Wisps of snow swirled through the air a testament to the early winter snow that had arrived. People could be seen, noses red, cheeks rosy, and wrapped up in the many layers their mothers insisted on, enjoying the snow. Snowmen littered the grounds, but not only that. Magic was a wonderful thing and so sculptured fortresses and castles could be seen, as well as some of the more fantastical creatures. Laughter floated through the air and even the Professor’s had small lingering smiles on their faces, the student’s joy was infectious. Christmas was in the wind the swept through the grounds. Huge 12 ft. Christmas trees were to be seen around the castle. Christmas fairies could be seen twinkling everywhere, spreading their Christmas dust. Holly and mistletoe sprung up upon the unsuspected and there was a constant supply of cookies and warm milk for those who wanted. Even Professor Snape seemed almost humane.

But one boy sat huddled in a baggy coat two sizes too big for him huddled up against a tree staring across at the lake. He was hidden in the shadows, so no one bothered him or noticed how his lips were blue from the cold and his body was shaking with light trembles barely noticeable in the baggy garments he wore. His startling emerald eyes were glazed, watching as his consciousness forced his nightmares into his reality. His messy inky black hair was frozen and small icicles had formed on the ends, weighing it down. The sun was setting slowly, casting shades of red, orange and yellow upon him and forming rainbows as they refracted through the ice crystals. It was clear to anyone who was looking that he had been there long enough to seriously affect his health. Unfortunately, no one was looking. No one noticed the small waif like boy’s absence. Just like no one had noticed the slow state of depression taken hold of him and how withdrawn he had become the previous months since he had come back from the summer holidays. No, no one had noticed except for one.

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The great hall was filled with noise, full of merry students enjoying their dinner. There was raucous laughter heard from the Gryffindor table, cuddly, overly emotional students at the Hufflepuff area. The Ravenclaws were more relaxed than ever seen with their noses out of their books and even the Slytherins had small, if tense smiles on their faces. The Professors seemed to be basking in the lack of house rivalry for once.

However, one pair of obsidian eyes scanned the hall constantly searching for a glimpse of messy hair, or a flash of emerald eyes. He was well aware of the isolation the boy had drawn into the past months, perhaps more so than the others. He knew that Granger and Weasley had only eyes for themselves and that their close friendship with the Boy-Who -Lived had dissolved to a mere passing acquaintance. He knew that since his spying duties had been discovered he had been much more relaxed and that the students now saw him with respect rather than fear, though there would still be a few who would be scarred by his demeanour, such as Longbottom. But that’s couldn’t be helped now and all he could do was maintain a healthy distance, trying to help the clumsy boy. But Potter, he had always, even with his then dislike of the boy and his “other” profession tried to look out for the boy. He knew from the moment the child had stepped foot into the great hall, he would cause him great heartache. And Merlin above he didn't know how right he was. But now, he had to admit, he was very worried, though he didn’t show it. He was a master of Masks and he wore many to hide his true feelings. But the boy had sunk into an apathetic state, not responding too much, and not even the other Professors had noticed, not his dorm mates, not his supposed friends. And Snape could not help when a small worried frown graced his face as he looked on when the child didn’t respond emotionally to anything. It was like he had shut down. Apart from Snape, Poppy Pomphrey was the other who noticed the state the boy was falling in. She had approached him continuously but he had always managed to evade her clutches, no matter what she had tried, short of tying him down. And ever perceptive as Poppy was, she had seen past Snape’s masks, as per usual and came to him about her worries, seeing he was in the same situation as herself. He was fading and only Poppy and Snape could see it.

With a sigh he quickly and quietly left the table,rubbing his temples from the onset of a blinding headache that only Potter could cause, his dark green robes flaring out behind him. Despite him now being able to act however he wished, he didn’t like to admit it but he had a flair for dramatics and though he had certainly cleaned up his appearance, his hair was no longer lank and greasy and it was pulled back from his face. He still favoured dark colours, though he varied it and yes, he picked those with the best billowing effect. He was no longer the greasy bat of the dungeons, but a sharp and imposing authority figure that commanded respect.

Once in the entrance hall, he almost lost the calm composure he pertained, as a horrible constricting feeling gripped his chest. Something wasn’t right and like always, he knew it had to do with Potter. With a silent Patronus to Poppy, he told her to be on “High” Alert, which she knew as to “ be ready for Potter”, and he began his search. He swept the castle from top to bottom, Astronomy Tower, Kitchens, room of requirement and he even ventured in the hideous Gryffindor dorms. He came out shaking, composure totally collapsing once free from them. So much red! But Potter was not to be found. Students had retired to their common rooms at this stage, curfew was almost upon them and it was dark and no Potter. The feeling in his chest tightened, as it had done steadily for the past hour. He knew he was now racing against the clock. Something had happened to Potter and it was slowly killing him. Merlin blast it!

He had a theory that these chest pains were linked to the vow he had given Lily Potter to protect her son. He had gotten them every last time Potter's life was in danger and needless to say, they were a constant nuisance with the fact that trouble seemed to stalk him. Hence, his constant frustration with the boy for getting himself into those situations. He would never admit to himself that he was actually scared for the child rather than angry at him. He winced; a particularly painful spasm clenched his heart. He stopped to catch his breath. Time was running out. He needed to find the boy NOW! He was starting to panic, which was so unlike the Snape everyone knew. He wasn't one to panic and here he was loosing his head. He needed to take a few breaths and think calmly. He wasn’t anywhere in the castle, so ... that left the grounds! He sprinted towards the entrance hall; skidding to a halt in front of the heavy wooden doors and flinging them open, without any care for the magical wards that had been placed upon them by Dumbledore himself. He tore through them, like they were a first year’s abysmal potion’s assignment.

Once outside he shivered immediately. The air was sharp and the cold permeated right to his very bones. It wasn’t snowing, but it was knee deep in places making it awkward to traverse through. Where would that infernal child be? He hoped that he wasn’t out here all day, but a small tug at his heart placed the fear of Merlin inside him. He strained his eyes in the semi-darkness until they grew accustomed to it. It was a clear night, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky, and the moon full and quite eerie, cast the landscape in grey and silver monotones. He cast around for any inkling of where the child could be. In the distance he could see the Whomping Willow flailing about, dislodging any remnants of snow from it. The Forbidden Forest was hauntingly inviting, but he ignored, knowing it was just the prevalent magic feeding into the soul of the forest.

Suddenly, like an epiphany, though its effect was likened to that of running into a brick wall, he remembered all the times where he was literally the boy’s shadow, where he followed him around, making sure he stayed safe. He always wondered why the boy gravitated towards the outdoors and to one particular spot when he watched from afar. Yes! Of course he would be there. How could he have been so dense?

