape was trying to figure out. He just hoped whatever it was, he was doing it right. Then, to Harry's amazement, Snape mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," before he turned back to the Headmaster. Snape had apologized? To him? The last time, he had understood why, at least. This time . . . Harry's frown deepened as he gave his attention back to Professor Dumbledore, too.

"Very well, Headmaster," Snape said, more formally than he'd spoken before. His face was back in the blank mask that Harry knew so well, and for some reason, that alone was enough to make the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rise. "I will teach him. But I want a concession from you, as well."

The Headmaster's smile was absolutely radiant. "I will see what I can do, Severus. What is it you require?"

"If I am to teach the boy Occlumency, at his age, then I will need to have access to him year round. The Art is too delicate to leave to such an otherwise constrained schedule. That means we will work during holidays, too, both winter and summer, and I will not call upon him in that Muggle hovel. It is an inappropriate learning environment."

Harry held his breath. Not go to the Dursleys during the summer?? Was it possible for him to get that lucky?

The Headmaster was nodding before Snape even finished. "Winter holidays, of course you may work together. I imagine Harry, here," and Harry jumped, startled, at hearing his given name come from the Headmaster's mouth, "will be staying in Hogwarts then, regardless."

"Naturally," Snape said, in almost a snarl. Harry wondered why. Snape knew, at least somewhat, why Harry didn't want to go to the Dursleys. Did the Headmaster know, too?

"But the summer holidays . . . I'm afraid that is out of the question."

"Unacceptable."

"Severus, you know the Board of Governors does not allow any student to remain in Hogwarts over the summer holidays."

Snape swung around on his chair and pinned the Headmaster with the Look that made his students quail. The Headmaster did not seem ruffled. "Not even Harry Potter? Not even if you informed the Governors that his life will be in danger if he returns to their loving care?" The amount of sarcasm dripping from the Potion Master's mouth was nothing short of awe inspiring.

Harry watched the two of them battle it out -- over him! -- for another few minutes, hearing various things like 'blood wards' and 'statutes' and 'continuity of instruction' before the Headmaster sharply interrupted Snape mid-sentence, saying, "We will discuss this more at another time, Severus. I believe Mr. Potter needs his sleep more than he needs to hear our disagreements."

Snape drew himself up, obviously not used to people interrupting him -- recalling his one experience at doing so filled Harry with a fair amount of fear -- and nodded once, a mere jerk of the head. "As you say, sir." He rose from his chair and turned to Harry. "My apologies, Mr. Potter, for keeping you from your rest. Good night."

He turned in a swirl of robes and left the Infirmary in several long strides. The door swung shut behind him with a soft sound, leaving the room in silence. Harry stared after the professor, wondering if he had just been abandoned to the metaphorical wolves. No. Snape wouldn't do that to him. Probably.

The Headmaster caught his stare and smiled benevolently. "I'm sure we'll work it out, Mister Potter," he said, not unkindly. "Professor Snape will come around. We don't want you to have a vision while you're up on your broom, for instance, do we?"

Harry barely kept from rolling his eyes. He wasn't a baby, for pity's sake. "No, sir. Of course not."

"No, of course not," Dumbledore repeated and nodded, seemingly to himself. "I'll let you get your rest now, Mr. Potter. Sleep well."

Before the Headmaster could reach the doors, however, Harry called out to him, "What about the unicorns, sir?"

Dumbledore cocked his head a bit as he looked back at Harry. "What about them, child?"

"Who's going to protect them, you know, from You Know Who? What if he tries to kill another one?"

"Don't you worry about that," the Headmaster said, smiling his kindly smile. "Just get some rest. Everything will be just fine in the morning." With that, he was gone, and Harry was absolutely furious, at having been condescended to. Again.

----

The next day, after he was released from the Infirmary, he sought out Millie and Teddy as soon as he could. He told them about the weird vision he'd had, and about other unicorns being killed in the forest, which had been confirmed by Hagrid. And he told them how he was almost certain that the creature killing the unicorns was going to try to steal whatever it was that the cerberus was guarding. Not immediately, but soon. Though he didn't say so to his friends, he had gotten a strong sense about the creature's plan, while he had been watching through the creature's eyes.

"So . . ." Teddy gazed at him through narrowed eyes. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I think we have to find out what it's guarding and figure out why You Know Who wants it. I'll wager it has something to do with keeping him alive."

"I don't know, Harry," Millie said. "I don't really like dogs all that much."

Harry smiled grimly. "Hopefully it won't come to us having to go in that room. But I think, if we can figure out what he wants with it--"

"Harry," Teddy interrupted. "Why don't you just tell Professor Snape about this?"

