This isn't going to work any more. It was the third week of classes, fifth year. Harry had just gotten back his summer potions essay. Snape's usual rude comments and the reality of being a fifth year was suddenly striking him. It felt like a train in his face.

He needed this mark. Snape only took those who earned an "O" in OWLS into his NEWT class, and a NEWT in potions was required for entry into the Auror program. Harry had three goals in life. Snog Cho Chang, become an Auror and kill Voldemort, not necessarily in that order.

When the bell rang, he copied down the homework assignment and hurried up to the library. He was going to do everything within his power to make sure that he passed the quiz the next week with a high grade, one as good as Hermione's.

For the next week Harry rarely saw his friends. He spent his time in the library, reading the supplemental readings that Snape suggested they do. And he did the normal reading for the first time ever. It was surprising how much sense everything began to make as he read about it, getting better ideas and notes then he could have had himself.

The night before the quiz and the due date of the essay, Harry slaved over his notes and study questions. He didn't think that it was possible to put any more work into an essay. After all, he'd written it out several times, making sure all the words were spelled right and the ink didn't smear. It was well after midnight by the time he got to bed.

"Why you reading that?" Ron asked loudly the next morning at the Gryffindor table, his words nearly getting lost through his mouthful of toast and the orange juice that sprayed out of his mouth and towards Harry.

Harry looked up, a dark scowl on his face. "I'm studying Ron. Surely you've heard of it? Some of us want to pass potions and actually put some work into it." He turned away, burying himself back in the book and trying to memorize its contents.

Ron shook his head and didn't notice the bits of bread that fell out of his mouth. He wasn't sure why Harry was studying so much. At first he'd thought Harry had gotten a girlfriend, he was always hanging out in weird parts of the castle and coming back at all hours of the night.

"He'll come around-," Fred slapped Ron on one shoulder.

"-Eventually." George slapped his brother's other shoulder and sat down next to him, picking up a piece of buttered toast from his brother's plate. "Good." He said through a mouthful.

"Everyone gets like this at some point." Fred went on to explain.

"Yeah, they figure since its OWL years they'd better do some real work. It never lasts long." George finished. He wiped the crumbs off his face. "Thanks for the toast brother dear." He linked arms with Fred and the two wandered off to make trouble for a Second Year Slytherin.

Harry didn't hear anything his teachers said all morning. He spent his time reading and studying and quizzing himself. Most of his seats were in the back of classrooms and the Professors couldn't see. Professor McGonagall assignment them practical work in class, but Hermione managed to cover for him and he got his book away just in time as she approached the back of the classroom.

Potions was his only class after lunch. He rushed in as close to the bell as possible and hurried to his desk. The tests were already laid out. Harry pulled out his essay, a quill and a pot of ink. The essay he handed in to Snape and managed to get back to his desk a fraction of a second before Hermione. He flipped over the paper and let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Problem Potter?" The Professor's sarcastic tones carried over the entire classroom.

"No sir." Harry looked up quickly. He was having a hard time believing that he actually knew the answer to the first question, and the second question and almost all the questions on the test. It was a new experience and one that he liked.

Harry zipped through the questions and turned the page, actually surprised that there was no page after the one he was on. It had been so quick and so easy. He turned back to the front and read through his answers, correcting a few minor spelling mistakes and adding extra information he'd remembered. Two rows over he could hear the constant scratching of Hermione's quill and he wanted to look over and see if she'd finished. But he was determined to not give Snape any reason to think he'd cheated. He wanted the good mark so bad, more than he'd ever wanted to play Quidditch, but not more than he'd ever wanted to kill Voldemort.

Finally the bell rang and Snape stopped pacing around the classroom and stood at the front of the classroom, arms folded over his chest as he glared at the students placing their tests into a neat pile in front of him.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief as they left the class. "That had to have been impossible." He groaned. "He's going to work us like this all year, and claim it's all OWL prep when he just wants to fail us." He looked back at Harry. "Don't you agree?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought that test was pretty easy."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Same here. But what did you put for number twelve? I started going into the Snell principal but I wasn't sure. . ."