He sprinted towards the lake, the water serene and still, reflecting the full moon, casting odd shadows upon the surrounding vegetation. Almost as if hidden figures were moving just beyond sight in the forest, never venturing into the moon’s light. Veering to the far side, he hopped over a large boulder and lo and behold, he could just see the child, in the slight concave of the rock side. It was a strange sight to behold, even from here; he could that the child was shivering. But the surrounding trees seemed to almost bow their branches towards him, creating a sort of a shelter, protecting him. He had never seen them act in such a manner in particular to something that was not native to the Forest. A sceptic would say it was the wind, but the branches seemed to part slightly to let him through. He stepped into the small almost like a cubby hole, hurriedly and was again brought to a standstill. It was completely untouched by the winter. In fact it looked as if late spring was in full bloom. Flowers, plants and vines all wrapped themselves around the small waif of a figure, trying to lend their warmth. He even spotted some creatures curled up against him, staring at him, measuring him up, passing judgement. A small Sage Wolf cub, an extremely rare magical creature, bared his teeth at him as he attempted to proceed. He watched his every step, almost like a body guard. There were faeries, nifflers, baby hippogryffs, magical panther cubs, even a unicorn foal. But what seemed to be the leader was a massive ice blue and silver phoenix, which was majestically presiding over the assortment of creatures. It was beautiful, on par with Fawkes, the Headmaster’s phoenix. However powerful she was, it was clear that Po-Harry needed urgent medical attention, something the regal Phoenix couldn’t provide.

With a searching gaze, the Phoenix read into the depths of his very soul, and seeing something that not even the man himself knew he had in him, she chirped urgently and moved away, the other creatures following stead. With quick thanks, Snape finally could get a clear view of the boy and his heart thudded loudly in his chest at the sight of the child. The frail child was shivering uncontrollably, his skin was pale, lips and nails blue and dark smudges circled his eyes. His hair was completely frozen and weighed down and if one looked close enough, one would see that even his eyelashes had tiny icicles upon. He frantically check for a pulse, and was relieved when he finally felt one, though sluggish and seeming to slow by the very minute.

Without further ado, he scooped the feather like child into his arms and raced to the castle, leaping over the boulder. Never looking back, he barely noticed how nature itself seemed to aid his progress as even the snow seemed to melt in front of his very eyes. He didn’t even notice the trail of animals following behind him, like some sort of frantic and strange procession, keening sorrowfully, urging him on. As he raced towards the castle he was oblivious to all. Not the Professors arranged at the entrance hall, trying to determine the cause of the wards failure. Nor their wide eyed stress, mouths agape, as he rushed past them, with what looked like a bundle of rags cradled in his arms, followed by a trail of rare and wild magical creatures, deaf to all questions hurled at him. No he didn’t see. Not how Magic itself helped to try and save the life of the child, how he was almost a blur when he ran or how he glowed golden, allowing him no trouble from any magical hindrances. All that was on his mind was a desperate plea. A plea, begging and promising anything if anyone of any power would let this child live. “Merlin, please hold on Harry. Hold on!” he thought, as he melted into the darkness on the way up to the hospital wing, his steps echoing profoundly in the silence left behind. "Just hold on!"

“Merlin, Severus, what’s the matter? Has he taken…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No, no, he’s woken up.” He dismissed her statement frantically.

“Then what on earth?” she demanded, hand on hips, like an irate mother, scolding a naughty child.

“There seems to be something wrong. I don’t know, I’ve tried to get him to talk but he has just closed up completely, with this odd look on his face.” Severus seemed perplexed. “Poppy, could-could his brain be affected. You know, brain damage or something?”

“Aye, it could. But there was no previous evidence when I scanned him.” She walked over to the bewildered boy. He sat up slightly, arms folded, but his eyes were staring unnervingly with such intensity and in such a way, that she doubted he and she were seeing the room in the same way. She gently perched at the edge of the bed, beside the panther cubs, grabbing his attention immediately. Snape stood by, arms tense, straight by his side. He looked tired and drawn and worried. “Harry, dear, can you tell me if anything is wrong? Do you feel pain anywhere? Any weakness?”

He hesitated. It seemed like he was trying to articulate what was wrong and for a moment fear gripped their hearts, that his brain really had been affected. This wasn’t calmed by the boy’s next words. “Everything! Everything is wrong. Nothing is right. No, I feel no pain, no weakness. But everything is wrong!” He reiterated.

“Slow down child.” She placed a delicate hand upon his leg, and he seemed to flinch subconsciously. She and Severus shared a significant look, knowing that was an issue for a bit later. “OK, explain to me exactly what is wrong.”

Harry rubbed his temples in frustration, closing his eyes, then opening them and closing them again. “It’s hard to explain.” He whispered. “Every time I open my eyes I see a kaleidoscope of colours that seem to encase everything, all objects. In fact the only thing that seems ‘normal’ is that pen over there. It’s starting to give me a massive headache.”

Severus didn’t understand, but he did acknowledge that the boy was in need of a headache reliever and rushed off to get one. Poppy was, however, struck by what the child had said. She had only vaguely heard of what might be ailing the child. “Colours, you say? And nothing around this pen here?” She picked up said pen. Severus at this stage had returned and Harry had downed the potion in one disgusting swallow. He sighed in relief before tuning in again.

“Yeah, nothing around the pen at all. In fact…” he looked around the room, taking in every detail, “… even the walls seemed to be soaked in different colours. “

“And this is the first time this has manifested?” He nodded. You could see the excitement building within her. Her tight brown curls bounced as she bobbed her head, her cheeks were flushed a rosy colour and her eyes sparkled with mirth which had been absent the last couple of days. “Merlin, Harry, you’re seeing magic itself.”

She was met with a stumped silence. Harry sat wide eyed, awash with the multitude of colours that surrounded him. Several gold tendrils from the stony walls of the hospital wing, curled out tentatively towards him. He was mesmerized. Each colour, each strand, tendril, even texture seemed to tell a story. Convey a message. They swirled and twined together like weaves of thread creating a tapestry. They had sentience, an awareness of their surroundings. They were all separate and yet at the same time, as one, part of Magic herself, all sprung from the same source.

Madame Pomphrey broke his concentration. “Do not mistake this for seeing auras. This is totally different, than seeing auras, or bonds or such. This is so much more and yet there is not much known about it, as no one in the last 500 years or so has had a gift such as this. All knowledge was lost of it.” Her hands were constantly a flutter, always moving and expressing herself in her excitement. She rambled on, Snape was listening intently, but Harry was enthralled. As she twisted her wrist, letting her fingers flicker, small swirls and star bursts shot from her fingers like a miniature fireworks display, in greens and yellows. He zoned out, as he noticed that the whole room was in constant flux and motion. Colours were always changing, and magic was flaring up and falling back. It had become like the heartbeat of the room. One question though brought him right back to earth.

"…Will he be able to shut it off, or will he have to learn to live with it?” Snape inquired.

“Fortunately, there is a way to reign in your inherent magic that enables you to see this. Such a meditative state will do this, allowing you to switch it ‘on’ and ‘off’ at will, formally known as Occlumency.” she stated.

And then the room became thick with tension. Defiance bled from Harry’s posture as well as a bit of fear. The tendons in his hands could be seen straining as he held tightly to the blanket. He wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Snape was filled with reluctance. It was too fast. He was thrown into the deep end. He had planned to ease himself upon the boy, apologising for his hideous treatment of him in the past. He rubbed his temples in weariness. It was too fast, but there was nothing for it. “Poppy, can you give us a second?”

