Harry leaned against the banister overlooking the entrance hall. In the crowd of people saying good bye and wishing each other a happy Christmas he could discern a head with long bright orange hair. It was Ginny. Harry smiled sadly to himself. It was the first Christmas since Voldemort's downfall. People happily took farewell before going home to spend the holidays with their families.

Christmas had always been a time when Harry felt a bit down. Everything would have been so different if his parents had still been alive. He closed his eyes and imagined his mother, hugging him by the Christmas tree while he opened a present. She wore the same warm and beautiful smile as in all the pictures Harry had seen. The three of them sat together at the dinner table eating, talking and laughing.

Harry shook his head and snapped back into reality. This was precisely what he didn't like about Christmas. Self pity wouldn't bring his parents back to life. He had decided not to dwell too much on the past anymore and try to live in the present.

"Hey Harry!" A shout came from somewhere in the crowds. It was Ron.

Harry slowly descended the stairs. This was the moment to say good bye to his friends and wish them a happy Christmas.

"Are you sure you haven't changed your mind?" Ron said in a slightly pleading tone of voice.

"Harry already made it clear that he's not coming to the Burrow this year Ron. He needs a little time to himself." A voice said. It was sweet but at the same time resolute. Ginny had found her way to them through the crowd. She went to stand next to Harry.

"I promise its okay Ron. I won't even have time to think about Christmas for all the school work. I have at least ten potions to brew and somehow I have to come up with antidotes for each and every one of them."

Harry let out and audible sigh. How was he really going to manage all that? He had no idea. He only knew that he soon had to come up with one if he truly was planning on being accepted for the auror program next year.

"Yeah mate, good luck. I can imagine it won't be as easy as when you still had the Prince's..." Ron trailed off. He finished the sentence uncertainly. "I mean...his book."

Harry looked down at the ground. He hade gone almost an entire day without thinking about Snape. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand lightly. He met her eyes for a short second and knew that she understood him. He turned his attention back to Ron.

"Yeah, it will definitely be a lot trickier without it."

"Well, I guess we'll see you after Christmas then." Ron said.

"At least you won't be plagued by Celestina Warbeck."

Ginny made a perfect imitation of Celeatina's A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love.  Everybody burst out laughing. Harry smiled his first genuine smile since ages.

"See you all soon!" Harry waved goodbye to Ron, George and Hermione. Ginny hugged him fiercely and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. She let go of his hand and smiled up at him with glistening eyes.

"Good bye Harry!" She said, and with that she was gone.

Harry lingered for a while to watch his friends go. He felt the familiar ache of loneliness as he once again was left to spend his Christmas holydays in the empty, deserted castle. He had to remind himself that he had actually made that choice.

The last people to leave the castle were a group of Slytherins. As Harry himself, they didn't seem all too affected by the cheery holiday spirit. Harry knew why. They had also lost people close to them in the war against Voldemort. The only thing that made them differ from Harry was that their close ones had died fighting for the wrong cause. He could not help but feeling sorry for them.

Harry turned and slowly started to walk toward the Gryffindor tower. His thoughts drifted back to Snape. To talk about Snape had become sort of a taboo. Since the downfall of Voldemort it seemed Snape had done everything to avoid confrontation with Harry. He was rarely seen in the castle. Harry saw him at meal times every now and then. He suspected he spent a lot of his time in the dungeons or somewhere outside of Hogwarts. Sometimes Harry thought he sensed Snape eying him from a far distance, but the moment he turned to look Snape determinedly looked away.

Harry sighed heavily to himself. He was still unsure of how he felt about Snape. He was the man who had made every effort to make every single day of Harry's life at Hogwarts as miserable as possible. He was also the man who had saved Harry's life more times than he could recall. He had been on Harry's side and had stood up against Voldemort until the very end, and without his help Harry knew for sure that victory would never have been possible. He also knew that he sooner or later had to confront the man. There were still so much that remained to be explained. In addition to that, Snape was the only one who could tell Harry about Lily, but Harry didn't know if he ever would dare to bring that topic up. Obviously, after all these years he still hadn't gotten over her. Harry suspected that Snape would kill him with one murderous glare if he ever as much as dared to mention her name. The same went for the memories he had seen in Dumbledore's pensive, only minutes before he realised what had to be done in order to vanquish Lord Voldemort for good. Harry shuddered at the thought. How had Snape really planned to hand over that piece of information? He doubted he would have shown all those memories to Harry, had he been able to give them under different circumstances.

He had already arrived at the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Felix Felicis." Harry said and the portrait swung open obediently.

He sank down in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace where he, Ron and Hermione had spent so much time together. He took a slow deep breath in an attempt to relax his mind a little. Lately all he did when he wasn't busy with school work was brooding. Tomorrow he was going to start with the tedious potions essays and maybe even brew a few potions, if he somehow managed to get that far. Dozens of ingredients would have to be sorted and prepared properly, and that in it self could take an hour or more. He groaned as he thought about spending another day in the chilly, dimly lit dungeons. There was just something ominous about the place. Plus it would constantly remind him of a certain potions master, dressed in a madly billowing black, bat-like cloak. Still it would be good to spend some time alone, Harry told himself. He would devote all his attention to potions.

He gazed into the crackling fire. He imagined the flames taking the shape of a roaring lion. The lion turned into a magnificent hippogriff, then into a serpent, not much unlike the symbol of the Slytherin house. Harry let himself drift to sleep.

Outside a storm was raging. Rain splattered loudly against the common room window, but Harry remained fast asleep. The trees of the forbidden forest were swaying heavily in the dark. From the edge of the forest a black figure emerged. He was striding purposefully over the lawn. He had a black cloak pulled tightly around him. Well at the main entrance of the castle he lowered his hood. He pulled a long strand of soaked black hair from his face. Severus Snape looked around cautiously before entering the castle.

Harry awoke the next morning to a blinding sunlight. Yawning he sat up and stretched his arms and legs. He stood up and went to look out the window. While he had been sleeping the ground had gotten a light cover of snow, making it look a little more like Christmas. The only sign of life were three owls circling gracefully above the forest.

Harry thought of Ron, Ginny and Hermione together at the Burrow. Right now they were probably having Mrs Wesley's delicious pancakes with jam and whipped cream, or playing a game of exploding snap, all thoughts of Voldemort gone. Like the war had never taken place. He couldn't understand how his friends managed to suppress the truth of what had happened. So many people had paid the price with their lives. Was he the only one having problems processing?

Harry dressed and then reluctantly shuffled off toward the dungeons. The breakfast table in the great hall was probably set with all kinds of Christmas delicacies, but he had no desire for food what so ever.

