"What the bloody hell?" Ron muttered in disbelief as Hermione squealed, "Harry!"

"Mr. Potter!" called out Professor Flitwick. "You need only to establish the charm; please do not cause a flood in the classroom!"

Startled from his preoccupation, Harry stared from his thunderstruck friends to the torrent of water gushing from his wand.

"Finite!" he shouted.

The flow of water stopped immediately, but Harry's eyes grew wide with shock when he turned around and saw Professor Flitwick standing ankle deep in the water.

"Professor ... I'm so sorry. I'll fix it." Harry panicked and incanted, "Evanesco!"

All the water disappeared. However, so did every bit of detritus that had been lurking about in the classroom. An odd sucking sound was heard and felt by all as every spec of dirt, lint and dust disappeared from the floor, the tables, the student's clothes and every nook and cranny.

The students, Professor Flitwick and Harry stood stock still as they all tried to determine what had just taken place.

"Mr. Potter!" The tiny professor walked briskly over and reached up to grasp Harry's hand, encouraging him to lower his wand. "Mr. Potter?" He repeated in a calm tone of voice.

Shaken, Harry looked down at the tiny wizard; it seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion. "Yes Professor?"

"I think that's enough for today. Perhaps it best you take your seat."

"Yes sir." Harry felt a bit dazed. He walked to his desk and heard faintly as Flitwick called out for the other students to resume the practical. He did not however notice his professor cast a Patronus charm and send it flying out the classroom door.

The Aguamenti charm had been the lesson topic for this first Charms class of the semester. Most of the sixth year students were only managing sporadic drips to piddling dribbles of water. But Harry, his thoughts absorbed with all that had been discussed during the Headmaster's meeting that previous evening and anxious over his upcoming Occlumency lesson with Snape, had barely paid attention during the lecture and then failed to notice his overt success at casting the charm.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Harry sat down and lowered his head. It was one thing to lose control of his magic in private or in front of the Dursley's, but to have lost control in Charms?

He was beyond embarrassed he was humiliated, but he also knew he needed to calm down before something else happened. Not sure what to do, he decided to concentrate on taking steady breaths. Counting to ten had helped Hermione the other day, so he gave that a go as well. The breathing and counting seemed to work and his panicky feeling abated. Unfortunately, his goal of avoiding any further humiliation failed when the new DADA professor walked into the classroom.

Channon Jackson, his expression neutral, was the epitome of composure as he stood and listened to Filius relay the events of the Aguamenti fiasco. When the tiny Charms professor finished Jackson quietly asked Harry, who was now mortified beyond words, to accompany him from the room.

This escorted exit from a class marked the second such occurrence to have taken place only three days into the new fall semester.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"Why don't you shrink your book bag Harry and put it in your pocket," suggested Channon.

"Professor, I'm really sorry about all of this."

"Not to worry, not to worry."

This wasn't the way Harry had wanted to start things off with his new DADA professor. Dumbledore had said so many good things about Jackson that Harry was actually looking forward to Defense classes this year. Defense and Quidditch were, in his opinion, the only things he did well and now look what happened. He probably thinks I'm a total dolt. "Where are we going, sir?"

"I thought we'd take a walk. I want to talk with you for a bit."

Yeah, I bet you do. "Yes sir." They were descending the great stairway when it finally dawned on Harry that the professor had been calling him by his first name.

Dumbledore had approached Channon two months previous, imploring him to take a sabbatical from his duties as an Unmentionable and come teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He'd explained how the students had fallen terribly behind in Defense, one of the ramifications of the nightmarish tenure of Dolores Umbridge, and that he wanted Channon to work with them and bring them back up to speed.

Then on the first day of school, spurred by the attack upon Harry Potter and his episodes of wild magic, the Headmaster had sought out Channon once again, this time asking him if he would be willing to become a sort of personal trainer to the young wizard.

Harry hadn't spoken much during the meeting that previous evening, but Dumbledore had already told Jackson a great deal about the "Boy Who Lived."

Channon had taken immediately to Harry, sensing the young wizard's sincerity and good heart and he personally welcomed the opportunity to be able to help this person who was destined to save their world.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

The duo walked until they reached the lake. It was now late afternoon and rather warm outside. The Professor stopped to remove his robe and suggested that Harry do the same. After shrinking their robes, they continued walking along the shoreline. Then Channon asked Harry to retell, in his own words, what happened during Charms. He'd postulated a reason for Harry's dilemma and after hearing Harry's accounting, he determined his theory was correct.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Professor?"

Jackson paused, "Listen, when you and I are working together, I would prefer you just use my first name, all right?"