She nodded, aware of the sudden tension within the room. And then cast another significant look at Severus before leaving. He knew what she meant, he was to talk to him, or at least start gently, easing the boy into letting him help. After all he had experience in these matters and they were going to be spending an awful amount of time together if he were to start up Occlumency lessons again.

Harry was wary. Why the sudden attitude change with his most loathed Professor. And anyway, in all the excitement, he had completely forgotten about how in Merlin’s name he had ended up in the hospital wing. Gone was the fragile child that he held in his arms. Up were his masks.

“Po-Harry, I know this is abysmal but for what it’s worth I apologise for my, for lack of a better word, verbal abuse of you throughout the years. I don’t have an excuse for it except stupidity, but I ask you to allow yourself to forgive me, just enough to let me help you.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth Snape?” Harry all but sneered.

Snape didn’t even bother to correct the disrespect. He deserved it and a lot more. “You don’t.” he replied simply. “But I am willing to work with you now, with a clear mind and without prejudice. And face it, I’m not trying to be harsh, but honest, who else is there to help you.” He pointed out.

It was true. His friends had deserted him when he needed them most and his Professor’s turned a blind eye to his apathy, in favour of pretending everything was fine and dandy, even the Headmaster. He ran a hand through his messy hair in exasperation. “I’m willing to call a truce, for now.” He slowly enunciated. “But any hint of your previous attitude and that’s it.” Snape gracefully acceded. It would be the best he got.

“And now, how in Merlin’s name did I end up in the Hospital Wing. Again! And how come Madame Pomphrey didn’t immediately kick my friends out?” he queried pointing vaguely to his bonded.

That was a difficult question that would lead to more difficult questions. “I found you two days ago, by the lake, almost frozen solid, suffering from severe hypothermia and the beginnings of frostbite. Without your friends, and other circumstances, you most certainly would have died. Harry, you know Madame Pomphrey did an extensive scan to determine your injuries?”

Harry paled even more if possible. He had completely forgotten about that. He had secrets. Dark secrets, that bore marks upon his bare skin. No one could find out. Those were his secrets to take to the grave.

“Harry, she found old injuries and some more, not so old ones. How…”

And down Harry’s masks fell, leaving in place the delicate, broken child. “Don’t! Just don’t. You don’t need to know. Not yet. Trust hasn’t been established enough for it and besides I DON’T want to talk about it. “He closed his eyes, his young shoulders stooped in remembered pain and sorrow, his hands trembling from the suppressed emotion. “I owe you a life debt, Professor. But please, not yet.”

He nodded in acceptance of the child’s reasoning. It was too early yet. But he would bear watching in the meantime, because of the self-harm. “How about something lighter, to build trust. How did you meet your bonded there?”

And as quick as lightning, the boy returned to normal and a genuine smile lit his face. “Oh my bonded? They’re just my friends. When I wanted to just sit and think on my own, I go down by the lake. Have been for years. Anyway, I met them all at various points. Lia, the unicorn foal, I met first. She had injured her leg and I did what I could for. The panther cubs, Shadow and Mist, and Sal, the Wolf were both in similar situations. They had lost their mother to some forest creature and I nursed and weaned them. And Flora, the phoenix just appeared to me one day. I visit them regularly and they’ve all gotten on like a house on fire.” He smiled fondly at them all as they all fought for his attention. “They’ve helped me through some tough times. I don’t know what I’d do without them. It was like Fate that I met with them. I would sometimes just go down to my tree by the lake to think, end up napping and when I wake, dozens of flowers and plants would have sprung up. Or the trees would be green and luscious, despite being in the middle of winter. It was odd, but it became a place of my own.”

“You do know that they have all bonded to you. You can speak to them right? In your mind? They have amazing loyalty towards you. They lent you each a bit of their magic to help you need. Just like you seemingly do for the forest outside and its inhabitants, without thinking. No wonder they all had their part in saving your life.” Snape reasoned.

Harry smiled again, this time in wonderment. “I did always feel at home here in the castle and just as comfortable outside under the boughs of the trees.” A yawn forced its way from his lips. He was becoming tired from his exertion.

Snape didn’t miss a thing. He bowed his head slightly, “I’ll leave you to your rest. We’ll talk again Harry.” And with that he left with a small feeling of accomplishment. It wasn’t much but it was a start. Much more than he expected.

Harry rolled onto his side facing the window. He felt his friends, no his bonded settle against him comfortably. He watched as the inky sky lightened to a magnificent pink of the early morning. The sun rose slowly and majestically in the sky. The snow had stopped for the moment, leaving a blanket of soft down upon the earth. It still lay untouched by the day, a smooth expanse of white silk on the earth, dotted by the sun’s rays. Icicles decorated the trees, and the lake was a smooth mirror of thick ice. The predators of the night had long gone to bed but the day dwellers had yet to rise, leaving a perpetual silence in their wake. It was a sacred silence, not like any other found at any other time of the day. It was pure and the embodiment of nature itself. It was beautiful. And with this to send him to sleep, his eyelids drooped heavily and serene smile graced his lips as he dropped off.

The wind twirled and danced invisible in the air but its power could be seen in what it affected around it. The leaves rustling on the trees, and branches swaying from side to side. The ripples and waves of the dark lake lapping softly against the shore. The sky was filled with soft fluffy clouds which swirled and twisted into numerous shapes. If one was to immerse oneself into nature, one would hear the variety of sounds and see the movement the wind caused around itself. It was nature’s song and dance. Graceful, elegant and strong. For something invisible, something which could only be felt by the stinging of cold rosy cheeks or the ruffling of their hair or seen as leaves swept by, it was powerful. It was a cold bitter day and snow still blanketed the area like glittering diamonds, but the wind had dominance this day.

One boy, who had just recently escaped the clutches of the one he liked to call “the embodiment of evil but on the good side” sat relaxed against his tree, wrapped up warmly this time, eyes closed; jet black hair unruly and utterly windswept and a serene expression gracing his small face. He was totally at home here after the last couple of days of stress, with his familiars surrounding him and back outside where he felt he belonged. He had finally gotten a used to his unique ability whereby he could see the living being that was Magic itself. And though he truly appreciated the glory and power of the mighty Hogwarts, in truth he preferred the subtle beauty that the outdoors had to offer. The subtle green glows of the forbidden forest, the blues of the lake and browns of the stone. It was a lot softer than the “in your face” power that Hogwarts steeped in.

His thoughts wandered back to the past few days. It had been hard. The result of his illness left him short of breath a lot of the time and any sort of upset could result in a panic attack and now, as well as the sudden assault of his new gift. Well everything was a lot to cope with and he found himself itching for his blade. He told himself he had this particular aspect of his life perfectly under control, but he knew he was deluding himself. He knew, from the simple fact that he couldn’t cope with things he previously would have brushed off without staining his sleeves red. He knew Madame Pomphrey and Snape would not have missed the vertical lines upon his arms whilst he was in the hospital wing, like they hadn’t missed the abuse when it was all but shoved in front of them he thought bitterly. The question was why and when. Why they hadn’t confronted him then and there and when would they, as he was without a doubt sure they would.