The sunlight seeped in through the windows, but as he was going to spend the entire day in the dungeons he wouldn't be able to enjoy any of it. Harry took an intentional detour as to stay on ground level for as long as possible. As he turned a corner he found himself standing in front of a familiar statue. He felt a sudden stinging sensation in his heart as he looked up at the stone gargoyle. Once it had been guarding the entrance of Dumbledore's office. He tried with all his might not to think of how disappointed he was in the former headmaster. Dumbledore had proved to be an entirely different person. Harry felt like he hadn't known him at all. At the same time he missed him immensely. Sorrow welled up inside him.

"For the greater good" Harry said as he bitterly looked at the statue. "All the manipulating and the people you let down. I wish that you would have told us more."

Harry almost expected the statue to reply, but it remained firmly quiet. With a last glance at the statue he turned to head for the dungeons.

Harry's footsteps echoed loudly in the empty corridors. The light began to fade and the air became chillier the closer he got. He stopped abruptly when he realised that he had almost passed the door to the potions classroom. He walked up to the door and came to a halt in front of it. This room had once been Snape's classroom. Memories of tormenting and sardonic comments thrown at him surfaced. He thought about the horrific occlumency lessons he had had with Snape. The man had seen so many of the embarrassments Harry had been subjected too in his life. He probably knew more about Harry than anyone in the castle. Yet he had kept harbouring contempt for him, determinedly as ever.

He will penetrate you mind with absurd ease Potter! Snape's menacing words rang in his head. They had certainly never done anything to evoke progress. If anything it had been the other way around. He suddenly remembered something else that Snape had said. Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories, they stand no chance against his powers. A dawning realisation struck him. Snape had, however intentionally or unintentionally been talking about himself. Strangely amongst all the feelings Harry harboured for Snape were also pity and more recently, a growing feeling of respect.

Harry took a deep breath and opened the heavy wooden door. He almost expected to see Snape there; raving about how late Harry was and how many points it would cost Gryffindor if he would be stupid enough to make the same mistake again. Harry left the door slightly ajar in hopes of feeling a little less imprisoned in the poorly lit, chilly classroom.

He began to unload his heavy school bag. Sighing he threw the ingredients and books unceremoniously on the desk in front of him. The first potion he had been assigned to make was as Harry suspected, a rather complicated one. He skimmed through the instructions. It was called Sharnogs draught and had no less than 29 ingredients! He had no idea of what it was good for. He let his head fall against the desk with a thud. As he feared, he would be sitting in the dungeons in this exact position until he rotted.

He thought to himself. Harry Potter, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord can't even make a simple newt-level potion. The simplicity of the potion could however be debated. He flipped through his copy of Advanced Potion Making and reluctantly began to chop the newt tails.

One hour later and Harry was convinced that he would never become an Auror. It was hopeless. By now his potion should have turned a shade of deep red, but all he got from his cauldron were yellow steams. Harry groaned out loud. What would Slughorn think? His favourite potions student is suddenly incapable of making even the simplest of potions. He felt ashamed. In his bag remained still one book. Harry took out yet another copy of Advanced Potion Making. He hadn't told anyone, but he had managed to save the Half-blood Prince's old book from the flames in the room of requirement. Snape's book, he had to remind himself again. He didn't know why he had done it.

Harry reached out a hand to open the book, but stopped in mid air. He couldn't bring himself to turn as much as a page. He still couldn't believe that Snape had been the reason for his new found talents in potions. Snape, of all people! With resentment he shoved the book back in his school bag. He had no right to keep that book. It was time to return it to its rightful owner. The only question was how. Harry pondered. He was so distracted that he didn't take any notice of the black-robed figure, silently watching him through the crack of the door.

Once again Harry heaved a sigh and continued with his potion, trying to figure out where he went wrong, but it was to no avail.

"This is worse than disaster!" Harry's exasperated voice echoed loudly in the stone walled room.

The black-robed figure sneered smugly and then left silently.

After a whole day in the dungeons Harry felt exhausted. He heard his stomach growl and remembered that he hadn't even eaten today. Outside the sun had already started to set. Harry grabbed with him a couple of sandwiches from the kitchen before heading back to the Gryffindor tower. He decided that he would turn in early tonight.

Harry put the sandwiches on his bedside table and threw himself on the soft bed. Hungrily he started to eat on a sandwich. Suddenly he remembered that tomorrow was Christmas Eve. He had been so busy with potions that he had almost completely forgotten about it. Harry didn't know exactly what he was going to do, but one thing he definitely not would do was to spend the day in the dungeons! Maybe for a change he could read a book that he actually wanted to read. He remembered a book that Ron had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago; Quidditch through ages. With one hand he started to dig for the book in his large trunk. In the other hand he held the half eaten sandwich.

It was almost impossible to find anything in there. He pulled up the first book he felt. It was the photo album of his parents that Hagrid once had given him. He started to flip the pages. Even though he had seen the photos an endless number of times, he always felt the same warm emotions. His spirits rose, only to sink as quickly. Suddenly Harry knew what to do on Christmas Eve. He would go to visit his parent's graves. Only once had he been on the grave yard before, but that time he had had Hermione with him. This time he would have his parents entirely to himself.

Harry put the photo album aside and continued rummaging. His fingers closed around another hard object. He pulled it out. Gasping he looked at the small wooden box. He had almost forgotten! From inside the wooden box he carefully took out a vial, filled with memories. He eyed the shimmering content. This was yet another thing belonging to Snape that Harry didn't want to give up. It was the best memories of his mother that anyone had ever given him. Although he knew that Snape never would have given them, hadn't it been absolutely necessary to defeat Voldemort.

Harry knew that however badly he desired those memories; he had no right to keep them. First of all, they belonged to Snape, and second of all, the memories wouldn't do anything to help him stay in the present. He didn't want to make the same mistake as Snape had. He put the photo album and the vial aside. He had come up with a plan! Now all he needed was someone to help him put it in motion, but he would deal with that in the morning.

Harry ate the last of his sandwich and started to get ready for bed. It was almost completely dark outside by now. If it wouldn't have been for the snow, lighting up the ground a bit pitch black. Harry was just about to lie down on his bed when he noticed something moving outside. A familiar black robed figure walked briskly toward the forbidden forest. It was Snape, Harry was almost sure of it. Where could he be going at this hour? Harry mused. Maybe his suspicions about Snape spending a lot of his time somewhere outside of Hogwarts were right. Harry yawned and decided to leave Snap's nightly adventures for another day.

--------

Harry awoke the next morning in a slightly better mood. He smiled as he noticed the small pile of Christmas gifts at the foot of his bed. For Harry every Christmas felt like the first one in his life. He would never get used to getting presents. The most the Dursleys had ever given him was an old stinking pair of Dudley's socks. Talk about generosity. He got up and dressed quickly. Deciding he would save the presents until later he headed for breakfast. He was eager to put his plan in motion.

