Severus was finishing up a response to a past student requesting an internship when Remus finally awoke. He tapped the scrolled parchment to seal it and set it aside to be delivered later in the morning when the post owl came.

“Morning, Severus,” Remus said as he crawled out of bed and walked over to the corner desk. He leaned down over the back of the chair until his face was level with the Potions Master’s, soliciting a quick kiss from him before moving away to gather fresh clothes.

Severus stood with the scroll clutched in his hand, having already gotten dressed when he awoke nearly an hour previous. He felt a squirming feeling in his stomach as the werewolf stripped off his night clothes right in front of him and pulled on a dressing gown before entering the bathroom for a shower. Blinking away that scene, Severus entered the sitting room to find both teens still sleeping soundly.

As he entered the kitchen for an early breakfast, Severus reflected on what had happened the night before when he had walked in on a conversation about himself between Draco and Harry. He had been in a foul mood already due to his aching ribs and being admonished by Harry because of it. Hearing the Gryffindor speak as though he understood Severus’ emotionless demeanour had sent him over the edge. He’d lost his temper with Harry, but even now he could not bring himself to feel guilty for what he said. He had been honest, and that’s something he’d never feel guilty for, no matter how it affected others.

Remus entered the kitchen just as Severus was tucking into a plate of kippers and eggs. He looked refreshed and relaxed as he sat down across from the Potions Professor. He poured himself some coffee and stirred in a bit of cream and sugar before taking a careful sip.

“Harry was quite upset last night, apparently because of something Draco had pointed out to him. He told me that he believes his ability to learn spells quickly came not from his own talents, but from powers transferred to him from Voldemort.” He paused as he took another sip of his rapidly cooling coffee, feeling slightly annoyed by the way Severus simple lifted an eyebrow and said nothing. “Perhaps he should keep things like that to himself. Harry does not need any more self doubt than he already has.”

Severus let his fork fall to his plate with a clatter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Perhaps Harry should get used to hearing such things, as they are true. He already knew that before; his fit of angst is more to do with his age than real distress, I assure you,” he snapped, his breakfast plate sliding away from him as if afraid of his tone.

Remus put down his coffee mug a little too hard, making the brown liquid slosh over the side. He pushed his chair back and made to stand, but turned to look back at Snape instead. “Be that as it may, Severus, the boy is already overloaded with stress. Pointing out to him that he’s not all he’s cracked up to be is not going to help his confidence any, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask of Draco, or anyone else for that matter. He feels responsible for his parents’ deaths. No sixteen-year-old should feel that kind of guilt.”

“No, it’s my job to feel that guilt, because it’s my fault,” Severus said quietly, looking away from Remus. It would always come full circle, he knew. He’d never escape what he did, no matter how guilty he felt or what he did to make up for it. Nothing could change the past and he would always be reminded of that.

Remus calmed down as he frowned at the brooding man across from him. Remus reached across the table and grasped one of Severus’ still crossed arms gently. “That’s not what I meant at all, Severus. It was not your fault either; you had no way of knowing. Like I told Harry last night – no one person is really at fault for any of it, but the person who should hold the blame is Peter Pettigrew; not you, not Harry, not anyone else.”

Before Severus could respond, the kitchen door swung open to reveal Harry and Draco yawning, still in their night clothes. They paused as they took in the scene before them, neither saying a word as Remus reluctantly pulled his hand away from Snape and started on his own breakfast.

Severus stood from the table and pulled the scrolled parchment from his pocket, handing it off to Draco. “Give this to the post owl when it arrives. It’s very important, so don’t forget. I’m sure Mr. Warrington wouldn’t appreciate it if you lost his internship papers.”

Draco scoffed at the rolled parchment as he watched Snape leave the kitchen with a familiar billow of his long robes. He slumped down into a seat beside Harry and slammed the parchment onto the table, hoping to crinkle it. The parchment stayed prim and stiff however, due to a common charm to keep post safe during its journey. “I can’t believe he’s giving the internship to Warrington. He told me he wouldn’t fill it until after I graduated.”

Harry was pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice and pulling a plate of eggs towards him as he eyed the scroll curiously. “What internship?”

Draco glared at Harry, his expression plainly conveying that he thought Harry was a complete idiot. “Severus’ potions internship, of course. He’s allowed to have an intern every two years, and then writes amazing recommendations for his intern to get them a really good job in the potions world. He promised me the internship after I finished Hogwarts,” Draco said with a sneer as he stabbed viciously at his kippers.