And then there was the ever enigma of Severus Snape. Was he being sincere in his harsh way, when he said he wanted to help? Could he trust him? What was he talking about, of course he couldn’t. He didn’t trust adults. Never! So what makes this different?

“The fact that you want to but you’re too scared. The fact that you’re sick and tired of going it alone. The fact that you finally want to spill all those secrets that have been eating away at you” a small voice at the back of his head stated. He shook his head vehemently in denial. No, he was fine just the way he was, wasn’t he. His hands automatically groped for the soft fur or feathers of his familiars, something which always managed to calm him when he was stressed. And as if sensing his upset, they all crowded around him offering him their comfort without hesitation. Funny how he could find such solace with animals, and not other people. Animals were uncomplicated, give them love and loyalty, care for them and they returned exactly what you gave. People where too complex and fickle and so for the moment he would stick with his familiars.

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A lone black figure could be seen shrouded by the shadows the trees and foliage provided nearby, eyes glinting like jewels within its depths. He was far from menacing, for dark did not necessarily mean evil. And yet he was still dangerous, not one to cross. However at this moment, he was lost in thought and his usual snarky façade had dropped. Concern dwelt in his eyes, as well as confusion and the source of his confusion was the small boy with emerald eyes so like his mothers, whom he was secretly looking out for.

He could not reconcile his previous notions and thoughts of the arrogant boy with whom he learnt the boy actually was, scared, lost and more than a little weary of his lot in life. He did not like being proven wrong, but Po-Harry always seemed to bring about motion and change.

One could see the effects the last couple of days had on upon him. He was still waif like and gaunt, and unnaturally pale. Some of the energy which he exuded naturally had gone and he looked somewhat ill. But one could also see little hints of recovery, whether it was the tinge of red creeping back into his cheeks, or his hair was slowly returning to its vibrant messy state. Or maybe it was even the small hint of a smile one could see lingering upon his face.

He sighed as he saw the dark thoughts pass over the boy’s face. The child wore his emotions on his sleeve, clear for all to see and yet they choose not to, hence the situation they were now in, the price for their ignorance. He sighed heavily as he watched his familiars hurry to comfort the child, and even nature itself seemed to bend towards him, doing their part in helping him yet again. This was more that could be said about them. And the moment of darkness passed. He sighed once more, something he felt he would be doing a lot more around this child and he slithered off, knowing Harry was in good hands. Hopefully Occlumency would have the double effect of helping the child’s nightmares and control his new power. They would see tonight.

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Harry hesitated, hand raised to knock upon the heavy wooden door. He was still apprehensive and wary of the potions master, and he wanted nothing more than to succumb to his instincts and just run. But another deep breath later and he knocked before he could chicken out, as the muggles say.

With a creak to rival even the scariest horrors, the door scraped open into darkness, a sole candle lighting the Potion’s Masters Office. This coincided perfectly with Harry would expect of the dungeons master. Dark and intimidating, without the cobwebs and coffins and yet oddly comforting. He was used to the dark and often found comfort and safety within its depths. He took a step inside the door, which swung shut automatically.

Within the next minute the Potion’s Master had stepped into the room from a back office and all the candles flared up, leaving Harry blinking erratically trying to get rid of his night vision. Once the spots had left his eyes, he caught sight of the room, which was actually pretty neutral in the light. Shades of brown and cream were dominant.

Snape gestured to the chair in front of him, “Sit Harry.”

Harry did so quietly, if a little wary of what was going to happen.

“Let me just explain a small bit about Occlumency as I know I never explained it properly to you last year.” With a nod of Harry’s head, he continued, “Occlumency is probably one of the highest and even hardest arts you may learn. It is an art of subtlety, strength and is highly susceptible to your emotions. Good emotions, feelings, memories etc. will strengthen it, whilst the opposite also holds true for the negative. It is essentially a defence mechanism for your mind, though in a very personal way. Each person’s defence is different. Some may use a manipulation of an element, a wall of fire, a desert, a barren plain, fog and such. Others may go for the more defence orientated, such as a force field around their mind, a fortress in which they barricade their mind, and so on. Any questions?”

Snape sat as relaxed as Harry had ever seen him, face devoid of emotions, purely set within the “good” teacher mode. It was actually more shocking to him to find that Snape could be a good teacher He was also slightly irritated that he hadn't explained this the year before. It would have made learning it a lot easier, even if the fault lay with both parties as to why he failed.

“Umm, yeah. So I understand the concept you just explained to me.” Snape raised a sleek eyebrow in mild disbelief at the word “concept” and Harry immediately got defensive. “Hey, I do have quite good vocabulary and may I remind you, you don’t know me at all.” Snape nodded, and Harry thought he saw a flicker of amusement in the black depths of his obsidian eyes. “Umm anyway, so I do understand what you’ve explained so far. What I don’t understand is how it would apply for me and seeing the magic around me.”

Snape nodded in understanding. “Essentially, Occlumency is explained as a shield around the mind. In reality however, it is a technique which provides you with great control over your mind. It is with this control that you can learn to protect your mind, misdirect intruders, organise your memories and even provide yourself with a greater focus for your studies. With this control you will become more in tune with your body through various forms of meditations and so you’ll also be able to focus on your new power and turn it on and off, as it were, at will. Is that clear?” Snape clarified.

“Yes Sir.”

“Right, let’s get started. First I want you to relax, take deep breaths and close your eyes.”

Harry immediately tensed. He didn’t know if he trusted Snape enough yet to close his eyes in his presence. He clutched the arms of the chair tightly, his whole body in defence mode. He couldn’t relax.

Snape immediately sensed his charges discomfort. “Po-Harry I know you don’t trust easily, if at all. But I assure you I will do you no harm intentionally ever. As a sign of faith I’ll place my wand by you on the desk." He did so with exaggerated motions, keeping his movements slow as Harry followed his hand’s path with shrewd eyes. “I know it mightn’t afford you much comfort knowing there are other ways to hurt you without a wand,” Harry flinched at the reminder, “but I will swear upon my magic if I have to, that I will not intentionally harm you.” He lifted his hands in a show of defence, slow and deliberately.

Harry had to think. He really didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t ready to trust anyone yet. But he needed to learn this. Ever since he entered the castle today, his eyes had become increasingly unfocused with the sheer intensity of the magic around. He spent most of the day on his bed in the dorm with his eyes closed. No one noticed, no one ever did these days. But he still didn’t want to spend his days shut up in his dorm any longer just because he couldn’t handle the power given to him. These thoughts flew around and around his head in circles. He was becoming distressed. Subconsciously he began to scratch quite intensely at his wrists.

Snape was concerned at how upset the boy had become and alarmed when he began to shred at his wrists quite automatically and without noticing he was even doing it. Gently and slowly he stretched out a hand and placed it softly upon the boy’s own to calm him. Despite this Harry flinched horribly and jerked from his grasp and then he realised what he was doing and reddened, embarrassed.

