After much thought, Harry did talk with Ron and Hermione. He wasn't sure if they really understood how scary it was being the Boy Who Lived. But they tried their best to support him and to take his mind off the bad things. They helped him contact Sirius through the floo. Even Hermione, who was always the worrywart and party pooper, helped out. Talking with Sirius face to face and hearing his godfather laugh calmed him down and Harry's mood improved immensely after that.

On the advice of his godfather and friends, Harry decided not to antagonize Umbridge. It was a hard task, seeing as how the witch was strutting around the school like she owned it. And Harry was never good at keeping a low profile. He'd excelled at it with the Dursleys, but he'd had years of practice. Hogwarts was another matter, the troublesome boy had developed a knack for drawing attention when he was at school.

Harry occupied his free time drawing up lesson plans for D.A., which in Harry's month long absence hand been kept in tip top shape by Hermione and Ginny. Harry was rather impressed with the progress they were making. Despite a couple of close calls with Filch and Umbridge, it was going swell. And with Snape no longer giving Harry hell every time they met, fifth year was turning out better than it started.

So, it had to take an accidental de-aging for Snape to finally stop being a git to Harry. The Slytherin professor no longer looked at Harry like the child was the bane of his life and in response, Harry began to feel much more relaxed around Snape. Potions class were more bearable, even if it was with the Slytherins and Harry was still pants at it.

As his mood lightened, the bad dreams became less frequent. Only now his dreams were filled with images and flashes of his time as a baby. They became so vivid and the emotions so real that Harry was almost convinced that they were memories.

In the past Harry's nightmares of Voldemort often made him nauseous, angry and sick. Now the emotions of comfort and happiness he experienced during the dreams carried over into his waking hours. When he saw Snape, he felt odd feelings of trust and security. Harry supposed that it was a nice feeling, but one that he was strikingly unfamiliar with.

When Harry consulted Ron and Hermione about his odd dreams, they suggested that these were not your regular dreams. Well, he kind of had that figured.

"It's magic of course," Ron explained one evening at supper, as matter-of-factly. "You were de-aged, you weren't really 15 months old. Not, you know, naturally 15 months old. So, obviously it's the magic that's making you remember."

Ron's hypothesis sounded very plausible to Harry. "Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," he responded.

Hermione, on the other hand had a very different interpretation of Harry's dreams. She, being a girl and being Hermione, had delved deeper and went all psychological on the boys. "When you were a baby, you saw Professor Snape as your dad. You were so attached to him that you'd cry if he was gone for any length of time. Subconsciously, you miss him. Furthermore, because you can't consciously remember anything, your longing manifest themselves in dreams."

Harry had to take a moment to figure out what Hermione meant. "Soooo?"

"So, you're conflicted because you remember Professor Snape as two different people. One as your father and the other as the potions master you hated."

"Annnd?"

"Well it's obvious isn't it," Hermione announced. "You remember two Professor Snape, but you want the one who you feel connected to. You want him as your dad."

Ron laughed out loud, very nearly choking on his pumpkin juice.

Harry shook his head. "Dad? Hermione, you have got to be kidding me! Besides, what did I know, I was barely one years old."

"Well, as far as you knew, he was your dad," Hermione replied adamantly. "Or maybe, not as far as a dad. Maybe as your mentor or something. Like Sirius or Dumbledore or…."

Harry cut her off, "Mmnn…no. Just no."

When Harry was a child he craved affection. He would look at all the other kids and couldn't understand why his family didn't love him. Then he came to Hogwarts, where he made real friends and met people who cared about him, loved him even. There were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, Hagrid. Professor Dumbledore, even Professor McGonagall and of course, the best friends a kid could ask for. Then there was Snape ,the man who had made it a hobby to put him down. Now, Harry reckoned that other than his parents (the Dursleys notwithstanding), Snape was probably the only one who looked after him for any length of time. Oh the irony.

"What about Sirius? If anyone's like a dad to me, it's Sirius."

"I know, but Sirius wasn't the one who looked after you for a month."

"But I bet he wanted to. He can't help it if he's been wrongfully convicted and is running for his life."

"Harry, I'm not asking you to start calling him dad or anything. I'm just saying he was fatherly to you. And maybe some part of you still want that from him."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know Harry. But all of these dreams you're having has to mean something."

"You sound like Trelawney."

"I do not!"

"Whatever," Harry finished. He frowned and looked up at the staff table where Snape sat. It still felt bizarre that one side of him still did not trust Snape and another side of him yearned for something akin to fatherly love.

o0oo0oo0oo0o

Four weeks after Harry's recovery and just as he was getting back to a life of semi-normality, things got complicated again. You see, Harry woke up in the middle of the night, reeling from a dream.