“Well, there is two years still until we finish Hogwarts. You said he does it every two years, so you can still do it after you graduate, right?” Harry pointed out, not seeing the issue here.

That same look of disdain crossed Draco’s face as he angrily ate his breakfast. “I said he’s allowed to do it every two years, not that he actually does do it every two years. He’ll usually take one intern every four to give himself time to recover from the last one. He finds them highly annoying and in the way, that’s why he’s very picky about who gets it. And it’s almost always a Slytherin. Only one or two Ravenclaws have braved it.”

“How come I’ve never heard of this internship before? Does he lock them away where no one can see, or have I just been that blind?” Harry asked, having never remembered seeing an assistant in potions classes before.

“Are you really this dumb, or is it just an act? I just told you he only takes an intern every four years. His last intern finished in our first year. They don’t stay the entire term, just long enough to garner Severus’ approval and get their recommendations. Lena Reginald left in November of our first year, and she was never in classes with the lower levels, only advanced potions,” Draco explained, his tone indicating that he thought Harry should know all of this already.

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s haughty explanation and continued eating his breakfast. “Is Snape the only Professor who does internships?” Harry asked, curious about that now. He didn’t remember seeing any other Professors with assistants either, so he figured Snape must be the only one.

“Every Hogwarts Professor is allowed to have an intern every two years, but they only do it if they’re specifically asked. Severus’ potions internship is the only one anyone has applied to in the last ten years,” Remus answered distractedly as he got up and let the post owl in through the small kitchen window.

“So I could do a Defence internship after I graduate?” Harry asked as he accepted the scrolled letters from Ron and Hermione from Remus’ outstretched hand.

“I’d be very willing to give you an internship, Harry, but I thought you were planning to apply for Auror training directly after Hogwarts?” Remus said as he flipped open the Daily Prophet and perused the front article. He closed the paper and looked around at Draco and Harry’s stunned expressions before realizing what he had said.

“Oh, damn it! I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet. Well, the kneazle is out of the bag now. Yes, I’m going to be teaching Defence again this year, and hopefully next.”

“But...but that post is cursed, every teacher can only teach one term,” Draco insisted vehemently.

“Ah, well, Dumbledore has found a snag in the curse and a possible solution. Every Professor can only teach Defence one term in a row. He thinks he’s figured out this curse, meaning I’ll be able to teach the next two years and possibly longer with no problems. If not, I can still teach this term at the least.”

Harry finished off his breakfast and pushed his plate away as he drank down his juice. “So what’s his solution, then?”

Remus smirked slyly as he tapped the scroll beside Draco’s plate. “Best get Hedwig to deliver this if you want your skin intact.”

“Bloody hell! Why didn’t anyone remind me? Can I borrow Hedwig?” Draco asked Harry with a worried expression.

Harry toyed with the idea of saying no, but figured he owed it to Draco for his instruction in Occlumency. “Yeah, sure. Hold on though; let me write back to Ron and Hermione so she can take them all together.”

“Yeah, alright. Anyways, what is this mysterious solution, Remus?” Draco asked as he turned back to the werewolf.

Remus cleared his throat as he pretended to be highly interested in an article about broom stick regulation. “If it is true that a Professor can only teach one term in a row, then Severus and I will switch off teaching Defence and Potions.”

“WHAT!?” Harry exclaimed as he paused in his writing a quick response to his friends on the back of their own missives.

“Dumbledore is finally giving Severus the Defence position?” Draco asked, gobsmacked by the very idea. His godfather had long been bitter about his constantly refused application to fill the ever elusive Defence Against the Dark Arts post due to his past dabbling in the Dark Arts themselves. Draco was curious as to what had changed the old man’s mind.

Remus shook his head as he pushed the paper aside. “No, not technically. Severus will only get the position should the curse render me from teaching more than one term in a row. There’s still a possibility that I can teach continuously.”

Harry rolled up his letters and whistled for Hedwig, who flew in through the kitchen window at his call. He gathered the three scrolls and attached them to the harness on her leg, giving her a thankful pat on the head and receiving a baleful hoot in return before she took off again into the bright sunlight. “Is that a very good idea, though? I mean, what if the curse is still in effect and it permanently injures you, or kills you even? I don’t think it’s very safe to test fate like that, Remus. You’ve already had the post once; who’s to say you won’t be struck by lightning just before the Welcoming Feast or something?” Harry asked, feeling his insides squirm uncomfortably at that thought. He couldn’t bear to lose Remus too; it would just be too much for him to handle after everything he’d been through with Sirius in the past year.