As he entered the great hall he was instantly greeted with happy Christmas wishes. As usual the hall was over decorated. Harry could count to at least eleven Christmas trees.

"Merry Christmas Mr Potter!" McGonagall said smiling at him. Although it was just a few words, it was strange hearing her speak without a hint of her usual sternness. She sat together with the other teachers at a long table. The table was set with more delicacies than usual if possible and it was only breakfast. Luckily enough Hermione wasn't here to see this. The poor house elves had probably worked better part of the night.

"Merry Christmas professor" Harry had barely finished the words before he heard someone else call his name.

"Harry m'boy!" Slughorn boomed. "Come have a seat here next to me!"

Slughorn had gotten up from his seat to greet Harry. His bulging belly threatened to split the seams of his dark green velvet suit at any moment. Munching fervently on a cookie, Slughorn reminded Harry of a walrus in heaven. Great, Harry thought as he took the seat next to Slughorn. This was the perfect opportunity for Slughorn to rave about Harry's potions skills or worse, mention Harry's grand achievements in the war. That was the last thing he wanted to discuss, but it looked like he didn't have a choice. He had hardly sat down before Slughorn started to offer him all kinds of cookies.

"These gingerbread biscuits are excellent! Care to try some Harry?" Slughorn said with his mouth full.

"No thanks." Harry said and started to butter himself a sandwich.

"How's your potion brewing coming? Some of them, I have to admit are rather tricky."

Harry stared down at his plate, trying to come up with something good to say. He had barely opened his mouth to reply when Slughorn happily continued.

"But what am I saying? For a natural as you, it should be a piece of cake!" He patted Harry on the shoulder as he spoke.

Harry felt his cheeks blush. He offered Slughorn a vague smile.

"Yeah." was the only thing he managed to say.

Suddenly he had an idea. He took out a carefully wrapped package from his bag.

"Professor, I was wondering, since it is Christmas and all, if maybe I could ask you a small favour?"

"Ask away my dear boy! Anything for the saviour of the wizarding world!" Slughorn beamed.

Harry cringed and tried to hide a grimace. He looked around to make sure no one would overhear them. Everybody seemed too busy with their breakfast to hear anything, but just to be sure he cast a silent muffliato, a dead useful spell when you didn't want to be overheard. Conveniently he had learned it from no one less than Snape. Harry continued.

"Could you deliver this to Professor Snape sometime later today?"

"Of course! But why can't you do it yourself?" Slughorn asked.

"I don't want him to know who it is from" Harry lied. Snape would know exactly from who it was.

"I see. All right."

Harry finished his sandwich quickly and stood up to leave.

"I've got to get back to my potion." Harry lied again, anxious to escape the embarrassing topics Slughorn wanted to discuss. He was also eager to get back to the dormitory to see what Ron and Hermione had gotten him for Christmas.

"See you around Harry!" Slughorn said and continued to munch on his biscuit.

"Thanks! See you!"

Harry hurried away. As he burst out of the great hall he barely managed to avoid bumping into someone who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry-" Harry began, but stopped in mid sentence when he looked up and was met by the black, cold eyes of Severus Snape.

"Sir." he finished his sentence.

For a moment Snape had looked mildly surprised by the unexpected encounter, but his eyes had quickly turned cold as ever.

"It's inadvisable to run around with one's eyes closed, especially in times like this Potter." Snape spoke in a low warning voice. He paused a moment, offering Harry one of his trademark sneers.

"But then again..." Snape continued with a haughty expression. "Since when has the golden boy ever cared to be vigilant, when there's always someone else to pay the consequences of his insufferable arrogances."

"I said I was sorry" Harry spoke through gritted teeth. "And I'm not careless!" he added defiantly.

"And I'm Santa Clause Potter." Snape said with cold indifference, and with a swish of his robes he strode away.

Boiling with anger Harry watched Snape go. Wouldn't the man ever give him a rest?! He would have thought that after all that had happened in the last year, Snape would relent his tormenting at least a little bit. Obviously that was far from the case. Harry almost started to have second thoughts about returning the Advanced Potion Making book to Snape. Angrily he stalked back to the Gryffindor tower. The good mood he had been in earlier had vanished completely. He didn't even feel like opening his presents anymore.

In a small room laid an unconscious woman. Her cheek pressed against the cold, hard stone floor. Blood trickled slowly down her temple, soaking her golden blond locks. Her ghostly pale skin was illuminated by the faint green light seeping in from the corridor. She was encircled by at least a dozen people, watching her in silent anticipation. Ghost-like masks concealed their identities. The only sound that could be heard was the rustle of their black robes.

"Good evening my faithful servants!"

The death eaters heads snapped up when they heard the hissing voice they recognised so well. The Dark Lord had entered the room.

"And a last good evening to those of you, whose services I regrettably won't be requiring anymore. That's to say, those who I don't consider worthy of serving me, traitors in other words." A high pitched laughter followed.

Some of the death eaters nervously shifted position, but the eerie silence lingered.

"Tonight is a perfect opportunity for those of you, who doubt my greatness and are on the verge of betrayal, to think better of it and learn how you'll be greatly rewarded." Voldemort eyed the death eaters one by one, looking for the slightest sign of fear.

"I am after all, a merciful lord" he drawled silkily.

"As you all know, tonight is a very special night. It will always be remembered as the night when the second greatest wizard of all time was defeated. I am speaking of course, of the murder of Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort's snake like eyes glowed with triumph.

"Now nothing stands between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter!" Voldemort roared and the death eaters all cheered.

There was a silent moan. All eyes turned in the direction of the blond woman on the floor.

"Well, well..." Voldemort said softly. "Welcome to join the celebration!" He bent down and traced a long, bony finger along her jaw. He tilted her head slightly. The woman started to tremble and let out a stifled sob.

Voldemort stood up slowly and walked up to one of the death eaters.

"Take of you mask and step forward" he commanded.

Everybody turned to look as the pale face of Severus Snape was revealed. His expression was unfathomable. The woman on the floor was the first to speak.

"Severus!" she said in a mere whisper. Her ocean blue eyes tried to reach his, but they remained firmly glued to the floor.

"This death eater has earned to be titled as my most loyal, faithful servant. He will be honoured above you all." Voldemort made a vivid hand gesture toward Snape.

"This is how I shall reward you Severus. She is yours to finish."

"Severus, please!" cried the frightened woman. "Don't you remember me? We used to be in the same house!"

Snape gave no sign of recognition. His eyes were still glued to the floor. He looked deathly pale and his face was glazed with sweat.