Strangely, this dream had nothing to do with his usual nightmares of Voldemort or dementors. Harry had taken the dreamless sleep potion offered to him. Although that stopped his nightmares, it did' seem to stop all dreams like it was supposed to do.

The dream he had tonight wasn't bad. Harry had dreamt himself crying, then getting picked up and rocked by his mother. He remembered feeling as content as a baby could and lying his head on the gentle curve of his mother's arm and falling asleep to her voice. Though all the words sounded like gibberish. Then he looked up and instead of his mother, he saw Snape. More bizarrely, the dream Harry wasn't shocked or frightened, but snuggled deeper into the man chest.

That was when Harry woke and couldn't get back to sleep. He hadn't the foggiest whether the dream was a memory or a figment of his imagination. Could the dream really been reality? It wasn't the first time he remembered something from when he was a year old. After tossing and turning in bed for nearly an hour, Harry gave up and sat up in bed. The only light in the room came from the half-moon shining through the windows. Beside him, Ron was snoring loudly and all his housemates were sound asleep.

The Gryffindor swung his legs off the bed, put on slippers and slipped on a jacket. He grabbed his wand and the marauder's map and ventured out into the hall and casted a dim light. Walking settled his mind, especially in the quiet halls of Hogwarts at night, when there was no one to stare at him or gossip about him. He was more careful this time, brining he Marauders map with him, so he didn't run into Snape again.

Feeling significantly better already, Harry picked up his speed and took his attention off the map for but a minute when…

"Mr. Potter. Do you ever intend to follow the rules of curfew?" said an unmistakably silky voice.

Harry swung his body around to find Snape standing there with a light glowing from his wand.

Harry gulped. "Professor. I…I'm sorry."

"Couldn't sleep again, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head, but he was rather surprised at the professor's tone of voice. Usually, Snape would immediately yell at him, take points and drag him back to Gryffindor tower while sounding off his many in competencies. But, now the man sounded like he was worried. Maybe it was sleep deprived brain playing tricks on him.

"Did you drink the dreamless sleep?"

"Yes, sir. I did but…"

"That should have stopped you from having any more nightmares."

"It wasn't a nightmare…really, sir," said Harry, hunching his shoulders. "It was…it was just strange, that's all. You were in it and I was…a baby."

Severus didn't know what to say. There was silence for a long time, as student and teacher, stood facing each other, neither knowing quite exactly what to say.

"Was it a …" Severus began. Was it a nightmare? He dreaded to know. "…nightmare?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "not exactly, sir"

Severus frowned. What did that mean?

"Not exactly? What was this dream about?" Severus asked, though he suspected that the dream was not a pleasant one.

Harry lifted his eyes to look at his professor. Wondering if the professor was asking him or ordering him to answer? He was still utterly bewildered by the dream. It was probably just nothing. Strange things happened in dreams; the unbelievable, unfathomable, and physically impossible things were possible in dreams. Despite Harry's attempts to convince himself that it was just a silly dream, the boy had a sense that it wasn't just a dream.

"You do not have to answer, Potter."

Harry continued to look at Severus and Severus could see the conflict in the teenager's eyes. He was confused and very apprehensive. Then, the boy looked away.

"Forget it, Mr. Potter," Severus sighed. Of course it would be a bad dream, what did he expect? He had secretly hoped Harry would choose him as his confidant. The hope was unrealistic and absurd. Five years of belittling and torment could not be made erased just like that. There was no way he expected the boy to share anything with him, especially when he had so many other people in position to offer assistance and advice.

The dream was clearly a bad one, and the boy was just too afraid to tell him. For the first time in a week, Severus felt ashamed of himself because of Harry.

"Let's get you back to your dormitory. You should not be out of bed at this hour, Mr. Potter. You should know that by now."

They exchanged no more words as they travelled the long halls back to Gryffindor Tower. Severus spent the whole time wishing the de-aging had never happened, wishing that he had refused to babysit Harry. Then, none of these feelings would exist and he would have such a bloody heart…headache.

When they arrived at the tower, Severus promptly took five points from Gryffindor. He turned with grace and marched down the hall with billowing robes.

Harry grumbled under his breath at the lost points, but was thankful it wasn't anymore. He honestly suspected Snape to take at least twenty and give him detention.

"Professor Snape? Wait." Harry shouted after Severus when he was half way down the hall. Severus turned and arched a questioning eyebrow at Harry.

"It was a good dream."