His request, although surprising, immediately put Harry at ease. "Yes sir. I mean, okay … Channon."

The Eurasian wizard smiled brightly. "Super. Let's keep going." They resumed their walk. "Now Harry, please tell me what you think magic is."

"What magic is?"

"Yes."

Harry thought for a moment. "Magic is .... well, magic."

"Could you be a bit more specific?"

Harry suddenly wished Hermione was there with them. "Um, well." Then an idea struck. "I know ... magic is power."

"Better; but try to be even more precise."

Harry thought and thought about what magic could possibly be. The longer he thought about it, the slower his pace became until finally he just stopped and stood there in disappointment for having failed this first test. "I guess I don't know what magic is."

Channon gave him a pat on the back, "Don't worry about it." Then he looked out across the lake, "Why don't we go sit down on that rock over there?"

They maneuvered across an outcropping of large rocks that reached far out into the water; at the very end was a large flat boulder.

Channon sat down, removed his shoes and socks and plunked his feet into the water.

Not sure what to make of this, Harry decided to just sit down next to him. They were quiet for a while as each wizard took in the quiet stillness of the water.

Eventually, Channon tossed a small stone into the water. "Do you know what causes the water to ripple when a rock is thrown into it?

"Well, I think it's called displacement or something like that."

"You're right. But exactly what is making the ripples occur?"

Harry paused, and then offered a timid guess. "Energy?"

Channon smiled enthusiastically, "Excellent Harry! It is indeed energy." He tried once more. "Now, let me ask you again; what is magic?"

It seemed so obvious now. "It's energy. Magic is energy, right?"

"Yes, magic is energy." Channon continued with a passionate zeal, "Harry, everything in the universe has this energy: the planet, the trees, the water, even this rock that we are sitting on — they all have this energy."

This was a novel concept to Harry. He thought about everything having its own energy and he tried to grasp what that might imply. Then, the memory of what had just happened earlier in class surged back into his mind. "Yeah but Channon, this rock doesn't go around flooding classrooms, and I don't think a tree would break all the windows in my Uncle's house."

"No, they wouldn't," he paused for effect, "but neither are they you."

"Excuse me?"

"Harry, you must realize that you possess a tremendous amount of this energy, or as we like to call it — magic. This isn't a bad thing; it's a good thing."

"Not if I can't control it." Harry picked up his own pebble and threw it out into the water. "I don't know why it's getting worse."

"How old are you?"

"I just turned sixteen last month."

Channon held his hands out to the side as if to say — Well there you are.

"What do you mean?" Harry imitated the motion. "I don't understand."

"You'll soon reach the age of majority."

"Yeah, I know; I'll legally be able to do magic whenever I want."

"There is a bit more to it then that."

"What?" He was growing more and more perplexed by the second.

"Harry," the expression on his face marked his surprise at Harry's naivety, "you'll come into your full power."

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with not being able to control my magic? Everyone gets their full power at seventeen, but you don't see them going around accidently making the castle shake."

The professor sighed with exasperation. "Not- everyone- is- you," he emphasized each word for effect.

"I know," his voice sounded very small. "I always mess up in class, get into trouble, and..."

Channon interrupted Harry midsentence, "No wait, you misunderstood me. I'm not talking about grades or school rules; I'm talking about the enormous amount of magic you possess." He looked imploringly at the baffled young wizard. "Hasn't anyone ever spoken to you regarding this possibility?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Harry shouted in frustration.

"I can see that!" Channon leveled right back.

Harry gasped. "Oh Merlin, I yelled at a professor. I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean ..."

"Don't worry about it." Channon patted Harry on his shoulder, "I know you've been through a lot this week."

Then he pulled out his wand and pointed it toward the castle. "Expecto Patronum." A large silver tiger erupted from the end of the wand and flew up toward the Headmaster's tower.

Harry watched with amazement as the powerful Patronus sailed off out of view, then turned and looked questioningly at his professor.

Channon cleared his throat and took a determined breath. "Harry, I am going to explain everything to you, right here, right now. You must understand exactly why you are having these surges, and that you are not alone in this phenomenon."

His hand was still on Harry's shoulder and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll teach you how to deal with your growing power."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Almost two hours later, Harry and Professor Jackson came strolling into the Great Hall for dinner. Harry headed toward Gryffindor table while the DADA professor made his way up to the high table.

"Where have you been?" asked Ron when Harry sat down next to him. "The Headmaster told us you'd be late and not to worry, but nothing else."

"I fixed a plate of food for you and placed a Warming charm on it," added Hermione.