"My Lord..." Snape said finally. "I cannot thank you enough. This is a real honour." Voldemort took no notice of the indifference he spoke with.

Snape took one step closer to the woman and raised his wand with a slight tremble.

"Look at me." the woman pleaded.

Their eyes met for a short second, precisely before he had uttered the two words.

"Avada Kedavra!" Lifeless blue eyes now stared back. Snape felt sick. He had to get a way fast. He had to throw up.

----

The scene shifted.

The bright blue eyes of Dumbledore looked pleadingly at Snape.

Don't make me do this Albus, please don't! Snape screamed inside his mind while giving Dumbledore a look of pure hatred. No I won't, I won't. I will never!

"Severus Please." A gentle voice sounded. Then a jet of green light shot from his wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. The lifeless body flew from the astronomy tower.

Nooooo!!! Snape felt like the whole world was falling apart. What remained of his life shattered into a million pieces. He had just killed the only person in this world who meant something to him.

----

The scene shifted again.

Harry Potter lay panting on the ground, his face suffused with hatred.

"Kill me then, kill me like you killed him you coward!"

"DON'T- call me a coward!" Snape felt pain beyond belief. He was about to break apart. He heard a banging sound in his head and he felt like he would go mad any second. The banging sound just continued.

----

Snape woke with a start. Gasping he drew his wand and bolted up from the armchair he had fallen asleep in. It took him a few seconds to realise that he had only been dreaming. With a sigh of resignation he let himself fall back in the chair. He leaned his forehead against his hand. His forehead was drenched in sweat and he felt a dull headache coming. He started to massage his temples.

"Not again!" Snape moaned out loud.

Not even a night went by without him wakening of painful nightmares. He couldn't even remember the last time he got a decent nights sleep. He startled when he heard the banging sound again. Was he really going mad this time? Snape thought to himself just before he realised that the banging sound actually was someone at his door.

Who had this time decided to bother him? Snape felt irritation rise inside of him. This better be something very important. He rose from the armchair and went to open the door.

"Severus! What took you so long?" Slughorn said with a curious voice. Snape felt the irritation rise even more.

"What do you want Horace?" he said with his usual coldness.

"I've got something for you." Slughorn held out a wrapped package. Snape eyed him questioningly.

"Sorry my friend! I was told to deliver this to you without revealing the identity of the sender." Slughorn said and blinked at him with one eye.

Snape snorted as he took the package. He glared at it suspiciously.

"I trust that was all?" Snape said without waiting for an answer. "Good night Horace."

"Good night Severus!" Slughorn said, a little taken aback by being dismissed so suddenly.

Snape shut the door. He sat down at his desk to open the package. He took out his wand to check that the package didn't hold any dangerous curses. For all he knew it could have been sent to him by a death eater, determined to seek revenge for the Dark Lord.

The package didn't seem to hold any curses, which made Snape even more suspicious. If this wasn't sent to him by a death eater, who was it from? He was definitely not the kind to exchange Christmas gifts, nor would he ever be, but surely everyone knew that! If this was some sort of Christmas gift, he would make sure that the poor idiot who sent it would be wise enough to never do it again.

The last of the paper came of to reveal a book, more specifically a copy of Advanced Potion Making. Was this some sort of a joke? Who on earth would be stupid enough to find it amusing to send him instructions in his own area of expertise?

Snape opened the book to look for hidden messages and gasped as he realised which book it was. It was his old copy of Advanced Potion Making! He hadn't seen it in ages. Eagerly he started to turn the pages.

He had known from the very beginning that Potter somehow had managed to get hold of his book. He had known it since Slughorn first had started to rave about how talented the insufferable brat was! Why on earth had Potter decided to return this? It would mean giving up his only key to success in potions. It would mean failing his NEWTs. Snape smiled smugly to himself at the thought. The only reason he hadn't confiscated the book was because the thick-headed idiot actually had managed to learn something. He had actually been impressed by the intensity of the sectumsempra Potter had fired at Malfoy. Not that he would ever admit that to him.

He continued to turn the pages, lost in thought. He knew Potter well enough to be sure that he hadn't sent this without an ulterior motive. Annoyed he started to look for messages. It didn't take long before something fell from the book. Snape picked up what appeared to be a picture of a woman. He let go of the picture as though it had burned him when he realised who she was. He looked at the red haired woman. She had green almond-shaped eyes and was waving cheerfully at him. He felt a knife cutting through his heart and his eyes started to burn.

Snape rose from the chair and started to pace in front of the desk, while pulling at his greasy, black hair. He stopped and supported himself with both hands on his over filled desk. The woman he had disappointed so badly smiled up at him.

"I sorry Lily. I know I failed-" he faltered. "I failed you, I failed everyone!" His breathing ragged he kept looking at the beautiful smiling woman.

Suddenly he felt a surge of rage. With one swift motion he swiped down every object on his desk. He let out a scream of pain as he pointed his wand at nothing in particular. Jars of potions ingredients shattered with an ear ringing sound. Glass splinter and paper flew everywhere. The picture of Lily Potter landed upside down on the floor.

Snape stalked out of the dungeons without bothering to clean up after himself. He didn't notice that on the backside of the picture something was actually scribbled.

Harry wrapped his red and golden scarf tightly around his throat and shot a quick look out the common room window. It was hard to discern much of anything in the heavy darkness. Snowflakes fell silently to the ground. Harry shuddered slightly. It looked very cold outside, but he had made up his mind. Christmas Eve was after all a time you spent with those closest to your heart, Harry thought sadly. He knew that nothing could change the fact that his parents long since had passed away, but still the mere thought of spending Christmas Eve a little closer to them made him feel warm inside. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and headed for the graveyard.

Outside it was just as cold as Harry had imagined. Small puffs of white smoke came with each breath and the glistening snow crunched loudly under his feet. He quickened his pace in an effort to get a little warmer. He passed the whomping willow, which was shaking its branches in an attempt to get rid of the snow.

Harry stopped to think for a while when he came to the edge of the forbidden forest. How wise would it be to wander around alone in the dark forest this time of hour, or any time of hour for that matter? The experiences he had from the forest weren’t exactly pleasant. He thought about Snape’s warning words at their unexpected encounter earlier today. Exactly as Snape had predicted, he would wander blindly amongst the lurking dangers out there. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be a little extra careful.

He pulled the invisibility cloak tightly around him and checked that the wand was easily accessible in his pocket. A distant howl ripped him from his thoughts. Harry had no idea what it was, he could only imagine. The last time he had encountered a howling creature in the forest, it had been a full-grown, bloodthirsty werewolf. Harry decided to get a move on.