Severus nodded. He showed no outward expression but his heart was filled with relief.

o0oo0oo0oo0o

It has been several weeks since Harry recovered and the teen decided that whatever happened, happened and there was no reason why he couldn't enjoy things the way it is now. One less person in the world that hated him was one less person he had to worry about. If only he could get Umbridge to like him, as disturbing as the image that invokes. Curiously, the idea of hugging Snape wasn't as ghastly as the idea of hugging Umbridge.

It was now late November and the snow was piled up to Hagrid's knees. Harry joined his housemates in the Quidditch field, making snowmen and flinging snowballs at each other in an epic combat. Then, somebody suggested that take the battle to the sky. Harry didn't know how it would work, but he raced off to grab his Firebolt anyway.

Taking the stairs two at a time, the Gryffindor was in and out of his dorm within seconds. Tearing back through the halls, Harry ran straight into a statue, his shoes squeaked on the floor and he felt backwards on his bum.

"Oof."

"Potter, for heaven's sake, watch where you are going!"

Harry looked up to see it was not an immovable statue that he'd run into, it was the potions master.

"Sorry professor," Harry apologized sheepishly as he got up and tried in vain to dust the dirt off of his robes, which were now mud thanks to his wet clothes. "Sorry."

"No harm done," Severus grunted, scanning the dishevelled teenager in front of him. "Enjoying the snow, are we?"

"Ah, yes sir," Harry replied in a fluster. "I love the snow."

"I can see that," Severus grumbled, shaking his head at the state of Harry's clothes. He took out his wand and gave it a quick swish and flick.

Immediately, Harry felt goosebumps over every inch of his skin. "Bloody…"

"Language!" Severus warned. He pocked his wand and crossed his arms. "Better?"

Harry looked down at his robes and ran his hands over his arms and torso.

"I'm dry!" He proclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, Potter. Madam Pomfrey has 9 patients to keep her busy around the clock, all suffering from the flu. She does not need another patient, especially if that patient is you. At least try to stay out of her infirmary. You've been in there more than enough times this year and it is not yet mid-term."

"I…yeah, sorry," Harry mumbled guiltily.

"Good," Severus nodded curtly. "I haven't seen you out of bounds yet. Does this mean you are no longer breaking that particular rule, or have you only gotten better at eluding detection?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I've been sleeping better. The potion helped."

"How much have you used?"

"Nearly all of it now."

"Very well, come to my office tonight. I will give you some more."

"Really?"

"That's what I said. However, you should not rely on the potion to do the work for you. Dreamless sleep masks the symptoms, it does not solve the problem," Severus stressed.

"I know. But I haven't had to use the potion all that much. I drank most of it in the first week, but, I haven't needed so much since," said Harry. "I guess I haven't thanked you for this yet, sir. But you were right, talking to my friends did help."

Severus nodded in acknowledgement. "Now all you have to do is find an adult to talk to."

"That's easier said than done, sir." Harry replied. "Um, sir? I was wondering…?"

"Wondering what?"

"Could it…I mean, is it possible that I could remember what happened when I was de-aged. I mean, during the time I was de-aged."

Severus shook his head. "It is unlikely, why do you ask."

"I remember…some things," Harry began.

"You do?" Severus asked, intrigued. It wasn't unheard of for de-aged patients to have two sets of memories. One set of original memories and one set from their de-aging experience. This created turmoil in the individual and often led to denial and rejection of one of the memory, more often than not the de-aging memory was the one to be discarded. But Harry was de-aged to such a young age. How could he possibly remember anything?

"Yeah. I mean, at least I think so."

"Explain."

"Well, I've been having these dreams," Harry began tentatively. He wasn't sure if he was ready to tell Snape about the dreams. "Not bad once, not nightmares I mean...they're dreams about you. "

Severus' brows bumped together in a frown. "The same as the ones you had when I caught you out of bounds a two weeks ago?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "But I feel like that these aren't normal dreams. They feel more like memories."

Severus thought for a moment before responding. "How do you know these are memories and not just dreams?"

"I don't know. That's just it, it's really confusing. The dreams…memories, they are really vivid. But I don't know what to make of them. It's just…I don't know, I've just got this feeling."

"You have…a feeling?" The potions master asked, intrigued.

"Yea...can I go now sir?" Harry asked, suddenly dropping the matter entirely. He bowed his head and avoided looking in Snape's direction.

Severus wanted the pursue a line of questioning but sensed that wasn't going to get anything else out of Harry.

"Alright. Get along now, child."

Harry flashed a small smile. "Thanks, sir," the Gryffindor ran past the Potions Master.

Snape nodded again.

Harry ran off, positioning his Firebolt so that he could mount it as soon as he was outside.

The potions master couldn't help but wonder if stranger things will happen before the school year is over. "

"You are welcome, Harry," Severus said as he watched the Gryffindor run and looked out to see the boy take to the sky on his firebolt.