Remus sighed as he thought this over, not liking Harry’s worried tone or expression. “I trust Dumbledore, even if his judgement has been a little off as of late. If he says it’s safe, then I’m willing to bet he’s right. I’ll be fine, Harry. I don’t want you worrying yourself over this; that’s precisely why I was supposed to keep it quiet.”

Harry scoffed indignantly as he stood up and made his way to the door leading into the sitting room. “Yeah, just like everything else that gets kept from me, right, for my ‘own protection’? I’m not an over emotional invalid, I can handle being told stuff of a sensitive nature. I’m not a bloody child anymore. I wish you would all realize that already, especially Dumbledore,” Harry snapped as he pushed the door open with a little too much force and let it swing into the opposite wall.

Severus looked up calmly from the book he had been reading and glared at Harry, who looked to be in a foul mood as well. Great, today was going to be just lovely with everyone stuck in the cottage and in a tizzy about something or another. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t destroy my home, Mr. Potter. Scream and shout to relieve your frustration if you must, but do not try to break my doors off their hinges,” he drawled in a bored voice, though it carried a hint of threat in it.

Harry plopped down onto the couch across from Snape and crossed his arms over his chest, still fuming from what he saw as the injustice of it all. He started to feel a little niggling of guilt in his chest that he wished he could squash, but his morals told him to harbour it. “Sorry, sir...” Harry said quietly, wanting to rant and rave to someone. Well, Snape was present, calm and looked to not be busy – who better to rant and rave to? “I just hate being kept in the dark all the time, like I can’t handle all the details or something because Dumbledore doesn’t want me to worry my little head about seemingly meaningless things. Even though I’m the one who’s supposedly supposed to get rid of the bastard, I’m not allowed to know a damn thing about what’s being done to fight against Him! How the hell am I supposed to fulfil the Prophecy if I haven’t got a clue about what the hell is going on or how the hell I’m supposed to do it?!”

Severus was looking at Harry over the top of his book, one eyebrow raised as he listened to the teen rant. It was no wonder the boy had such a temper if he kept it all locked up like that and released it all at once. Severus couldn’t honestly say he knew how Harry felt, but he did know what it felt like to play a pawn in Dumbledore’s games, which is exactly what he was doing to the boy now.

“One thing you must understand about Dumbledore is that he’s a strategy type of player. All of this – the war, Voldemort, you and the Prophecy – it’s all a part of a big elaborate game, and Dumbledore is like the Master Player. Everybody on the Light side are essentially pawns in Dumbledore’s game plan, including you, though you’re more like the Knight than a pawn like everyone else, and I guess you could call me the Rook.” Severus noticed Harry’s increasingly bemused expression and decided chess references were obviously lost on the boy.

“Anyways, Dumbledore does not play on a level playing field. He is above the rest, the puppet master essentially, and we must do our own individually appointed jobs for the collective effort to achieve the goal that Dumbledore has set for us. You are not the only one who is often manipulated by the old man, as I know exactly how it feels to be used by Dumbledore. We are all tools to him, even the beloved Boy-Who-Lived. You’ve fallen into the same trap I found myself in – believing Dumbledore actually cared beyond achieving his goals, beyond the ‘Greater Good.’”

Harry sat and thought about that long winded speech for quite awhile, not wanting to believe Dumbledore was just using him like a tool, but that’s what it was, wasn’t it? If Dumbledore truly cared, he wouldn’t have kept him in the dark the summer before, or all throughout his fifth year. If he cared, Harry would have known about the Prophecy, would have known the vision was a trick from Voldemort, would never have drug his friends into the heart of danger and lost his godfather, who was only trying to protect him. Anger boiled up in Harry as he realized Snape was right – Dumbledore was just a manipulator, that’s what he did. “As cynical as that all sounded, I think I agree with you. It’s a sad day when you realize your mentor is a manipulative old man rather than a caring instructor.”

Severus closed his book and set it aside, leaning forward with his fingers intertwined in front of him. That disdainful, almost mournful look on Harry’s face hit far too close to home for Severus, who knew exactly the emotions the boy was feeling. He knew it certainly didn’t feel good, either. “Trust me, Harry, I know how that feels.” He paused as he studied the teen’s worried face, which looked much too old to belong to a sixteen year old. “We are far more alike than I think we both realize. Whether or not that is a good thing is yet to be determined, I guess.”