Ron tuned out his friends. He really couldn't have cared less about Potions or the quiz they'd just had. After all, it was over now, no reason to think of it until they got it back or until the final exam. He probably wasn't ever going to think about it again. There was no point.

Once they were back at the Gryffindor tower, Harry let himself relax. He played a game of Chess with Ron and talked to Angelina about the Quidditch practice schedule. It was not easy to explain to her that he was putting more work into his studies and that three practices a day just wasn't going to be happening. She almost kicked him off the team for that.

All evening Hermione had been bothering Harry. As soon as they'd got back she'd sat down at her table and started studying and doing homework and various reading assignments. It made him feel like he should be working on something too, but it didn't seem like there was anything to work on. They'd had a quiz, I'm rewarding myself for working. Harry told himself, but the words didn't even convince him.

Harry bit his lip and crashed onto the nearest unoccupied armchair. This system is only going to work if I keep at it. Stopping after one quiz isn't going to change anything. He got up off the armchair and shrugged off Ron telling him about a pick-up game of Quidditch after supper.

Hermione wasn't surprised when she heard the shuffling of feet stop in front of her. Plenty of younger students, and sometimes the older ones, asked her for help on a regular basis. But the last person she expected to see was Harry. Usually he and Ron only asked her for help with anything the night before it was due and there was no test and no essays until next week. But Harry was carrying his own books, Potions only she noticed, in his arms and meekly asked if there was any extra space.

"Um, sure." Hermione scooted her chair over and dragged her towering pile of books over a few inched. "Be my guest. What do you need help with?" She vowed inside her head to be patient and not get annoyed that her own study time was getting disturbed.

"Nothing." Harry looked slightly surprised. "I just wanted to get some work done."

The next week passed quickly and soon Harry was sitting nervously in Potions class. Snape lectured them, took points from Gryffindor, insulted Harry and took a few more points from Gryffindor. Harry let the insults slide off and took notes. He liked his notes, they had all the important information and were easy enough to read.

It wasn't until the end of class, while everyone was sweating over their cauldrons that Snape began to toss the essays and quizzes onto peoples desks. Harry's heart quickened every time Snape approached him, but the papers never were for him.

His were near the bottom of the stack, right onto of Hermione's and underneath Malfoy's. He clutched up the paper quickly glad that his potion was at the stage when he could turn off the flame. Nothing would prevent him from looking at his marks.

"I have marked your work the way it will be evaluated on the OWL." Snape's greasy voice seemed to wrap itself around the corners of the room. "Those of you who find getting a passing grade. . .difficult will most certainly fail your OWL, unless of course you are able to grow a brain."

Harry looked at his essay. It was just as covered in red ink as it usually was but at the top there was a spiny "A". This was the lowest passing grade, but it was a passing grade. Harry wanted to cry. He'd worked so hard and put so much time and effort into this essay. He deserved better than an "A".

The test was not the same story. Snape seemed to have taken off as many marks as was possible, but Harry smiled at the total. Seven marks from perfect and the "E" above it. At least here he'd managed a decent mark. It wouldn't get him into the Auror academy, but it was decent.

Ron groaned loudly as the trio headed back to the Gryffindor tower. He'd failed both and Snape had made several very nasty comments on his essay. Hermione was quiet, looking over her paper. Harry tried to find out how she'd done, but she was so tight lipped, he as surprised she was even capable of speaking.

That night studying was different. He poured all of his energy into writing his next potions essay. This time, I'll get Hermione to look it over before I hand it in.

And so things continued with Harry pouring his life into Potions and getting back scathing comments and poor marks. The next weeks passed quickly. Harry studied with Hermione every night, to the point where Angelina was fuming mad. And he quit the team.

"You can't quit!" Angelina stood in front of him, yelling loud enough that the crowd gathered to watch the drama was unnecessary. They could have heard from their dormitories.

"I just did." Harry opened his Potions book. "I take my studies serious. A NEWT is Potions is required to get into the Auror Academy, not Quidditch experience." He looked at his book and ignored Angelina for the rest of the night and the next few days too. But nothing she did would make him rejoin the team. They had to make due with Ginny Weasley.