A short while later he was deep enough in the forest to apparate, at least he thought so. He took a deep breath and tried to envision the graveyard where his parents lay buried. Destination, determination, deliberation, he thought while mustering all of his concentration and spun around.

High iron gates were the first thing Harry saw when he opened his eyes. He looked around cautiously to make sure that he was alone. Slowly he started to walk toward the rusty gates. The graveyard seemed to be desolate. Not a single lit candle could be spotted. Harry passed big statues, which he supposed once must have looked like angels. Throughout the years they had been deformed into demon-like creatures. A small shiver went up Harry’s spine. Graveyards weren’t exactly something he associated with peaceful spirits. He almost expected Voldemort’s ghostly-white face to appear from behind one of the statues. He had to remind himself over and over again that Voldemort was gone forever, but since the wizard had a tendency to be immortal it wouldn’t be too surprising if he actually showed up.

Harry passed gravestone after gravestone, until he got to what he thought had to be his parent’s grave. He walked up to one of the gravestones and kneeled in front of it. It was hard to decipher what was written beneath the layers of snow. He reached out a hand and brushed out a name. A small smile appeared on Harry’s face when he read the name Lily Potter.

“Hi mum!” he said quietly while brushing away the last of the snow.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come here more often.” Harry sat in silence for a while. It felt like he hade come here to say something, although he didn’t really know what.

“You know, despite of being an orphan and haunted by an evil dark lord half of my life, I haven’t been unhappy. I remember my first day at Hogwarts as the best day of my life. I got so many wonderful friends who have always stood by me. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be sitting here today. The Weasleys have been like a family to me.”

Harry made a short pause. An owl was hooting softly somewhere nearby and the wind rustled through the trees.

“So many people have left me. Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore and so may others; they all died, just so that I could live. I want to believe that you’re all together now, in a better place.” A single tear trickled slowly down Harry’s cheek. It hurt to say the words out loud.

“Sometimes I even feel sorry for Snape. I’m sorry your friendship had to end the way it did.” Harry thought it was lucky Snape wasn’t here to hear this. If he would ever hear Harry pity him, he would without doubt carve Harry’s name in a gravestone and make sure the grave was deep enough to reach China.

“He never told me anything about it. I never even heard him mention your name, come to think of it.” Harry said bitterly.

“Despite knowing his true motives- “Harry stopped in mid-sentence when he saw something moving close to the iron gates.

He sat as petrified as the gravestones around him. His heart was pounding so fast that he was sure it echoed over the graveyard. He watched as the dark form slowly started to move in his direction. What if it was a death eater? The thought sent shivers down Harry’s spine and he realised just how stupid it had been to come out here alone, in the middle of the night. All he could do was hope that he would remain unnoticed and try to sneak away.

Harry vanished under the invisibility cloak and sneaked carefully to a statue close by. He didn’t really know why he stood hidden behind a statue, when he already was invisible. Still he somehow felt more protected behind the demon-like creature.

He held his breath when the dark figure stopped on the exact spot where Harry had just stood. It was something about him that reminded Harry of a death eater. The way he walked was almost a glide, like a dementor. The man bent down in front of the gravestone. It almost seemed as though he was examining something, like he knew someone had just been there.

When Harry realised why, the blood in his veins turned cold. He had completely forgotten to clear his tracks! Harry’s heart started pounding even faster. He had to get away, fast as possible. Otherwise the man would see exactly where the tracks led.

Harry had only taken one step backwards when something made a loud cracking sound. He stopped dead in his tracks. A branch must have been hidden underneath the snow. Harry didn’t have time to think more before the black-cloaked man had spun around and brandished his wand. It was pointing right at Harry’s statue. A second later a flash of red light soared straight at him. Harry managed to throw himself aside in the last second. The statue was blasted into pieces. Stones were flying everywhere. Harry’s invisibility cloaked slipped of as he fell to the ground. An inch from his head landed the angels deformed head.

Harry jumped to his feet and fired a cruse at the man, but missed. He turned around and started to run toward the iron gates. He had to get away from here to be able to apparate. It wasn’t something you could do with green killing curses flying around your head, it demanded utter concentration.

Harry had only taken a few steps when something suddenly grabbed his ankle and flung him upside down in the air. He wrestled in an attempt to free himself from the iron-like grip, but to no avail. When he heard the footsteps slowly approaching him he froze. Harry took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. So fitting that he already was in the graveyard where he someday wanted to be buried, he thought sarcastically.

Dangling upside down in the air Harry could hear the footsteps coming closer. He knew the man must be just behind him. Suddenly the footsteps came to a halt. Harry clenched his wand tightly and quickly went through some the most advanced defensive spells he knew.

"One would might think Potter..." a very familiar cold voice drawled. "...that after being warned countless number of times, the last time this very morning..." the voice turned into a dangerous sneer. "...even someone as exceedingly oblivious to dangers as you, would have got the message by now!"

Harry let out his breath in relief when he heard the unmistakable sneering tones of his least favourite potions master, although he wasn't really sure if relief was what he should be feeling. Snape could be just as intimidating as Lord Voldemort himself, if he really wanted.

"It should be engraved in your brain, as the names on these gravestones Potter!" Snape continued his ranting, clearly having no intentions of letting Harry down.

"Get. Me. Down." Harry made his best efforts to sound patient, but as usual he was finding it very hard to keep his emotions under control. Snape came to stand before him, a look of ferocity in his black eyes.

"I shall do that when you start considering the consequences of your actions." He leered at Harry while adding "Although that's as likely to come true as one of Trelawney's predictions."

By now Harry's head felt like it would explode any second. If it was because he was hanging upside down in the air, or because of Snape's inimitable sarcastic snarls was hard to say. The man was obviously having the time of his life, watching his favourite torture victim struggle pathetically.

"Well? Let me remind you Potter, while you may have all night to waist, I myself can't afford another second of your useless struggling." Snape said impatiently.

Harry was now boiling with anger. The last thing he would do was to give in to Snape's venomous taunts. There had to be another way for him to break the spell gripping him. All of a sudden it struck him! There probably was a way to break it. He couldn't understand how he had been so stupid as to forget it, when Snape himself had thought him this very spell. He closed his eyes in concentration and thought to himself. Mobilicorpus!

The next second he thudded to the ground. Harry glanced up at Snape who had raised his eyebrows. For a moment he looked at Harry appraisingly. It was impossible to say what went trough his mind.

"Maybe, one of these days, you actually manage to earn your first point for Gryffindor." Snape said smoothly. "If you manage to stay alive long enough that's to say." He added coldly.

Harry clenched his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white, while slowly getting to his feet. He shot a furious glare at Snape, but said nothing.