Harry shrugged as he too had found all the similarities between them rather disconcerting, but it did make sense. “Maybe that’s why we’ve never really gotten along very well. I’ve always heard that two people who are very much alike will always be at loggerheads with each other. Not to mention your lingering hate of my father; that certainly didn’t help the situation,” Harry pointed out, feeling rather cynical and not very bothered by it like he normally would have been.

Severus let a small smirk pull at the corners of his mouth as he sat back in his armchair and sighed heavily. “That, Harry, is about the most intelligent thing I think I’ve ever heard you say. However, when it comes to being very similar to someone else, understanding is much easier to accomplish once those similarities are discovered.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re practically twins or anything. In fact, a lot of people would probably describe us as complete opposites if they didn’t look closely enough. I’ll never be as snarky or cynical as you, and you’ll never be as noble or headstrong as me, not to say that you’re not brave, though. Anyone who can spend years pulling the wool over Voldemort’s eyes and surviving His wrath when He finds out certainly would have to have some hefty bollocks.” Harry blushed as he realized what he’d said. “Sorry, I don’t think that came out quite right.”

Severus chuckled and shook his head. “Statements like that help remind me that you’re still a teenager, Harry, and I think that came out exactly like you intended, as crass as it was. I’m honoured that you would classify me as brave as having ‘hefty bollocks’, as you said.”

Harry snorted in laughter and doubled up as his giggling got the best of him. He’d never imagined he’d be sitting across from Severus Snape having a deep discussion, getting along, and laughing together to round it all out. It certainly was the strangest summer Harry had had so far.

S~S~S~S

Harry rubbed his temples as that familiar headache started to creep up on him again. He toyed with the idea of asking Snape for another Headache potion, but fought the urge as he didn’t want to become too dependent on them. He needed to get used to this if he wanted to succeed in keeping his shields up constantly.

“If you concentrate too much on it, you’re only going to give yourself a headache,” Draco said from across the sitting room, his wand held limply at his side.

Harry glared at the Slytherin as he pulled his hands away from his temples. “Yeah, I think I’ve realized that much, thanks. How do I do it without concentrating so damn much, then? What am I doing wrong here?” he asked frustratedly as he took up pacing in the cramped sitting room once more.

Draco sighed as he flicked his wand and turned the pages in the book sitting on the coffee table to a specific chapter. “You’re thinking too far into it. You concentrate on keeping the shield up constantly, right? What you need to do is let the shield come up as a sort of instinct, something you don’t really consciously think about, but still do; like breathing for instance. You don’t have to keep telling your lungs to release and refill with air, but they still do it automatically by impulses from the brain. Your block needs to be like an automatic impulse, and the only way to achieve that is by practise. However, you can’t let yourself wallow in the task of keeping the shield up. Focus on it long enough to bring it up, and then just let it sit and forget about it; let it fall to the back of your mind. The only time you should concentrate on it is to strengthen it against attack, or to occasionally check that it’s still there.”

“But how will I know it’s still there in the background if I’m not concentrating on it?” Harry asked, feeling like this lesson was going in complete circles and making his aching head dizzy.

“That’s precisely what I mean when I say it takes practise. In time you’ll learn to be able to keep the shield up without really thinking about it. It will start to become second nature to you, but only if you put in the effort to make it so. Yes, you’ll most likely concentrate on it a lot in the beginning, but that will change. Think of it this way; how do you know your block is still up while you’re sleeping? If you had to concentrate on that shield, you’d never get any sleep. Think about how it feels to pull up that block just before drifting off to sleep, remember that feeling, and try to apply it to keeping the shield up while awake. Does that make more sense?” Draco asked, feeling his own head pounding from re-explaining everything multiple times in many different ways for the Gryffindor. He was certainly being remarkably patient with his thick-skulled school mate.

Harry sighed as he dropped into the armchair and let his wand fall to the side. “Yeah, it makes sense, it’s just frustrating. I mean, until I figure out exactly how to do what you’re saying, I’m going to keep thinking about it too much, which is only going to make it harder. It’s like a never ending cycle and it’s damn annoying.”