“Sorry Sir.” He said meekly. Snape merely nodded, not showing how disturbed he was at how meek the boy had become. He knew that they would have to talk about his self-harming, but he needed to establish some sort of trust first. And so he reluctantly let it go.

Harry was embarrassed that he let his guard down. He had been so careful over the years and now with everything he lost focus and let it overwhelm him. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, messing it up even more so than before if possible. Another less harmful nervous habit he had adopted.

“Harry, I am willing to take an Oath.” Snape reiterated. “Occlumency is based on trust. Something we need to develop. The only other option is to bring some other master in the subject in to teach you, but it would more than likely be someone you won’t know.”

Harry settled down slightly with a few deep breaths. He lifted his head determinedly, fire in his eyes, mask once again set. “No, that’s not necessary. I would prefer to keep this under wraps as much as possible and perhaps have the element of surprise for any enemies.”

Snape nodded, “That is wise. Are you willing to lend me a measure of your trust?” Snape was almost pleading. He wanted this to work, to give the boy a chance. To help him. To atone for his previous grieviances against the boy.

Another deep breath and Harry nodded slowly, but held up a hand to cut Snape off, “I will give my trust, without an Oath as I know how fickle these can be. However, do anything to abuse it, and I swear I’m gone from this hypocritical world. Understood?”

Snape agreed quickly, relieved to be given a chance and even more so without using an oath. He couldn’t keep up with the boy, however. He was ever changing. One minute he was meek, shy and obedient and on another level he was then assertive and unwilling to be pulled down again. It was giving him whip lash trying to read him.

“Ok, we’ll begin.” Snape started, “ I want you to close your eyes, relax and take deep breaths. Relax all your muscles, starting from your toes and working your way up…”

As Snape talked him through, Harry forced himself to relax and follow his instructions, once he had calmed himself, it became quite easy to forget that the voice belonged to Snape, to forget that Snape was even there. It was just a disembodied voice instructing him.

“…Once you have relaxed, feel how each muscle is as it is relaxed, feel the blood circulate through your body, feel the magic alive within you…”

At that, Harry felt a spark within him. Something energetic and buzzing, shooting from limb to limb, with no pattern at all. It was random and …colourful? With his eyes closed, deeply immersed in his meditative state, he followed the blurs of colours buzzing within his body. Deep purple, silver and gold, with hints of others. In fact once they reached places like his fingers and toes they fizzled outwards from his body before racing off again in another direction. It was magical. It was…..magic! Of course, this was his magic, the source of powers.

“…Keep your breathing steady and even, keep all those feelings within you and now let them go, slowly, one by one.”

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At what seemed an age Harry opened his eyes to find Snape correcting essays at his desk. He glanced at the clock above the mantle and he barely held back a squeak of shock. It had been two hours since he had come to the Potions Masters office.

Snape suddenly looked up and put his quill down. “Ah you’re out.” He caught Harry still staring at the clock, mouth agape with surprise. He almost chuckled with amusement. “Hmm, that’s perfectly normal. You’ve been in a trance for about an hour and half. So how do you feel?”

Harry collected himself and went to reply with his usual ‘fine’, but something stopped him mid-word and he frowned slightly as he tried to gauge the question. “I feel…I feel like…like I’m buzzing. Energetic.” He was confused, shouldn’t he feel tired or well just something else?

“Yes that’s how you should feel. Tell me what did you experience, so I know how far we’ve gotten.” He inquired, his long face resting upon his clasped hands.

“Well I completely and utterly relaxed, more than I have ever done so before. My muscles were completely limp. I felt calm and focused. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins and the magic darting in my bod-“

Snape shot up, suddenly alert. “Magic you say?” Harry nodded. “And you felt it?”

“And saw it Sir. Wonderful colours, shooting here and there behind my lids.”

Snape seemed almost in awe. “Saw it? Well Harry, I must say you have progressed more than I gave you credit for in the first lesson. I only expected you to get as far as feeling the blood rushing through your veins, and even then that was a might. Well done child.”

Harry felt himself fill up with a weird emotion; it was like he was floating in the clouds. It was pride. He was proud of what he achieved. And he was proud that a hard taskmaster such as Snape had acknowledged it.

“I want you to practice up as far as feeling the blood rush through your veins before going to bed every night. If you go any further, you’ll keep yourself awake with the buzz you’ll get from your magic. And again well done. You can head back to your dormitory.” And with a wave of his hand he dismissed him.

“Thank you, sir.” With a small grateful nod he closed the heavy door. Snape slumped down in his chair. Merlin above, he really shouldn’t have gotten as far as he had. It took wizards up to 3 weeks just to achieve that state. No one had ever done it in less than that. His body must already be in tune with magic. He was more powerful than he thought. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, releasing his pent up tension vigorously. He was glad Harry had given him a chance and that it had worked out well. Even better than he had hoped.

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“Harry.”

A whisper trailed across his subconscious. He was standing in a mysterious room of what looked like Hogwarts. There were antique bookshelves, filled with hundreds of books along one wall. An armoury, filled with hundreds of different weapons. A potions lab was in another corner, one that would send Snape green with envy. And then there was what looked like a section dedicated wholly to the study of plants and animals. In all it was a homely room with a roaring fire, exuding comfort and warmth. Above the mantle was what looked like four portraits? He edged closer, trying to capture any sort of detail to give him a hint of where he was.

“Haaaaarrrrryyyyy!”

He shot out of his bed, disturbing his familiars, the whisper still lingering in his ears. What a strange dream. It wasn’t menacing, quite the opposite. But the more he thought of it, the more the details seem to clarify, which was strange. He shook his head, as if to dispel the fluff between his ears. He quietly climbed out of bed, reassuring his disgruntled familiars, who quickly fell back to sleep. He crept over to the wide windowsill, pulling himself upon it, opening the window to feel the cool fresh wind. He stared out upon the grounds.

It was very early morning. The moon shone with a silver glow, bathing all in its path in a beautiful hue. He stared up at the sky, dwelling upon his strange dream, letting the stars guide his mind. He followed patterns in the sky with his eyes, longing to reach out and just fly away from all his troubles. The wind swirled again through his window and seemed to caress his cheeks. He shivered and he ached for freedom it represented. To fly in the wind and to catch its currents and take him to wherever it may. Away from his troubles, away from the war, away from his relatives, and away from his dream…..or was it a dream?

Life has a funny way of throwing everything at you at the one time. In the order of the Universe why does the bad seem to attract more bad? Is it random? Coincidence? Fate? Destiny? When Harry shot out of his bed that morning, he knew things were going to be tough. For one he was already late for his first class.

With a loud swear he tossed the bed covers aside, and threw on his uniform and was out the portrait hole like a bullet, leaving startled Gryffindors who had a free period that morning staring after him. Even his familiars looked askance at each other before giving the equivalent of an animal shrug and settling back down.

Loud footsteps echoed the empty corridors of the castle as Harry sprinted through its many corridors and down its many stairs. How he managed not to break a leg or fall down a couple of flights of stairs he did not know. Skidding past a door, before backtracking, he flung it open with an unintentional bang. He winced as the loud sound reverberated through the suddenly quiet classroom.