"Thanks Mione, I'm starving." He noticed she'd included a rather large spoonful of vegetables. Sidetracking the vegetables, he dove in on the roast and potatoes.

"Are you going to tell us what made you so late for dinner?" Hermione pressed.

Harry swallowed quickly, "Why didn't you two tell me what a great teacher Cha... Professor Jackson is? "

"Just when were we supposed to do that? Let's see…" Ron stared at the ceiling while precariously waving around a spoonful of chocolate gateau. "Were we supposed to tell you during the two minutes we were allowed to see you Monday night? or perhaps on Tuesday when we were all in class and you were still in the infirmary; or how about Tuesday night, when you were in your meeting with the Headmaster, Snape, Channon and McGonagall?"

"Okay, okay ... I get the point." He decided to give the vegetables a try, "Anyway, he's great. He explained everything to me."

Harry then relayed to his friends what the professor had explained regarding his wild magic.

Hermione had been about to take a sip of pumpkin juice, but she stopped and stared in surprise while holding her glass just inches from her lips.

"You okay there, Mione? asked Ron.

"I'm trying to recall if I've ever read of such occurrences." She set down the glass, "Certainly there should be something of this phenomenon mentioned in Modern Magical History or one of our Magical Theory books."

"I don't think it would be," Harry answered, "cause' it doesn't happen very often. According to Professor Jackson, this has only happened to Merlin, Dumbledore, Voldemort and now… me." Harry ducked his head with embarrassment as he finished this proclamation.

"Wow," commented Neville, "you must feel so important."

"I wouldn't put it that way," Harry sighed. "Mostly, I feel relieved, cause' I really thought I was starting to lose it."

Harry continued to eat his dinner, content to just listen as his friends chatted about his extraordinary measure of magic, his approaching majority and how all these magical surges were just a hint of what his ultimate magical level would be, and how only a handful of wizards had ever experienced magical surges during this stage.

Harry was so relieved to finally have an explanation for his wild magic, he found he actually had an appetite. Working away at the large plate of food Hermione had prepared for him, he contentedly stared off at nothing in particular while all the discussion continued on around him; his friends voices were a mere buzz in the background of his reverie.

The sound of scraping benches snapped him out of his daze; only then did he realize that he had been staring straight at Anthony Goldstein, who in turn was returning the gaze.

Anthony winked and offered a subtle, wispy grin, just before raising his tall, statuesque frame from off the bench. He passed a lingering glance over Harry before turning to leave the Great Hall.

Harry quickly dropped his gaze back down to his now empty plate, feeling awkward at the sudden fluttering sensations he was feeling.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

As Friday's sixth year Transfiguration class drew to a close, the students began packing up books and stowing away parchment and quills. "Attention, please," Professor McGonagall clapped her hands to restore some order. "Next week we shall begin our study of human transfiguration. Please read chapter two in your text and prepare a two foot long synopsis which I will collect on Tuesday. Your synopsis iwill/i be graded. Have a nice weekend." She ended in a cheery voice.

Ron immediately started complaining about the assignment. "I can't believe she gave us all that work to do over the weekend. I was hoping we could get in some serious Quidditch practice."

"I think we should use this free period and go straight to the library," suggested Hermione. "We could at least get the reading finished by suppertime."

"Can't." Harry quickly stowed away his copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration. He cast a surreptitious glance before continuing in a whisper, "This is my scheduled session time with Helena."

"Oh, no worries mate. We'll cover for you."

"Thanks Ron."

"We'll see you at supper," added Hermione. "Come on Ron, you and I can get started on the assignment".

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed as Harry raced out of the classroom.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

High on the seventh floor, down the quiet corridor which housed the entrance to Headmaster's office was a sitting room, located just past the Gargoyle. Sparingly used, the Headmaster had the elves prepare this room as a comfortable, private location for Harry and Helena to conduct their continued sessions.

Entering the room, Harry saw Helena already seated in one of the richly upholstered chairs, sipping on a cup of tea. "Hi Helena, sorry I'm late."

"You're not late. Why don't you get yourself a cup of tea and relax a bit before we start."

She watched him prepare a cup, "You're looking so much better then you did on Tuesday. How is your breathing?"

Harry sighed as he sat down with an iOomph/i, "Oh, fine. Really, I feel good."

"Well, I'm relieved to hear that."

"Yeah, me too."

"And how are your classes going?"

He took a sip and squirmed in his chair a bit before answering, "Well, aside from missing the first two days caus' I was in the infirmary, and then flooding the Charms classroom on Wednesday, everything else has gone pretty well."