Draco chuckled as he sat down on the couch, reaching over and closing the Occlumency book. He figured they were done for the day, as they both had massive headaches and could use a break. They had made much progress already though, at least in the way Harry actually understood what he was supposed to do; now he just needed to figure out how to do it, and that was something that he’d have to figure out mostly on his own. Draco decided he’d sneak up on Harry one last time before calling it quits, just to keep him on his toes. He cleared his throat to get Harry’s attention, which worked, and quickly raised his wand. “Legilimens!”

There was a shield in place in Harry’s mind, but having been distracted by his headache he didn’t pull the block up in time. He watched in rapidly developing horror as Draco watched and heard every word of the Prophecy from Dumbledore on that fateful night of the Ministry fiasco. Too panicked to concentrate enough, Harry couldn’t push Draco out in time before the spell was broken. It was too late though; Draco had stayed just long enough to hear the full Prophecy.

With his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open stupidly, Draco stared at Harry for long seconds before he realized Harry was pointing his wand at him. One glance into Harry’s eyes and Draco could read the Obliviation spell forming on the tip of his tongue. He quickly pulled up his blocks and cast a shield charm around himself, glaring balefully at the Gryffindor. “Bloody hell, Potter! You were going to Obliviate me? What’s wrong with you?!”

Harry shot up to his feet and began pacing again, mentally berating himself for letting that memory out so very easily. “I’m sorry! I just – you should not have seen that memory! Dumbledore is going to kill me.”

Draco let down the shield charm around him reluctantly, his wand still held firmly and ready to counter if Harry tried the memory charm after all. “Why on earth was it the first thing on your mind behind the shield if it’s that important then? Besides, I’m under Oath, you git! I can’t tell anyone what I saw and heard even if I wanted to,” Draco reminded the Gryffindor, his heart still beating quickly in his chest. He was still reeling from the information he had just found out about the foolishly proud teen still pacing the room tirelessly.

Harry stopped his pacing and fell back into his seat, frustrated beyond belief now. How did that memory come to the surface? He had not been thinking about the Prophecy really at all – or had he been? “I wasn’t technically thinking about that. I was thinking about my fight with Remus this morning and – ”

“You prat, didn’t Severus teach you about memory links?” Draco asked incredulously, wondering why Severus would have left that important detail out.

Harry had to think about that a moment before realizing that, no, he’d never actually heard that term before – from Severus or his books on Occlumency. “No, actually, he didn’t. What is it?” he asked, feeling wary of the answer before Draco even began to explain.

Draco rolled his eyes as he relaxed his wand and prepared to go into lecture mode again. “Memory links are trails of memories leading from one to another, or many others. A lot of your memories are interlinked, having some sort of relation to each other in one way or another. Even simple thoughts like what you’ll be having for dinner may lead back to a very important memory if you happened to have been eating dinner during that memory, or thinking of it even. My point is, I can follow one memory on to many others using the links and trails connected to said memory. That’s why constant blocks are essential; even the most mundane thoughts can lead to important memories, such as the one I just saw.”

Harry huffed in annoyance. Why had he not been told about this in the first place? Now he was simply afraid to think at all, paranoid that thinking about flowers could somehow lead to a memory about his mum because her name was Lily. It was more than disconcerting, it was downright infuriating. “Well I’m glad someone had the sense to fill me in on that. Severus never once mentioned it, nor did any of the Occlumency books Snape has.”

“Well, that might be because it’s a controversial and not widely accepted theory on Occlumency and Legilimency. Most people think it’s circumstantial, really, but I’ve had it done to me enough times by my father to firmly believe that it’s fact. He would always use that to catch me in a lie by using trails from my projected memories to find out the truth. Not until I learned to constantly shield was I able to lie to him without him knowing,” Draco explained, shivering at the memory of his father manipulating his mind constantly to find out the truth.

Harry frowned at Draco’s tone, but didn’t question it as it wasn’t really his business. “So Snape must believe it’s circumstantial too, or else he would have told me, right?” Harry asked, still wondering why Snape would leave something so important out of their lessons.

“Well...Severus is well versed in using the same tactics. He and my father learned Occlumency and Legilimency together. I think maybe...well...I’m not sure about this, so don’t fly off the handle, but I think Severus didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry about it.”

Harry scowled darkly as he crossed his arms over his chest, his anger boiling in his veins yet again. “Bloody hypocrite. He’ll be getting a piece of my mind later, that’s for sure,” Harry snarled, surprised by his own viciousness.