Harry gaped at him. "Tell the professor?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah. I mean, if he's helping to guard whatever-it-is, he'd want to know that creature's going to try and steal it, right?"

"I . . ." Harry frowned. Tell a teacher? Tell Snape? "I don't know, Teddy." What if they told him and Snape didn't care? What if he laughed at Harry's fears, or didn't listen, or worst of all, just blew off his concerns as those of a stupid, attention-seeking brat? What if he ignored Harry, like practically every other adult he had ever met had done? Hell, instead of ignoring him, he might even give Harry detention for knowing about the cerberus at all, since the third floor corridor was supposed to be forbidden.

"What don't you know, Harry?" Teddy asked softly. "I mean, this seems like the sort of thing we ought to warn him about. After all, we can't be expected to do anything about it; we're just first years." He paused, then, "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" Harry said. "I'm not. But . . . well, you can't trust them."

"Them?"

"You know, teachers. Professors. Upperclassmen." Harry shook his head. "Nobody."

Teddy held his gaze for a long time, then said, "Is that a Muggle thing?"

Harry frowned, not understanding, and Millie, who had been looking back and forth between the two of them, like at a tennis match, now she spoke up. "It isn't, is it, Harry? Not just Muggles. You really don't trust anyone."

He shrugged, still a bit confused. "I trust you guys. And Hermione."

Millie gave him a sly smile. "That's 'cause we're naturally trustworthy. Well, maybe not that Gryffindor, 'cause of how she cursed your Frogs--"

"She didn't!"

Millie laughed. "I was just kidding, Harry. But really, I wouldn't say we could go to any teacher, like not McGonagall or the Headmaster, obviously, but we can trust our Head of House . . . I mean, once he started treating you decent, he's been okay." Then suddenly, she frowned. "But what do you mean by 'upperclassmen'? Did that worm Gaius bother you again?"

Harry winced. He'd meant to tell them before, but hadn't gotten around to it . . . no, if he was honest with himself, he'd admit he hadn't wanted to tell them; he'd been embarrassed at getting himself cornered by the git so easily.

"He did!" Millie exclaimed. "Damnit, Harry, why didn't you say anything?"

Harry shrugged and looked away, but when Teddy said, "C'mon, you can tell us," he admitted, "'Cause I was stupid," he mumbled. "And I didn't want you to know."

"Well, that's the part that's stupid," Millie told him. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Millicent!"

"Oh, shut it, Nott. You know it's bullshit, too."

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Of course it is, but your vulgarity is uncalled for."

"Prude," Millie muttered. "So, spill, Harry. What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

Harry snorted. "That's what Snape asked."

"You told Snape!? How--"

Teddy interrupted Millie mid-rant. "Good for you, Harry. That must've been tough."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, but I had to. We made a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Millie asked, but Teddy gave her a pointed look.

"We're getting a bit off track, Bullstrode."

"Oh, yeah. Right. So when was this, with Gaius?"

"Saturday night." Harry looked down at his hands, unable to deal with his friends' expressions. He knew he'd been an idiot to let himself be trapped alone. "He followed me into the toilet."

"Was anyone else in there?" Millie asked.

Harry shook his head. "No . . . he just followed me in, and when I was washing up after, he came up behind me at the sinks." He swallowed, feeling his hands shake and his face get hot. Stupid, he'd been so stupid.

"What did he do?" Teddy asked, real soft, like he thought Harry was going to cry or something. But he wasn't. He hadn't, in years.

"Just grabbed me," he said, real quick, to get it over with. "My arms. And he pressed up against me. I shoulda just shoved him or something, or told him to leave me alone. But then he just said some stuff and let me go." He shrugged again. "So, it wasn't any big deal anyway."

Millie and Teddy exchanged a look. Harry could see it out of the corner of his eye. "Look, you guys, he didn't do anything. It's not that big a deal."

"Okay, Harry," Teddy said, too quickly for Harry not to know he was just placating him. "But you told the professor all this?"

"Yeah. Well, most of it." Sort of. Except he'd not said who it was before the vision knocked him out. Stupid visions.

"Okay, that's good." Teddy glanced at Millie again. "So, will you tell Professor Snape about the whatever-it-is being in danger of larceny, or do you want me to?"

Harry stared at his friend. Teddy seemed perfectly serious. But if anyone was going to take the fall for this with the professor, Harry would not let it be one of his friends. He sighed. "I'll tell him."

Teddy smiled. "Excellent. Now, we still have an hour before lunch. I say we start our Transfiguration essay before it gets too noisy out here."

And so they did, with Harry trying to put all his various worries out of his mind. He hadn't told his friends about the training he might have with Snape, or the mess about his summer holidays, since none of that was definite anyway. But he was glad he'd told them about Gaius. That was one less secret he had to hold by himself.