Professor Flitwick eyed Harry disapprovingly. "Please take a seat Mr Potter," he gestured to last empty seat by Daphne Greengrass, "And 10 points from Gryffindor for your tardiness." Harry, red faced, avoided all the stares and sat down silently by Daphne. She gave him a bright encouraging smile. He returned with a wan smile, breathing heavily trying to catch his breath.

"Now before our interruption, I was discussing the charm which we shall be learning today; the Velieris. This charm is from the Fidelius charm family. As you can imagine so, it is a difficult spell to perform. Therefore, no messing will be tolerated as the results can go hideously awry." he eyed them sternly.

"Now, first you need to know what the Fidelius charm is and how it works to gain any sort of appreciation of the Velieris charm. The Fidelius Charm is a complex and powerful spell that allows someone or something to be hidden from the sight of anyone besides specific individuals for an indefinite period of time. Those specific people are the Secret Keeper and the individuals to whom the Secret Keeper reveals the information." Flitwick lectured.

Once again Harry was pressed to pay attention. He had already learnt about the Fidelius charm and its variants. Actually on a small level he was surprised he had gotten as far into the curriculum as he had studied. On the plus it made things much easier in class.

"The secret being hidden is stored within the very soul of the Secret-Keeper," Flitwick continued, "Only they have the power to reveal the secret; not even those who have been told the secret can reveal what they know. The information may be passed on through words or writing. If someone has not been given the information, they will be unable to locate the hidden secret, even if they are staring right at it. When the Secret-Keeper dies, everyone who has been told the secret becomes a Secret-Keeper. If the Secret-Keeper dies without having revealed the secret to anyone, then the secret dies with them, forever. The information will be hidden for all time, unless, of course, there were multiple secret-keepers before the death. It is unknown if coercive methods to have the Secret-Keeper reveal the location, such as Veritaserum or the Imperius Curse, would work."

Taking a deep breath, the small stature of the professor wobbled precariously upon his stack of books, before steadying himself and returning to his lecture without missing a beat. "Now, the Fidelius charm cannot be performed by any sixth year student and we begin to teach the mechanics of it in the seventh year. In fact most of you will never be able to perform the Fidelius charm. And just demonstrate this Harry Potter, with his late arrival has volunteered to try, and fail to perform this charm before we move on to the Velieris charm. "

Only half listening to the Professor, he calmly walked up to the front of the class, thinking back to what the book he had read about the Fidelius charm had said.

"Right, Mr Potter, I don't expect you to be able to do this, but I want you to give it your best shot. I want you to attempt to use this charm on my office door. " He waved his hand vaguely to a door in the corner of his classroom that led to his office. "I want you to swirl your wand in -" Alarm crossed Flitwick's face as Harry started to swirl and twist his wand.

"Harry-" but he couldn't get a word in edgewise, Harry wasn't listening.

The class looked on in curiosity, none really had an idea if what was occurring. Only Granger had a suspicious frown on her face.

Five minutes later, the class gasped as Flitwick's office door completely disappeared and the information of its whereabouts was wiped immediately from their heads. Flitwick's eyes were as wide as saucers; mouth hanging stupidly open in a similar fashion to McGonagall’s the other day. Shaking from his stupor, he summarily dismissed the class gesturing to Harry to stay.

Amidst the cheers and the pandemonium of students rushing off to enjoy their unexpected free period, Granger stood furious that Potter could achieve such advanced magic, outstripping any of her achievements. Weasley was confused at the situation, no surprise there, but steadily his face turned an ugly purple colour as Granger whispered what had happened. His fists were clenched tightly, and he was shaking with utter fury. He took a step forward when...

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, I dismissed you. Please leave the immediate vicinity or I will be forced to dole out detentions!" barked the professor. With one last furious look at Harry they turned on their heels and swept out of the classroom. And the professor turned to the enigma that was Harry Potter.

Harry stood cursing himself for bringing more attention to his self. He cursed Fate for making him late that particular day, and he cursed Professor Flitwick for picking a volunteer this particular day, something he rarely did and then for picking him of all people. Bloody chain reaction of events! He groaned inwardly.

"Well Harry, I presume you understand what you have achieved." Flitwick was forcefully neutral, for he did not know how to react. Should he celebrate that his student showed such promise or be suspicious, because he showed so much promise, of which he kept previously carefully hidden.

"Umm I successfully cast the Fidelius charm or, "he rephrased, "I think I cast it successfully, however I can still see its location and can only judge by everyone's reactions." he shrugged carelessly.

"Indeed Harry, you correctly cast a Fidelius charm in your fifth year, on your first attempt?" Harry nodded. "May I ask how you knew the incantation and wand movement for the charm?"

"I've had a lot of time on my hands since the start of the year and I've found studying ahead a suitable activity to fill the time." Harry answered truthfully.

Flitwick was very surprised at how Slytherin Harry sounded. Not so much in the context of what he said but the manner in which he said it and the vocabulary he used. "And how, when you really didn't show any amazing aptitude for any particular subject you now have a flair for charms and transfiguration?" Harry started at the mention of his transfiguration class. Apparently the teachers 'talked' in the staffroom.

Harry sighed, deciding to be truthful. "In all honesty professor, I've found without Ron's influence in doing the bare minimum and Hermione's insistence on checking and correcting my work for me, I've put in the work myself and quite enjoyed it. I've found nearly all my work easier without their...their distractions."

Flitwick's eyebrows rose in shock at Harry's blunt answer. He couldn't deny that all the staff had noticed the disintegration of the trio's friendship and were taken aback by the other two's sudden open hostility to Harry. They had all noticed once attention had started to be drawn to Harry once again, that they had changed and he wondered if they were under some outside non optional influence. It was an area worth investigating, considering they were so out of character.

"Well Harry, I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but I'm glad you're putting in the effort and showing your true potential. I shall observe your work for a while yet, and if I decide you're sufficiently ahead, I’ll give you the option of advanced work for extra credit. Here's a note for your next class. Keep up the work Harry."

With that Harry was dismissed and he headed off to History of Magic. He groaned quietly at the thought of an hour with his dead teacher, as he shut the classroom door.

Once he heard the lock click, a huge smile lit up the Professor's face and the excitement he felt during his conversation with Harry now showed a hundred times magnified. He couldn't wait to tutor the boy in some advanced charms. To have such a protégé in his class, not that he would tell him, was exhilarating. There would be some talk in the staffroom later, at The-Boy-Who-Lived's sudden prowess at magic.

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Once again Harry found himself in a similar situation, standing at the doors to the Great Hall at lunch. He was determined not to break down like the previous time. Clenching his fist tightly, he composed himself, delving into the recesses of the basic Occlumency he had learnt, relaxing completely all his muscles, feeling the blood flow through his veins and stopping short of feeling the exuberance of his magic within him. He did this all in a matter of seconds, progressing from the hour or so it had taken him the first time. However this time round he had taken to studying Occlumency with a purpose and vengeance and exceeded far beyond even Professor Snape's expectations, who had said he was ready for the next step.