Draco frowned as he thought over what he had seen again. Under the Oath, he couldn’t tell anyone else about it, but surely he could question Harry about it, right? “So...Was that the Prophecy, then? The one the Dark Lord sent my father to retrieve?” Draco asked tentatively.

Harry blinked in surprise. He didn’t think Draco had known what his father’s mission had been at the Ministry. He considered denying it at first, but he figured it wouldn’t do him any good; people would start to find out eventually, and Draco was on their side now anyways. Plus, there was the Oath to protect him. “Yes, that was the bloody Prophecy. The bane of my existence, the reason I’m alive, the pain in my arse,” Harry snapped, feeling more and more unpleasant as he went.

Draco let out a snort of laughter as he smirked at the Gryffindor. “You’re starting to sound like Severus, Potter.” He chuckled again as Harry glared darkly at him. “So...What does it mean, then? You have to kill him, or he’ll kill us all?”

Harry thought about that explanation and decided it worked just as well. “Essentially yes, but there’s more to it than that. Voldemort already knows the first half of that, it’s the second half he wants. It’s the second half that’s important. That part there in the middle, about ‘marking him as his equal and having powers the Dark Lord knows not’ – that’s the most important part of it. It means that because Voldemort fulfilled the first half and ‘marked me as his equal’ by transferring some of his powers after he killed my parents, he set the second half in order with the ‘powers the Dark Lord knows not’ part.”

“But wait, that doesn’t make sense. The powers that he transferred to you are the ones ‘the Dark lord knows not’? How is that possible, if they’re his own powers?” Draco asked, becoming a little lost by Harry’s explanation.

Harry felt like this was some sort of climax as his chest became tight at the notion of explaining this part to Draco Malfoy – Slytherin Ice Prince extraordinaire. “Actually, no, that’s not the power the Prophecy is referring to. When Voldemort killed my mum, she put an ancient blood protection on me. That’s how I survived the killing curse, because of my mum’s charm. That charm required unrequited and unconditional love of a great amount.”

Draco cocked an eyebrow as he stared at Harry, sure that he was going to say he was only joking. It never came. “So you’re saying that this ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’...is love?” he asked incredulously, feeling slightly disappointed. He had hoped that Potter possessed some sort of extraordinary magical powers that would rival any of the Dark Lord’s extensive powers, but love? He certainly hadn’t expected that curve ball.

Harry blushed as he physically squirmed in his seat. “Yes...My super, extraordinary, fantastical power is the ability to love. Very anticlimactic, eh?” Harry said with a wry grin.

“I’ll say. So how are you supposed to kill him with...love?” Draco asked, feeling his faith in the Light slide slipping as he thought about it.

Harry snorted derisively and rolled his eyes. “Good question. Let me know when someone finds out, because I haven’t a bloody clue.”

Both boys whipped around in their seats as the bedroom door slammed open to reveal Snape, who looked livid.

“Gee, Potter, why don’t you just broadcast that to every Death Eater’s son, eh? You are learning Occlumency for a reason, you idiot child, and that’s to keep things like the Prophecy safe from prying eyes! You do realize that you just told Lucius Malfoy’s son exactly what the Dark Lord needs to know, don’t you? How could you be so foolish?”

Remus stepped into the sitting room from the kitchen, looking around curiously as Severus’ shouting had attracted his attention. “What is going on, Severus?” he asked in a worried tone. Both Harry and Draco were looking a mixture of terrified and indignant.

Severus’ nostrils flared and he crossed his arms over his heaving chest and started to pace back and forth in front of his bedroom door. “This idiot of a Gryffindor just explained the entire Prophecy to Draco, word for word, meaning for meaning.”

“Are you eaves dropping on our lessons?” Harry asked in shock.

“I’m under a Wizard’s Oath, Severus! I couldn’t tell anyone about it if I had wanted to, which I don’t! Don’t you trust me?” Draco asked, clearly stung by Severus’ accusations that Draco would ever betray this information to the Dark Lord.

“That’s not true! No, you couldn’t repeat the Prophecy word for word to anyone because you learned that from your Occlumency lessons with Potter, but everything that he just explained to you, you could surely run off and tell anyone you wanted. The way you both worded the Oath limits the protection greatly. It is not a matter of trusting you, but of what could be drawn out of you should you end up at the mercy of the Dark Lord or his followers again!” Severus snarled, his temper way beyond out of control now. Once he got started in on his rants, it was hard to stop.

“Well that isn’t Harry’s fault! He didn’t know he was limiting the Oath with the way he worded it, and besides, I was the one who asked him to explain,” Draco shot back, not quite sure why he was defending Potter in all of this.