Helena's raised eyebrows told Harry that his smoothing over of events was not going to slip by without being discussed. By the time he'd finished repeating the conversation he'd had with Professor Jackson and all the implications and relief it entailed, then thoroughly hashing out Harry's own thoughts and emotions on the subject, nearly an hour had past.

"I must say, you seem very composed for such a monumental realization."

"Helena, to be honest — I'm relieved. For a while there I thought maybe Voldemort had something to do with the wild magic. But it isn't him, it's me; and Professor Jackson is going to help me learn how to deal with it. I have my first private class with him tomorrow morning."

"I'm happy for you, Harry. Now, our time is almost up; is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

The incident with Anthony flashed through his mind, but he didn't dare bring up that topic. Then there was the ever looming, dreaded Occlumency session with Snape later that evening. "Well yeah, there is."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to have an Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape this evening. My lessons with him last year ..." he lowered his head, "didn't go very well." His voice trailed off as he finished his sentence.

"Yes, you mentioned this during one of our sessions at the Burrow."

"Oh yeah, I guess I did."

"As I recall, you felt that Professor Snape's instructions were vague."

"You could say that again."

"Why don't you simply ask him to please present his instructions using different verbiage?"

Harry's head shot back up. "You're kidding, right Helena? Me? Ask Snape to use … what did you say — different verbiage? I think he'd shrink me and stick me in one of those jars he has sitting all over the place."

She laughed. "Just give it a try, Harry. Of course, phrase the request in your own words, and be polite."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I could give it a go."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Earlier that week, Dumbledore had approached Professors Snape, McGonagall and Jackson to go over the details of his plan for Harry's training.

As Harry's Head of House, Minerva was briefed on the increasing episodes of magical surges, the additional training he'd be receiving and the scheduled times for such. Channon Jackson would work with Harry one on one, teaching him the tools he'd need to deal with his ever growing power. Then, turning to Severus, Albus implored that he resume teaching Occlumency to Harry. The threat from Voldemort still existed; the ongoing headaches were a constant reminder that the Dark Lord was out there somewhere, biding his time.

To the Headmaster's surprise, Severus had actually embraced the task, seeing it as an opportunity to hopefully make amends for his past injustices.

That however, had proved easier said than done. Though his desire and intent were sincere, Severus's ability to teach was not one of his fortes. By his own admission, he was no teacher; he maintained this role as a means to carry out his duties for the Order. He was a researcher at heart; whether or not the students learned the art of Potion making was of little concern to him. Those with talent would grasp the knowledge and learn the needed skills; those that didn't— well, they'd do better concentrating their efforts elsewhere. No, this assignment of teaching Occlumency to Harry would mark the first time in his career as a professor that he honestly wanted to succeed in teaching a skill.

In the days following the meeting, Severus had devoted numerous hours of contemplation and painstaking revisions to develop the methodology he would use. He was determined for a successful outcome this time around with Harry.

It was Friday evening. Severus was sitting at his desk grading a pile of essays from the third year Potions class: Suspension Solution, or Pot of Poison?

Casting a Tempus, he noted that only six minutes remained until the scheduled first Occlumency lesson. Putting the essays aside, he stood up, stretched his tall lean frame and then began to pace slowly around his office, casting frequent glances toward the door.

On the other side of Snape's office door stood Harry; he'd arrived fifteen minutes early, determined not to be late. He was also just as determined to stay calm in order to keep a handle on his magic. iNotin front of Snape; I will not lose control in front of him./i

He was taking steadying breaths as he counted: four beats on the inhale, four beats on the exhale. He didn't know what else to do, but this seemed to help. He'd cast Tempus after Tempus while staring at the door, waiting, taking his breaths and counting. It was now eight o'clock. The time had come. Harry raised his hand — and knocked.

When Severus opened the door, both stood and stared at the other as each were immediately uneasy at being in the other's presence. This was the first time they'd been alone, at least to Harry's recollection, since that fateful Occlumency lesson last semester.

"Come in, Mr. Potter."

Harry quietly entered the office, keeping his sight lowered to the floor. "Good evening, Professor."

With Severus's newfound awareness of Harry's history, he could now see the obvious diffident nature of the teen. Unfamiliar, rudimentary seeds of compassion arose in his heart as the shame of his past transgressions washed over him anew.

"Please follow me." Heading off with Harry following warily behind, the two entered Severus's side chamber. This room was in complete contrast to the office they'd just left and Harry was awed by its elegance.

The walls were paneled in oak, stained a deep mahogany color and highly lacquered. Row upon row of books lined two of the walls; a fireplace occupied yet another. The floor was covered with a beautiful Persian rug, its designs portrayed in colors of emerald and silver. In front of the crackling fire, were positioned two dark green wingback chairs.