With a determined stride he walked through the doors and almost faltered. The Magic, he could still feel it, but it had dimmed to a strong glow around objects and people. Much more manageable. With a slight smile on his face he decided he didn't want to isolate himself any further and decided to sit with Neville and his strange group that sat at one end of the Ravenclaw table. People were taken aback, as they were used to Harry with a sorrowful, haunted look. Not the slight smile that lingered upon his lips. In fact, it was almost infectious and those around couldn't help but perk up.

"Hey guys, do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all Harry," Neville replied with a grin. Maybe today wasn't turning out so bad afterall, thought Harry.

"Here Blaise, budge up there and make room for Harry." Harry settled down alongside Blaise and Susan and soon became immersed in the conversation. He had forgotten how good it was just to talk with other people. In fact, he was afraid he had lost his voice for a while from disuse.

"So Harry, we were just taking about the regular study group we hold every day and we were wondering if you would like to join us?" asked Padma. She had a strange glint in her eye. Perhaps the Slytherins were rubbing off on her

Harry eyed her suspiciously, "What is the catch? Judging by the calculating gleam in your eye worthy of Blaise and Daphne here, you want something from me." There were scattered chuckles throughout the group, and Padma glowed a bright red from being caught out.

"Fair enough Harry, all you have to do is give something back to the group like everyone else. Whether it's helping out the others with 'spells'," she said putting emphasis on spells," or say running a lesson now and again on the subject or spell you're particularly good at." Padma made it clear without saying so directly, that she wanted to pick his brain for knowledge.

Harry arched his eyebrow in amusement. "Is that all? Guess you heard about charms and transfiguration class? You know I would have done that anyway, without your manipulations."

The whole group laughed as Padma smugly punched the air. It was no surprise to them all that she was a true Ravenclaw.

"Anyway, we're meeting tonig-" she was cut off by a sarcastic drawl behind Harry.

"Well well well, if it isn't the outcasts of the school!"

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. Of course lunch was going too well. He should have expected something like this. When he opened his eyes, people drew back as the haunted, tired look had returned and people’s mood inevitably plummeted as Harry's did.

Harry turned slowly to face a furious Weasley, Granger a step behind and both wearing ugly sneers across their faces.

"Weasley, Granger." he greeted neutrally. He wasn't going to lose his temper.

"Figures you would go and abandon your real friends for a bunch of misfits." The hall had completely silenced and even the Professors were listening in. All had, however sucked in sharp gasps, and there were even some cries of outrage at Weasley's accusation. Everyone knew that in fact it was the other way round and for Weasley to blatantly lie as well as insult the odd group in hearing of the entire school and professors was quite audacious of him. Hermione said nothing, but the twisted sneer said all and that she completely agreed.

Harry was furious. He wondered how he was ever friends with these pompous prats. His eyes had darkened with fury, but that was his only visible reaction. The teachers silently applauded his control but still had done nothing to stop the confrontation.

"For your information Weasley, Granger, it was you who dumped me for some reason I still have no idea of. Anyway, I'm not going to argue the point with you, I know the truth and that's good enough for me. Frankly, you're not worth it anyway." Harry dismissed them casually and turned his back on his former best friends and turn to Neville and the rest. "I'll see you later guys, I've suddenly lost my appetite." he climbed over his seat and made his way to the doors.

Halfway there, he heard an inhumane growl and two incantations.

"Haaaarrrryyy!" Daphne screamed in warning.

Harry turned, and everything slowed down. He saw Weasley and Granger both with their wands pointed at him with self-righteous smirks. He saw two streams of sickly yellow flying towards him. He saw the horror on Daphne and the rests of the students faces. He saw the teachers scramble over the tables in an attempt to stop the inevitable. He saw the magic of Hogwarts building up around the students so they were safe from any deflection and reassure him that it all would work out, and to stay calm. And he heard a thrill of fury. He calmly faced what was to come, no fear evident, trusting in the Magic of Hogwarts.

All this happened in a matter of seconds.

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Snape watched in interest and admiration at how Harry had controlled the situation without losing his temper. He could see that the other students were also impressed and that Weasley and Granger only had a small gathering and was in the minority.

Admiration turned to horror as he saw the two reach for their wands. He was first over the staff table and halfway down the aisle, but he knew he would not make it in time and that those bone breaking curses would cause considerable damage and pain. He saw Harry's eyes connect with him and smile reassuringly at him. How could he be so calm. He couldn't save him. He could feel his oath to urging him to do so, but he would be too late.

Then he heard roars of fury echo through the hall!

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Back in Harry's dorm, his familiars were playing rough and tumble in the empty dorm, whilst his Phoenix watched over them regally.

It was the cub twins against the wolf and unicorn. And currently all were tangled in Harry's sheets, his pillow torn to shreds, feathers floating like fluffy snow above his bed. They were all preparing for round two, when Flora cocked her head sideways, listening to something far away. This got the other's attention and they stilled, waiting. Flora was becoming increasingly agitated and this was transferring those on the bed.

Suddenly with a furious screech and short thrill to the others she flamed away quickly. The rest of the familiar's added their voices angrily to the din and disappeared immediately after.

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In the great hall, Harry stood incredibly still and calm. He knew what would happen and was just waiting. The teachers were still only halfway to him and the students were bound in place by Hogwarts herself. All watched in horror as the curses flew through the air to an inch away from Harry.

A black and silver blur and a flash of green flames and Harry was gone a millisecond before the curses hit. With an audible gong, the curse reflected of the shielded students and dissipated into the ceiling of Hogwarts.

At the same instant there were two cries of pain and snarls of fury. Ron and Hermione were flat on their backs as Harry's magical panther cubs stood on their chests ready to attack. More gasps as a sage wolf appeared from the shadows circling his 'prey' and a gold unicorn foal stood guard at the entrance hall.

The teachers were frozen at the sight of so many rare creatures in the one place and obviously bonded to Harry. Hagrid was visibly reigning himself in from charging at them in enthusiasm.

Snape and Dumbledore sighed, visibly relieved as Harry reappeared with a magnificent black and silver Phoenix. What were even more startling were their eyes. Both were identical emerald green shades and both had darkened in fury. Students shivered.

Harry was visibly fighting for control and Snape wasn't surprised to see the magic of Hogwarts, building up behind the boy, like a raging wave of colours, as it seemed to bend to the child’s emotions.

He stalked forward, an intimidating sight, with fiery tails of magic curling off and dissolving. With a wave of his hand, he sent forth a swirl of magic, freezing the professors in their positions so they couldn't interfere.

"Well Weasley, Granger, who would expect such a cowardly attack from two of the house of lions." he hissed, mocking resonating in each word he spat. They whimpered in fear, they were clearly in no position to argue, though he could still see the defiance in them.

"As you can see, I'm well protected by my familiars. They are like an extension of me. Let's get this straight! I want nothing from you and nothing to do with you. I don't know what the hell I did to evoke such a response from you, but I'm passed caring. Stay AWAY from me!" he growled in a near perfect imitation of his Sal.