Once the first of December hit Harry decided he couldn't stand it any more. He'd worked himself to death and neglected his other classes trying to improve his Potions mark and all he got for his trouble were nasty comments and low grades. "I've had it." He announced one day while leaving class. His latest essay was clutched in his hand. He'd gotten an "A" on it once again.

"Sir, I need help." Harry turned and walked right back into the classroom and dropped his books onto a desk.

The edges of the Professor's lips curled up in a strange grimace, almost like a smile. "The amount of help you need Potter is astronomical. However, you're better off talking to Madame Pomfrey about such things. I don't care."

"Snape, I need help with Potions." Harry called out as the man turned away. He continued in a rush of words. "I've studied and studied and none of it seems to help. I rewrite my essays until Hermione and I both think they're good and I do all the extra reading on top of whatever else you assign. I don't know what to do."

Snape was tempted to throw the boy out or send him to Dumbledore for begin such a brat. But his words seemed familiar to Severus. He remembered Lily ranting about Defence Against the Dark Arts in the same way. Her Charms work was amazing and she didn't see why there was a reason to learn a pile of new spells when charms would work just as well, if not better.

"Fine." He spat out, interrupting the Potter boy's flow of words.

Harry took a step backwards. He hadn't been expecting that answer and was ready to go to anyone else in the school for help. Going to his professor first just seemed like the right thing to do. "Whu, what? Snape, you can't be serious."

"That's Professor Snape to you and I assure you, I am completely serious. I trust that you are not returning home for the holidays?"

Harry hesitated, he could see Snape staring at him. The man obviously knew that he was planning to spend Christmas with Sirius, his first Christmas with a real family. "I- I don't know sir. I hadn't spoken to anyone yet."

"I will be holding lessons in fifth year remedial Potions everyday except for Christmas. Whether you are here or not is your businesses. Classes start at 9 o'clock and let out at 4 o'clock. Lunch will be held within the classroom."

Harry gulped and nodded. "Thank you sir."

Snape snorted as Potter ran from the room. He didn't expect that the boy would ever do anything that actually required work. The first day of holidays would be like all the others, empty. It seemed, to him at least, that the people who needed help were the least likely to seek it.

He closed the door to his classroom and sat at his desk, opening his mark book and pulling a stack of atrocious second year essays to mark. That helped release his stress better than any potion could have.

Dear Harry,

You want to do what? I understand how important becoming an Auror is to you, but there are other choices. Do you really want to spend Christmas with Snivellus?

Come home soon,

Snuffles.

Harry tossed Sirius's letter into the fire. He didn't want to read the immature words that Sirius had written out in his messy chicken scratch. That's it. I don't care what Sirus said. I'm getting that NEWT in Potions and I'll do whatever it takes to get it.

The morning after everyone had left for the Christmas holidays Harry got out of bed, stretching slowly. He'd been up very late the night before. Having a vision of Mr. Weasley getting bitten and then with standing Sirius raging at him.

But he'd stuck by his decision and now it was 8 o'clock and the first remedial Potions class started in one hour. Harry rolled out of bed and got dressed. He pulled a warm Weasley sweater on underneath his robes, it was awfully cold in the dungeons before heading down to breakfast.

Snape was surprised when someone knocked on his classroom door at 8:55 on the first day of Christmas holidays. He was relaxing in his chambers in front of a warm fire when the bell went off. Dumbledore had told him about Arthur Weasley's attack and he wasn't expecting Harry to show up at all, let alone on time.

He hurriedly pulled on his teaching robes, covering up a pair of insulated muggle jogging pants and a sweater. It was too cold to wear anything else in the dungeons. In the classroom, he cast a spell to unlock the supply cupboard and get out two cauldrons, then he opened the door.

Potter stood there, carrying all of his Potions books and plenty of supplies. At least the boy came prepared. Snape thought to himself. "Finally decided to arrive Potter? I thought you would lie abed all morning." He ignored the fact that Harry was early and he hadn't been expecting him at all.