"Do you realise how incredibly foolish it was to come here Potter? Death eaters still on the loose, dementors outside ministry control and not to mention infery! Believe me when I say that's just for starters!" Snape snarled at Harry, his cold eyes had narrowed into small slits.

"See that head over there Potter?" He pointed his wand at the demon-like head of the statue, which had landed just an inch from Harry. "If you're caught by a death eater, you can consider yourself lucky to end up like that."

"What do you care?!" Harry couldn't contain himself any longer. "It's not like it's any of your concern whether I live or not! You've fulfilled your wows, paid all your life debts right?" Harry spat. "I don't need your or anyone else's help to survive. I'm tired of everyone trying to play my personal body guard!"

This had clearly driven Snape over the edge. In two short strides he was next to Harry, grabbing him by the collar. His eyes were filled with pure hatred, and when he spoke it was in a dangerously low whisper.

"Do not for one second believe that I saved your miserable excuse for a life, for seven years, just because I had noting more important to occupy myself with." His firm grip on Harry's collar tightened.

Harry tried not to flinch while Snape continued to glare at him furiously. Harry sighed, overcome by dejection. Why was this man so determined to hate him? He shifted his gaze, unable to meet Snape's penetrating eyes anymore. Shame washed over him as he remembered where they stood.

"I'm sure she would have been very sad to see this." Harry darted his eyes meaningly toward his mother's grave. Snape's eyes lost their coldness in an instant and change into something entirely different. He quickly released his grip on Harry's collar and turned away, making himself unreadable.

Harry waited for some nasty comment from Snape, but it never came. This had to be the first row with Snape where Harry had gotten the last word.

"Sir?" Harry tried carefully.

"Schh!" Snape said while he kept staring into the darkness. Harry went to stand beside him.

"What-"

"Be quiet Potter!" hissed Snape.

Harry didn't understand what he meant, but knew better than to disobey. Then he saw it. Something was moving a bit further away. It had a ragged billowing cloak and was now slowly gliding in their direction. Harry gasped as he realised that this time it actually was a dementor. He made to grab his wand but Snape stopped him with a hand.

"Potter run to the gates and apparate back to Hogwarts, now!" he demanded. Before he had time to say anything else the dementor came soaring at them like a black blur.

Snape pushed Harry aside so roughly that he lost his balance and his wand. Harry started to dig frenetically in the cold snow. He looked up when he heard Snape shout.

"Expecto patronum!"

The dementor was hovering inches from Snape, its bony white hands outreached. Harry expected to see the beautiful silver doe erupt from Snape's wand, but nothing happened.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Snape shouted again with a hint of desperation.

Harry stood motionless, at loss of what to do. What was wrong with Snape's wand? Why didn't the silver doe come?

Snape had spotted Harry and yelled in frustration.

"Potter I said GET AWAY!" He didn't have time to say anything more before the dementor bent down and hungrily started to drain him of emotions. The skeleton-like fingers closed around Snape's throat.

Harry desperately continued to search for his wand, but it was hopeless. The snow had completely buried it. His head snapped up as he heard a scream. Horrified he watched as a misty vapour was sucked out of Snape. Harry looked around for something to throw at the dementor in hopes of deflecting it. He grabbed a stone that lay beside him and threw it full force at the dementor. The stone hit the dementor squarely in the face and it let go of Snape, who fell to the ground.

Suddenly Harry had an idea.

"Throw me your wand!" he shouted to Snape, who lay panting on the ground.

The dementor already started to find its way back to him.

"Your wand, throw it to me now!" Harry yelled once again.

"NO POTTER! RUN!"

Once again Snape pointed his wand at the dementor. His hand was shaking badly.

Without giving much thought to what he was doing Harry shouted "Accio wand!"

To his utter amazement Snape's wand came soaring through the air and landed in his outstretched hand. Harry just stared at it dumbfounded. He had never even attempted wandless magic before and had certainly not expected it to work.

"Potter what- "Snape started but was silenced as the dementor closed in on him and continued to suck out his soul.

Harry pointed Snape's wand at the dementor. He had no idea if it would work. When he had tried to use Malfoy's wand even the simplest spells had been difficult to master, but this was their only hope. Harry closed his eyes and pictured himself together with his parents and his friends, trying with all his might to evoke memories of love and happiness.

"Expecto patronum!" The bright silvery stag immediately erupted from the wand and ran to chase off the dementor.

All of a sudden Harry felt something stinging his hands. He gasped and dropped Snape's wand to the ground. The stinging pain grew until it felt like his hands would burn up. Harry felt dizzy. He sat down on the ground and tried to soothe the pain with the cold snow, but it didn't seem to help. The agony was soon becoming unbearable. He let out a scream of agony and then passed out.

----

Someone was calling his name over and over again, demanding him to wake up. Harry tried to open his eyes.

"Get up Potter! Now!"

Harry's eyes snapped open as he remembered where he was.

"Get up! We got to get to the gates and fast." Snape repeated urgently, his voice hushed.

Harry hissed and almost passed out again, as he tried to push himself up whit his blistered hands.

"What was that? What's wrong with your wand? Harry groaned.

"It's cursed." Snape said as he helped Harry get to his feet. When he saw Harry's horrified expression he rolled his eyes and added.

"It curses everyone who tries to use it, except for me. Quite useful in the hands of an enemy I must say... however, I need to get you an antidote rather sooner than later."

Snape grabbed Harry's arm and started to drag him toward the iron gates. Harry wondered if he even would make it as far. The pain was soon becoming more than he could endure. He looked up at Snape. The serious expression on his face was really frightening.

"Why do we have to go trough the gates to apparate?" Harry asked.

"Someone has put an anti-apparition jinx on the graveyard."

"Do you have any idea who's behind it?"

"Many, none of which I feel obligated to share with you. Now get a move on Potter!" Snape said impatiently and continued to walk briskly.

They walked in silence for a while. Harry found it harder and harder to keep up with Snape's pace. Fortunately they were almost at the gates by now.

When they had passed the gates Snape stopped. He grabbed Harry's arm tightly and was just about to apparate when Harry interrupted.

"This curse you mentioned, it wouldn't happen to be another one of your brilliant inventions would it?" He tried to sound as sarcastic as possible, but the pain was making it very hard.

"One point to Gryffindor Potter."

Harry could have sworn he had just seen the corner of Snape's mouth twitch, but the moment was gone as the surroundings became blurred, and they apparated away from the graveyard.

Harry sighed in relief when he and Snape hit the solid ground of Hogwarts. Light seeped out through every window of the castle. It looked warm and inviting. Harry looked longingly at the Gryffindor tower where his soft bed was waiting for him. Snape let go of Harry's arm and continued his brisk walk toward the castle without as much as a glance back. The pain in Harry's hand kept growing and his feet had gone numb with cold, making it hard to even take two steps without loosing balance. He tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other as he staggered after Snape. The distance between them had already grown so that Snape soon would be completely swallowed by darkness.