Severus snorted mirthlessly as he glared at his godson. “Oh, how noble of you, Draco. You want to take responsibility for it? Fine; you’re both bloody imbeciles!”

“Severus, really! Calm yourself, please. There is a way to fix this, ok? We’ll just have to make Draco take another Oath to keep all details of the Prophecy to himself. Does that sound good to you two?” Remus asked of the two teens, who were both still looking quite scared and angry at the same time.

Harry simply nodded while Draco seemed to sag in relief. “Of course I’ll take another Oath, just as long as no one tries to Obliviate me, which was Harry’s first instinct,” said Draco, sending a half-hearted glare at the Gryffindor, who shrugged in apology.

Severus stepped forward, his arms still crossed tight over his chest. “Fine, Draco will take another Oath, but I have another idea as well. Potter, you’ll remove your memory of the Prophecy and store it in a safe place so that nothing like this can happen again.”

Remus scoffed as he stared at Snape. “You can’t be serious, Severus! That’s just as ridiculously foolish as keeping the Prophecy on record at the Ministry! It will just be another target for Voldemort to go after.”

“Not if he never finds out about it. Come, Potter, start thinking of every detail and I’ll even remove it for you,” Severus said as he summoned a thought storing vial from his potions lab.

“No, Harry! Don’t do it,” Remus exclaimed, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to keep him from moving towards Snape.

Severus was shaking with rage now as he clutched the unbreakable vial in his hand and his wand in the other. “Back off, Lupin,” he hissed dangerously through his clenched teeth. His dark eyes dared the werewolf to interfere again.

Remus stepped away from Harry and closer to Snape, his own amber eyes flashing gold in a clear warning sign from the wolf. “No, you back off, Snape. Harry is as good as my son and I won’t let you take this away from him. He deserves to know the details of the Prophecy more so than anyone else, including Dumbledore!” he shouted, his voice shaking in anger along with the rest of his slightly taller frame.

“He does not deserve to know the details if the fool is going to let his mind be read like a children’s book! If he cannot keep the information safe in his head, then I will keep it safe in a bottle,” Severus snarled, taking a step closer to the werewolf as well, standing his ground without an ounce of fear.

A low growl emitted from Remus throat as he went to raise his wand, but someone caught his arm before he could fire a hex.

“Stop it! Stop it, both of you! You’re behaving like children! Fine, I’ll give up the memory; it’s not that big of a deal, really. If it can be kept safe outside of my mind, then I don’t really care where it is as long as it far, far away from Voldemort. Just calm down,” Harry pleaded, not quite prepared to step in if a duel between the two wizards were to break out. He had been touched by what Remus had said about him being as good as a son, but he really didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

Remus took a few steps back and shoved his wand back into his inside pocket, still glaring daggers at the Potions Professor. “This isn’t right, Harry. I’ll certainly be having a discussion with Dumbledore about this. That memory shouldn’t go anywhere unless he tells you to remove it.”

Severus sneered at Remus and crossed his arms back over his chest, his wand still held in his hand. “Go ahead, tattle to dear old Dumbledore, see if I give a bloody hell. I’m trying to keep not only Harry safe, but everyone else. Your sentimental, ridiculous affection for the boy will not keep him safe from his own foolish mistakes. It is not my fault you cannot protect your ‘son’,” he snapped, glaring right back at the werewolf, his anger subsiding only very little.

Remus felt his blood run cold as every single feeling of affection he had felt for Severus burned up in his anger. He visibly paled, though he stood his ground still. “Draco, you’re switching beds with me,” he stated calmly, tearing his eyes away from Snape and looking over at Draco, who was looking much like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Uh, sure, alright. Am I going to take that Oath now?” Draco asked nervously, glancing back and forth between the two older men, taking in Harry every once in a while as well. He had never seen Snape so angry before, and he had seen Snape plenty angry on plenty of occasions to compare it to. He was scared pretty thoroughly.

“Yes. You are going to say ‘I solemnly swear to an Oath of Silence regarding anything and everything to do with the Prophecy, gained from Legilimency or discussed otherwise’, got it?” Remus said, having already come up with a way to keep Draco from releasing any information about the Prophecy.

Draco and Harry both pulled out their wands in a familiar gesture. Draco turned his wand handle out towards Harry and thrust it towards him.” I solemnly swear to an Oath of Silence regarding anything and everything to do with the Prophecy, gained from Legilimency or discussed otherwise.”