Harry nodded. "I'm here sir. Ready to learn and work." He was grateful when Snape let him into the classroom and he could put his things down.

The morning consisted of a lecture. Harry took frantic notes and every time he tried to yawn or take a moment's rest, Snape was glaring at him. With a class of one, Snape always had his eye on him. Of course it meant that the professor was able to explain things that he missed or didn't understand. When he dared ask a question.

By noon Snape was ready for a break. He'd been talking for hours and wanted something to drink and something warm. Maybe even a warm drink. But he was impressed. Potter had stayed awake and on task. He'd even bothered to ask a few questions and even through Severus had glowered at him, the questions pleased him. Potter actually wanted to learn.

"That will be all." Snape finished up his last topic. "Lunch, then brewing." He waved his wand and the house elves in the kitchen sent down the food he'd ordered that morning. There was more than enough for two. Probably even enough to feed five or six adults. Or one Ron Weasley.

Harry's stomach growled as he loaded up a plate. Snape seemed content to eat in silence and he followed suit, wishing that he dared to talk and engage the man in a conversation. He wanted to get more information, mostly about Potions, but about the Order too. It's hard to believe he's a member at all! Harry thought while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Severus noticed Potter pouring himself a cup of coffee. Both of them knew that students at Hogwarts weren't allowed to have coffee, but neither said anything or did anything about it. They ate their soup and sandwiches in silence, drinking the coffee and finishing off the food with shortbread cookies.

"Brewing now." Snape flicked his wand at the board and made a recipe, one for a basic potion come into focus. The potion itself was simple enough but it required precision and close attention to the details and ingredients.

Harry took out his Potions kit and took out the ingredients and tools he needed before getting started. His hand had barely left the flame before Snape had something negative to say.

"You can't even turn on the cauldron Potter?"

Harry looked up. "I turned it on."

Snape sighed. "Fill the cauldron, then light the fire. Then the contents are heated more evenly, you're less likely to spill anything and no toxic fumes are produced from your potion base reacting with the fire. It's basic Potter."

Harry could have sworn that everything single time he did something the man complained. His cutting technique was wrong. His chopping made things diced and his crushed ingredients ended up pulped. It was aggravating.

But by the time the potion, a simple burn slave, was finished, Harry was amazed. It had taken them hours to finish one potion, but it was right. The colour, the consistency. He had a burn on his hand from all the splashing water and it soothed that. The potion even worked. Harry's face burst into a huge smile, but he felt like collapsing to the floor and falling asleep right then and there.

"Not bad. I'll see you tomorrow." Snape cleaned the room with a flick of his wand and left with another, leaving Harry alone in the classroom.

Harry sighed. It was going to be a very long two weeks. One Snape free day in the middle, but he expected that his devil of a Potions Professor would simply give him homework to do over the day-long holiday.

The next week was both a nightmare and a blessing. Harry worked harder than he ever had in his entire life, he fell exhausted into bed everything night. But at the same time he'd learned so much. More concepts and basic principals he'd skipped over from other years that were still hurting him.

And Snape went over all of his notes with him and criticized and complained, but Harry's notebook was organized now. He could find things based on unit. There was a table of contents and his notes were readable. Snape had even shown him a charm that acted as white out so he didn't have to rewrite his essay for every little spelling mistake.

Despite his original reluctance, Severus found himself enjoying the classes. Harry proved to be an interested and attentive student. He didn't fool around or space off. He paid attention and worked, a lot harder than Snape thought he was capable of working.

So he gave Harry Christmas day. No homework, no assignments, no reading, nothing. Just a, "Enjoy yourself. Sunday at 9." Before stalking out of the classroom and back to his chambers. The rooms seemed cold and empty compared to his classroom, even with the roaring fire in the grate.

Snape downed a warming potion and wrapped himself in a blanket before selecting a book and settling himself in front of the fire. It was a photo album. Severus let his tears fall onto the pages as he turned them carefully.

His eyes drank in images of Lily and himself, as children at home, then at Hogwarts and finally a picture he'd managed to steal and copy for himself. One of her and James at their wedding. The photo was carefully cut in half, so only the side with Lily was left. She smiled and waved out of the picture, filling his heart with both joy and sadness.