Harry doubled over as the most excruciating pain imaginable suddenly seared up his arm. The curse was spreading deeper and deeper under his skin. He took a few deep breaths as he waited out the worst of the nausea. Snape would probably keep walking all the way to the castle, pretending to have forgotten all about him. He closed his eyes but opened them quickly as he was blinded by a bright light. Snape was standing in front of him with his wand raised, glaring down testily. His arms came to rest in a crossed position.

"We don't have time for star gazing Potter." He said as he grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him up.

Harry was just about to give Snape a nasty retort as he spotted his right hand. Gasping he freed himself from Snape's pincer like grip. The veins were swollen and had turned a dark shade of grey. A horrifying thought crossed Harry's mind. What if this was the same curse that Voldemort had put on his ring? He grimaced as the memory of Dumbledore's dead hand surfaced. Maybe that was why Snape was in such a hurry to get Harry the antidote, otherwise his hand would rot!

Harry looked up to see Snape eying him questioningly. An expression very similar to concern washed away his harsh features.

"Is this the same curse that was put on the ring Dumbledore put on?" Harry tried to keep his voice from quavering.

"Convinced as you may be Potter, I am not the Dark Lord." Snape said, sounding slightly embittered. Ignoring Harry's ashamed look he continued to drag him toward the castle.

"Would you have paid even the slightest of attention in our lessons a few years back, you would have known to appreciate the power of occlumency. It's a very effective way of relieving pain" Snape made a short pause, then added spitefully "but obviously you feel no need for it as long as you get the attention you so desperately crave, or do you simply take pleasure in your endless suffering? Either way, I'm sure it can't be easy."

Harry quickened his pace in hopes of escaping Snape's snide remarks faster.

"I'm so thankful to have someone who can sympathize with me." He threw back.

Snape heaved a sigh in apparent frustration and tightened his already painful grip around Harry's arm.

"If insufferability was a subject I would without a second's hesitation give you and O Potter." Snape spat back and quickened the pace even more.

Harry tried hard not to loose balance. Despite all the pain he could not keep the corner of his mouth from twitching. To drive Snape to madness was amusing enough to drive away the after effects of the cruciatus curse. Anyway, it worked better than any for of occlumency.

Snape flung the castle door open and headed for the dungeons. The corridors were completely deserted. Not even a ghost could be sighted. Faint green light from the snake-shaped silver candlesticks made it somewhat easier for Harry to navigate in the darkness. Snape on the other hand kept walking as though in broad daylight.

When they were almost outside the Slytherin headquarters Snape stopped abruptly. Harry barely managed to avoid bumping into him. He turned his head in the direction Snape was looking and immediately saw what had caught his attention. Light seeped out from the potions classroom. Apparently they weren't the only ones awake this time of hour. A familiar scent found its way into Harry's nostrils. Someone was brewing potions, but who would be crazy enough to do that in the middle of the night? Harry could only think of one other person and he was standing right beside him, eying the door with a curious expression mingled with suspicion. Slughorn was of course another possibility, but Harry ruled him out as this probably wasn't a Christmas dinner party.

Snape had already put a hand on the door handle. The door opened to reveal not Slughorn but a girl about Harry's age. She stood bent over a steaming cauldron. The flame under the cauldron gave her long blond hair a golden shimmer. Her head snapped up as the door gave a sharp creaked.

Oh she would regret this! Harry was convinced Snape would rave about rule breaking and what exactly happened to students foolish enough to disregard the rules. She had lost her house at least 50 points and earned herself a month of detentions. Harry looked from the girl to Snape, but instead of taking points Snape only raised an eyebrow and gave her an inquiring look. When he spoke it was in a soft smooth voice.

"Isn't it a little late for homework? I can't remember myself expressing any dissatisfaction over your last brewings."

The girl didn't seem unnerved in the slightest by being caught in the act by Hogwarts most detention-generous teacher. She met Snape's black eyes unflinchingly and answered in a cool steady voice.

"I know, but I can't relax until I am completely satisfied with a potion." She put a blond strand behind her air and turned her attention back to the bubbling cauldron.

Harry's jaw had almost dropped to the floor in disbelief. He must have heard wrong. Obviously the pain had made him delirious. That could be classed as praise from Snape and she wasn't satisfied? Hermione would probably die of joy if he ever offered her the same compliment.

Apparently Snape had accepted this ridiculous excuse, because he was walking toward his personal potions store while pointing his wand at a chair close to the girl.

"Sit Potter." he demanded.

Harry was ripped from his thoughts and slowly walked over to a chair at the girls table. His arms and legs ached with cold. After he had taken a few deep breaths he looked up to find the girl glaring at him in disgust, like he was something contaminating. She looked away quickly as Harry's emerald green eyes met her icy blue. The first thing Harry noticed was the green and silver snake embroidered on her black robe. So that's why Snape looked past her rule breaking so easily, she was a Slytherin! He should have known.

"I see you're a Slytherin." Harry said in an attempt to start some sort of polite conversation.

"Excellent observation." She replied without bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She didn't even look up when she spoke.

A typical Slytherin! Harry strained to keep his calm. The girl was working very effectively. With precision she measured up ingredient after ingredient and occasionally gave the simmering potion a stir or adjusted the flame under the cauldron. You could tell she was a really devoted potion maker.

"I meant that I don't think I've seen you before, are you new here?" Harry tried again.

"You Gryffindors are too busy running away from us to ever have a clue of what's going on in our house."

Her words were laced with bitterness and she scowled at Harry's perplexed expression.

"Well, let me inform you. I've attended Hogwarts for five years just a class under you. I spent my sixth year as an exchange student in Bulgaria where I studied in Durmstrang."

Her clipped tones indicated that conversation with Harry was something she considered a complete waste of time. Snape probably cherished her as Slytherin's golden snake.

He looked over at the dark haired man hunched over a steaming cauldron a few tables away. Without any instructions he was pouring in ingredients of all kinds. The skilful way he worked made even Slughorn pale in comparison.

Suddenly another attack of pain shot through Harry's hand. He gasped loudly and looked at his hand. What he saw him see black clouds; his hand had turned black as the robe he was wearing! Harry had to steady himself with one hand against the table. Within a second Snape had stridden over to his side.

"Let me see your hand Potter." he spoke with urgency.

Harry held out his hand to Snape who let out a sharp hiss at the sight of it. Shaking his head slightly he thoughtfully studied Harry's hand for a few seconds, and then addressed the blond girl.

"Miss Carrow you brewed the Sharnogs draught the day before yesterday, am I correct? Would you pour up some of it in a bowl for Mr. Potter?" It was more of an order than a request.