Harry touched the tip of his wand to the handle of Draco’s and the familiar blue glow lit up both their wands and their faces before fading into the wood once more.

“Now the memory, Potter,” Snape said as he uncorked the memory storing vial and held up his wand, ready to remove Harry’s memory of the Prophecy. He didn’t spare a glance for the werewolf; he just stood staring at Harry, waiting for the boy to bring the memory forth.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to gather every thought and detail about the memory of when Dumbledore had told him the full Prophecy. When he was sure he had it all, he gave a short nod of his head and then felt the tip of Snape’s wand at his temple. The memory started to fade then slipped away as Snape pulled the gossamer strand away from his temple and dropped the not quite smoke nor liquid into the vial, corking it once more with his wand and sealing it.

“Where are you going to keep it?” Harry asked, feeling a bit wary now that it was actually gone from his mind.

Severus pocketed the bottled memory and stashed his wand away as well. “Somewhere safe, I assure you. Do not worry yourself about.”

That comment sparked a fuse in Harry, reigniting his anger from before. “Oh yeah, speaking of worrying myself about things, you’re a bloody hypocrite, you know that? Why didn’t you teach me about memory links, eh? That’s the whole reason Draco even saw that, and it’s your fault for not teaching me! So don’t you go around telling Remus he can’t protect me when it was you who messed up in the first place, sir,” Harry snapped, sneering at the Potions Professor just as fiercely as Remus had been before. He knew it probably wasn’t the best time to piss Snape off again, but he needed to get that off of his chest while the anger was still fresh.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh, sounding and looking so much older than he was. “I did not teach you about memory links because they are merely a theory, not a proven practise. I don’t particularly think it will work with the unique connection you have with the Dark Lord,” Severus tried to explain in a tired voice.

“No, Draco was just able to do it without even meaning to. You should have told me either way. I need to know everything in order to close my mind,” Harry insisted, not really having thought about it not working with his connection to Voldemort.

“You’re right, Potter, I should have told you. Are you done yet? I’m quite tired,” Severus said in a bored voice, looking as tired as he felt. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to sleep and forget about said day. He also wanted to ignore the slight twinge he felt when Remus and Draco set about switching beds and moving their stuff around for the change.

Harry stared dumbly at Snape for nearly a full minute, not quite sure he had heard correctly. When Snape cocked an eyebrow impatiently he realized he was actually supposed to answer that. “Er...Yeah, goodnight, then,” Harry said, feeling extremely awkward indeed. He’d never seen the snarky Potions Professor so defeated before.

Severus turned and stalked into his room, waiting for Draco to finish moving his trunk in before slamming the bedroom door in Harry’s face. As he changed for bed and snuffed out the candle on the desk, he ignored the sympathetic and knowing look from his godson, turning on his side and closing his eyes immediately.

Harry sat down on the corner of his bed, rubbing his still pounding temple. He was screwed for Headache potion now – that was for sure. He looked over at Remus, who was calmly organizing his things and stuffing them under the bed for the night. “You didn’t have to do that, Remus...I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Harry said quietly, feeling like he needed to apologize to makes things right.

Remus sighed as he stood up and crossed the room, sitting beside Harry on his bed. “You didn’t cause any trouble, Harry, not at all. Snape caused his own trouble. He made a big deal out of it for some stupid reason, but that isn’t your fault, alright? Do not apologize for that man’s belligerence,” Remus said snidely, glaring at the closed bedroom door.

Harry bit his lip as he too gazed at the closed bedroom door, still feeling like he had caused all the trouble, no matter what Remus told him. “He really pissed you off, didn’t he?” Harry asked quietly. Remus was usually a very mild mannered person, but the way he was talking now spoke of boiling anger.

Remus pulled his eyes away from the door eventually, a deep frown on his face. “Yes, Harry, he pissed me off thoroughly. You should get some rest, get rid of that headache of yours. Goodnight, Harry.” Remus gave Harry a quick hug before moving back to his own bed and crawling under the covers, feeling very worn out and extremely sad. He should have known that it was too good to be true.

“Night, Remus.” Harry pulled off his trainers and socks, laying them beside the bed and pulling his tee shirt off over his head. As he lay his head down on his pillows, he couldn’t help but feel he had torn some sort of hole in the patched up relationship between Snape and Remus, and it made him feel horrible.