Once again, Severus wished that wizarding photos came in colour. He missed her eyes.

The last week of remedial potions was the same as the first, only faster. Harry seemed to get things now. He could answer sudden, unexpected questions correctly within seconds. Not as fast as Snape could have answered as a fifth year, but he was gifted with Potions.

They covered the rest of the material that would be on the OWL. But Snape didn't say that. He didn't tell Harry that after taking third years Potions, most of his students would be able to pass the OWL exam. He worked them hard and most could get into the Auror academy by writing then entrance Potions exam. It wasn't as hard as it looked.

When the last day finally arrived, Harry couldn't believe it was already over. He'd enjoyed himself at times, learned constantly and even though he missed Sirius, he knew that he could spend all summer with him. Plus, this was important to him and Sirius understood that.

His friends arrived and they hung out, not worrying about homework or classes or exams. There were still a few months before OWLs and even Hermione hadn't started to prepare yet. Harry didn't tell them much about his break.

Ron moaned and told Harry he understood. "It must have been awful mate. I can't imagine, spending all day alone with Snape. It'd be enough to drive anyone mad."

Harry had just shrugged and ignored Ron. He did that lot now and it hurt. Ron had been his friend for a long time, now all they did was play Chess and talk about school every once and awhile.

Hermione understood. She looked at his notebook and whistled before remodelling all of her notebooks in that format and copying all the extra notes he'd taken. There was an understanding that existed between them now, one that hadn't been there before.

"Good night Harry." Hermione got up, taking her books and papers, it was time for bed.

"Good night Hermione." Harry got up, but he didn't get his books. He leaned over and kissed her, quickly and on the cheek. But it was still a kiss. Then his face turned flaming red and he ran up the stairs to the boys dormitories.

Hermione just giggled quietly and put a hand to her cheek.

Harry still saw Snape from time to time. The memorial service at the end of the war, Harry could have sworn he felt a hand on his shoulder when they had talked about Sirius Black.

Harry had wanted to kill Snape the day that Sirius died. After all, he'd spent Christmas break with Snape instead of Sirius since he could see Sirius all summer. At that time, it all seemed like part of some great plan out to get him. Some plan that Snape had engineered.

But he'd come to terms with the death and realised that Snape had nothing to do with it. It had been his choice to study Potions over the break instead of spending time with his family. That made him hate himself instead of Snape, but he got over it.

After the war, he'd gone back to school. There had been a ceremony and NEWT results were given out at the end.

When Harry received his Potions NEWT certificate he looked out into the hall. At the back was a shadow. A shadow that looked very much like a man dressed in flowing, black teaching robes. A man who'd been dead for almost two years now.

In spite of seeing ghosts, he'd enjoyed the ceremony and joked with Hermione. Ron hadn't come back to school. He worked in the joke shop now, taking Fred's place. But no one actually said that out-loud.

That was the night that Harry proposed. He presented Hermione with the ring and asked her to be genius and answer the question. That night she received ten NEWTs and one gold wedding ring. And Harry knew which she liked the most.

Snape was at the wedding too. Harry had almost walked away from the altar and into the crowd. He wanted to know why the weird spirit, it wasn't a ghost, was always there. He hadn't had a deep emotional connection with the man. And he'd never really wanted one. His greaving was over with. Every reminder hurt and it was a hurt that he deserved to have disappear.

Hermione never saw Snape. But Harry swore that he was there so many times. When his daughter was born. They named her Lily. When his son was born, they named him Severus. When his children went to Hogwarts and became Slytherins.

The Retirement feast the Aurors held for him. The Welcoming banquet the year he started to work as the Hogwarts Potions Professor and Head of Gryffindor house. The days his children finished school and received their NEWT in Potions.

Harry began to accept the ghost like thing. It was a link to the past, a link to a time when there had been hard times, but there had also been friends and teachers and people that should have lived and people that should have died.

It wasn't until his last moment that Harry realised that the ghost wasn't Snape. It was him.