Yes sir." She obeyed without questions.

Once again Harry's jaw hung wide open. Carrow! Had Snape gone mad?! Apparently teaching defence against the dark arts wasn't exciting enough anymore. He privately educated his own death eater army! Nobody in their right mind would have anything what so ever to do with someone named Carrow, and especially not after the war. This was very unnerving.

The Carrow girl had obviously noticed the look of dismay on Harry's face, because she was scowling coldly at him while she corked a vial filled with a blood-coloured potion.

"I know what you're thinking! So typical Gryffindors to judge us all by the house we're sorted into." She offered him a glare of outright dislike as she made to pour up the potion.

Harry started to get really annoyed. He hadn't even uttered one offending sentence and she was sneering at him in a way that almost resembled Snape himself.

"I'm not judging anyone." Harry said defiantly, although he knew it wasn't entirely true. "Only reason why I don't get along with Slytherins is that they often don't give me a reason to do so."

The Carrow girl and Snape snorted in unison, which made even more irritated. Without realising it she had as much prejudice toward Gryffindors as Harry had for Slytherins.

He frowned and looked at the neatly lined up potion bottles on the table and suddenly realised something. He had brewed the same potion just yesterday! It was called the Sharnogs draught and was used for...used for something. Harry struggled to remember its properties. It had something to do with wounds. It was used to heal cursed wounds. That was it!

"Professor, there's no need to use Miss Carrow's potion. I made the exact same potion just yesterday."

Snape looked up at Harry, his face suffused with incredulity.

"Certainly Potter. If you wish to be rid of both your hands by the end of the night, be my guest." Maliciously he added. "If not, I suggest you do as I say and put you hands in Miss Carrow's cauldron."

It was Harry's turn to snort.

"I brewed that potion correctly. Mine looked exactly like hers!" Harry gave Snape an indignant look while reluctantly putting his hand into the potion. He didn't want to admit that Snape probably had a point.

The pain was immediately alleviated. Harry felt how the irritation began to fade. He looked up at the girl who still ignored him determinedly. She was busy cutting up what Harry thought were Sopophorus beans. Frowning she traced a finger through the instructions in her copy of Advanced Potion-Making. You could tell by the smudged pages that the book had been well used. Her frown deepened and she clicked her tongue in apparent displeasure. If Harry interrupted her now she would probably freeze him with those icy blue eyes of hers, but he was determined to prove her and Snape that he wasn't the obnoxious attention seeking Gryffindor they both seemed so convinced of.

"What are you brewing?" He asked in an excessively polite voice.

The girl rolled her eyes and heaved a small dejected sigh.

"The Draught of the living death. It's used to create a state of deep sleep, so deep that the drinker will in fact appear dead." She explained it like Harry was some first year student who had never heard of the draught before.

Harry hid a devilish smirk. He looked over to Snape who was busy measuring a green liquid that looked alarmingly much like poison. The greasy black hair curtained his pale face.

"I would try crushing the sopophorus beans with the flat side of a silver dagger, that way you can extract the most juice." His words reverberated to the other side of the classroom.

The girl eyed him sceptically with raised eyebrows. She frowned and put a blond strand behind her ear while trying Harry's advice. When the juice was released from the sopophorus bean her eyes filled with surprise. Harry tried to stop the satisfied grin from spreading across his face. He didn't dare to look in Snape's direction, but he could feel the black eyes burning him with an angry glare.

The girl had already poured the juice into the potion and blue steams started to rise. In five seconds the potion had gone from clear blue to a black currant colour. The ideal halfway stage, Harry remembered.

She skimmed the instructions again and began stirring the potion in an anti-clockwise direction.

"Try adding a clockwise stir after every seventh counter-clockwise stir." He said lazily.

"Why would I do that? She looked at Harry as though he had a stamp that said stupid on his forehead.

"Just try it."

Harry could hear Snape working with his potion a little more loudly than necessary and he tried with all his might not to smirk.

To Harry's satisfaction the girl had once again taken his advice and the potion turned a shade of lilac, then eventually clear as water.

"Where on earth did you learn all this stuff?!" She sounded impressed and envious at the same time. Her irritation was as vanished.

"Just something I picked up my sixth year" Harry tried to sound modest.

"There's nothing in the books about this; you must have gotten it from somewhere." Her attempts at hiding her curiosity were now feeble.

Harry could constantly feel Snape's dark eyes shooing murderous glares at his back. A little uneased he shifted position. He hadn't intended to answer detailed questions about where and how he had obtained such impressing skills in potion-making.

"Well..." Harry started, unsure of how to explain his way out of it all without Snape making him spend the remaining weekends of the year in detention.

"An acquaintance of mine gave me some very useful tips" Harry struggled to find the right words "but I decided not to take them anymore.."

"Why?!" the girl interrupted aghast by what she herad.

"He seemed to think it was unfair to the other students. I got all the top marks while they had to struggle with the real instructions"

The girl continued to look at him in utter disbelief.

"Cheating he called it." Harry added while glancing bitterly at Snape who didn't show any sign of having heard Harry.

"That's nonsense! Who would ever think that? You simply followed different instructions. That doesn't necessarily mean the potion was easier to make." She shook her head slightly.

Harry wished she would shut up already, because this was becoming very embarrassing. He groaned inwardly as she continued.

"Reminds me of you Gryffindors with your tedious ravings about equitable treatment" She was rolling her eyes again.

Harry didn't know where to look or what to answer. If only the chair he sat on would sink through the floor. He thought desperately. Without knowing it the Carrow girl had just thrown the ultimate insult at Snape, accusing him of being a Gryffindor! He remembered the stricken look on Snape's face when Dumbledore had once made the same mistake.

"Gryffindor or not, I have to say that I agree with him." Harry said in an attempt to end the embarrassing discussion before Snape would change his mind and not give Harry the antidote.

"I wish the teachers would teach us cool things like that." She said in a low voice and glanced meaningly at Snape.

Harry glanced nervously over his shoulder, unsure whether Snape had heard or not. He was in the middle of cutting up an ingredient, but seemed to sense Harry's eyes on him and looked up. Their eyes met for a short second.

"I wish too." Harry heaved a small sigh and was for once in a long time the first one to look away.

"Would you roll up our sleeve and let me take a look at it?" the low, silky tones sounded again.

"What for? I already showed you once. What's so special about it?"

Snape heaved a deep sigh and gave up. " Alright, dismissed. We'll continue this discussion another day."

"Goodnight professor." Harry heard footsteps heading for the door and quickly hid behind a green velvet curtain. The door opened and then closed again and he heard waited until the brisk footsteps faded in the distance.