Then several things happened simultaneously. Harry walked a couple of steps, before curling in on himself and then springing up, throwing a hand to the ceiling, releasing all the pent up magic he held within safely. The teachers were suddenly able to rush forward and Hogwarts trembled with all the excess Magic running into her.

Snape reached Weasley and Granger first, binding both in place so they couldn't slip out in the chaos. Then he turned to Harry, just in time to catch him as he lost consciousness. He laid him gently on the floor, his familiars crowded around to offer their support.

He left the other Professors deal with the duo, with the Headmaster eyeing them disappointingly, no twinkle in his eye and Professor Flitwick straining to whisper something frantically in the Headmaster's ear, gesturing wildly to the two bound on the ground.

Snape was oblivious to this, more worried about Harry. Madame Pomphrey and Professor McGonagell rushed over to him. Pomphrey knelt beside the child running a general diagnostic upon him. McGonagell stood worriedly over them, twisting her robe in her hands anxiously. Snape was slightly calmer as Harry's familiars didn't seem too worried about the boy.

Pomphrey sighed in relief. "just magical exhaustion. He used too much too quickly and strained himself reigning it in. Poor boy, everything always happens to him," she ran her hands through his hair sadly. "Right, the best thing is for him to sleep it off, so up to the hospital wing with him."

Snape conjured a magical stretcher and gently levitated Harry upon him. All proceeded up to the hospital wing with an entourage of magical creatures.

Dumbledore and Flitwick left determinedly with both Granger and Weasley, to his office to sort them out.

And as soon as they left, Hogwarts released her hold on the students and immediately, the rumour mill swung into action combining fact, fiction and exaggeration.

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Harry slowly drifted into consciousness. On second thought, as soon as he fully focused, he drifted into consciousness, within his subconscious. He almost groaned as he lived out that dreaded dream again. Everything was the exact same, even the time of night it showed in the window.

When he finally he got to the portraits, he prepared himself to wake.

And he waited. And waited.

"What the hell?" This was certainly different. He looked around and tried to take a step towards the door, deviate from his dream path. But he was frozen in spot. He couldn't move.

"Haaarrryyy!" a voice whispered.

He was beginning to panic.

"Harry!"

Where was it coming from? He looked around frantically.

Finally he looked to the portraits and saw them staring worriedly down at him. For the first time he could discern different details, the Red, Blue, Green and Yellow robes each wore. How one of the males had chestnut crown wavy hair to his shoulders and hazel eyes and the other had shiny black short hair, which stuck up at all angles and had sea green eyes. How one of the females had blue black, dead straight long hair to her lower back and icy blue eyes. Where the other had beautiful golden curls to her bottom, and kind, honey coloured eyes. He noted that they were all exceptionally beautiful in a regal way.

The lady with blue black hair urgently spoke. "Harry, you must wake up. He's coming!"

Harry was confused. "What? Who? How-how did you know my name?"

The man with hazel eyes responded. "No time for questions, young one. They are for another time. You need to get out NOW!"

"What?" Then Harry felt a tug at his navel like a portkey, except he was slowly fading instead of instantly being whipped away.

He was vaguely aware of the conversation continuing.

"Oh no, it's too late!" the one with honey coloured eyes cried. "He's already fading."

The man with short black hair only shook his head. "Let’s hope he is strong enough to endure. Hopefully he'll seek help. He'll need it!"

They slowly dissolved from sight, each with a sorrowful expression, leaving him feel like he was going to his own funeral.

Then he was dumped in a house. A muggle one by the looks of it. Or muggleborn he corrected as he saw a wand upon the mantle above the fireplace.

His veins turned to ice as he heard the cruel laughter ringing through the air. He focused on his surroundings and realized that the house was in a state equivalent to that of a vicious break in. Leather suites were upturned and ripped in half. Vases with beautiful red and white roses in full bloom had been thrown to the ground. Furniture had been hacked at and scorched and family pictures lay smashed on the floor. He heard evil, mocking laughter.

Oh no! He backed into the corner. On no, oh no, oh no! His head whipped around as the door swung open. A band of ten death eaters entered, holding a man and women. And then Harry spied two children behind them. A young girl of about 10 and a small baby boy. Harry almost gagged. Voldemort brought up the rear, a sadistic smile on his face, twirling his wand lazily in his hand.

They spread out into a semicircle, leaving the two children in the middle and the parents restrained by the remaining death eaters.

"Well well well, my loyal death eatersss. All I can sssay iss to have fun. None sssurvive!" he hissed harshly. They cackled with glee as the mother wailed desperately. Voldemort took a seat in the remaining upturned comforter and watched maliciously.

Harry had turned ashen. He didn't want to watch and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. As if by watching he could help, even if it was just to let another know of this treachery.

They started on the young girl, a slow skin peeling curse, the cries and pleas of the parents encouraging them. Then Malfoy, he could tell because of the platinum blond hair flowing from his dark hood, sickly caressed the girl's cheek. She was beautiful and would of grown to be a heartbreaker with gorgeous blue eyes and silvery blond hair. They were dulled with pain and tears now, but she never gave them the satisfaction of her screams.

He had an odd gleam to his eyes, he reached a hand down and ripped off the girls skirt. Harry's eyes went wide and he had to turn away as realization dawned in the young girls eyes.

But they could not block out the screams as she finally broke. They could not block out the parents pain and despair for their child. Harry slid down the wall and curled himself into a ball, rocking himself, trying to block the pain and the screams.

For what seemed liked hours, they tortured the helpless family. For what seemed like days, Harry sat in his corner, unable to do anything, completely helpless. By the time Voldemort rose and finished all of them off with a flash of green light, Harry's eyes were dead, completely void of life.

As all the death eaters filed out, Voldemort once again bringing up the rear, he turned slowly with an evil grin and whispered, "That was for you Potter. I know you're there. You're shields are pathetic!" and with a chilling laugh he disapparated.

Not a second later, Harry felt himself being pulled from the vision. Immediately he was comforted by his familiars, but they couldn't do much for the hollowness he felt within. He leaned over the rail of the bed and wretched onto the floor below. Only vaguely noticing it was the middle of the night and he was in the hospital wing, he spied his bag by the bed and pulled out his knife from the pocket he hid it in. He held it up for a minute, the moonlight shimmering eerily on the silver blade before pressing it upon the flesh of his wrist.

But he stopped short of drawing blood. He suddenly remembered the promise he gave to Snape. He wanted, he needed the release, but he also knew that in this situation, he wouldn't have any control in his emotional state.

Mind made up, he threw his blade back into his bag and leapt up from the bed, wobbling a bit unsteadily, before gearing up to a flat out sprint. His familiars trailed behind eyeing him worriedly.

He sprinted through the cold corridors, his bare feet slapping against the stone. He ignored various portraits shouting at him to return to bed and ghosts reprimanding him for being out late. Finally in the depths of the dungeons, he skidded to a halt before Snape's office door. He thudded urgently on the door, praying he would still be up and nearly fell atop of the professor as the door swung open with force.

"What the-" he broke off as soon as he saw who it was. One look into his dead and jaded emerald eyes and he nodded.

"Come in."