"Wow." Harry whispered.

"Please sit down, Mr. Potter."

"Yes sir." Harry looked all about the room as he went to sit down and was startled yet again, when Snape turned from the sideboard carrying two cups.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, sir." Stunned by the kind gesture, Harry took the offered cup and watched as Snape sat across from him. If he hadn't known what to make of Channon using his first name, he was at a complete loss over Snape being downright cordial.

iPerhaps this is a trick. Maybe he's trying to catch me off guard, Harry thought as he now looked down at the liquid in the cup with suspicion.

"It's Chamomile tea, Mr. Potter." Severus said plainly. "I thought it might help us to relax a bit."

Harry took one small, tentative sip and then waited for some sort of reaction; but nothing happened, so he tried another.

As Harry worked on trying to relax, Severus was busy gearing up for one of the most challenging undertakings he'd ever faced — apologizing to Harry Potter.

Severus had stood face to face with Voldemort, practiced Occlumency against him and outright lied to him. He'd killed and committed other atrocities he dare not recall. But to apologize alluded to vulnerability, and that was something Severus adamantly avoided.

Keeping an eye on the young man before him, Severus waited until Harry had visibly relaxed before proceeding. "Mr. Potter."

"Yes sir?" So much for tea, Harry thought, Here we go.

"Before we proceed, I wish to acknowledge my mishandling of these lessons last semester. I admit the impetus driving my egregious endeavors was vicious, but far worse; I was acting upon misguided conceptions of you. I offer you my repentance and assure you that henceforth, my aim toward a positive result will be genuine."

Bewildered at the volley of words that had just sailed his way, Harry simply stared at his dreaded Potions professor. Although Snape had spoken in circles, it seemed as though he'd just apologized to him.

He sat motionless for a few moments, and then he slowly set down his cup, stood up, walked over to one of the bookcases then leaned against it.

"Are you unwell, Mr. Potter?"

What's going on here? Harry wondered, bewildered. Why did he do that? He turned to face Snape. "Why would you apologize to me now, Professor?"

The apology had been difficult enough. To go into his reasons was not something Severus cared to pursue. "Things have changed," he offered with a slight tip of his head.

"What things? Not me, I'm the same person I've always been."

Harry's straightforward words cut through Severus' masquerade. There was no verbal dance to counteract sincerity. Now it was Severus' turn at bewilderment; again, something to which he was not accustomed. Being an accomplished spy, he excelled at ploys, facades and emotional manipulations. He found this entire business of emotional honesty alien, but avoiding it was fast becoming impossible.

On a personal level, Severus was determined to make amends, but beyond that lay a greater issue, that being the fate of humanity. Harry was one of if not the most powerful wizard alive, and he had been prophesied as being the only one capable of defeating the Dark Lord. But to survive Harry needed to learn Occlumency, and Severus was determined to teach it to him.

Even so, Severus was no fool. Occlumency and Legilimency were both perilous, yet delicate. To work with a student so powerful would create the distinct possibility of exposing private thoughts and experiences. His solution around this threat the previous semester had been to use the Pensive, but that had been a folly; he could see that now. No, to truly succeed Severus would have to set aside his safeguards and instead venture into that unfamiliar, dangerous realm of emotional honesty.

"No Mr. Potter, you haven't changed, but I have." Severus rose and walked over to the young wizard.

"I have been terribly unfair to you these past five years. I used you as a convenient scapegoat for my resentment toward your father, and other personal issues. I regret my actions and I wish to apologize to you. You have no cause to forgive me; to be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if you chose not to do so."

Harry stared up at his professor. "I want to apologize to you too, Sir."

Severus actually started at Harry's unexpected response. "Whatever for?"

"That last lesson, when I broke into your mind, I didn't mean to do it. I've never told anyone what I saw, and I'm sorry it happened, and..."

Severus raised his hand. "I realize that was an accident." He paused, then lowered his hand and held it out toward Harry. "May we start anew, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked down at his professor's offered hand and thought about everything that had been happening to him lately: the magical surges, Helena helping him gain insight, Dumbledore and now Snape reaching out to him. It was as if his entire life was shifting to take a new course. He knew of the prophecy and of his awaiting destiny. Perhaps, all these things were coming together to help him achieve it.

Hardly believing he was doing this, he slowly raised his own hand and grasped that of Professor Snape's.

As he stared at their clasped hands, Harry nodded and whispered "Okay." Then he lifted his gaze, allowing his emerald eyes to drift up and look upon his Professor as if for the first time.

~~~~~SH~~~~~