When Harry awoke he was being laid down on the bench outside of the courtroom. In a haze, he could see Bruce and McTavish standing nearby, the courtroom door closed. The volume suddenly seemed to go up as Harry registered the fact that Snape was yelling at McTavish with gusto.

      "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM YOU B ..." Snape's shouts fell silent mid sentence when he saw that Harry had opened his eyes.  Suddenly silent and completely ignoring McTavish, he spun around and knelt by the bench, dark eyes narrowed as he inspected Harry.

       "How are you feeling?" he asked.

      "O-Okay I guess," Harry said slightly shakily as Snape moved his bound hands up to feel his forehead.

     "Are you ill? Did they do something to you?"

     "No, and No ," Harry said, clumsily pushing Snape's hand away, suddenly annoyed.

     Snape lowered his voice and asked, "Do you feel in any way like you did before we ... came here?"

     Harry shook his head vigorously, though he felt a little dizzy so he stopped soon.

   "Then what did they do to you?" Snape inquired, frowning.

     "It was the shouting," Harry admitted, trying to sit up, only to have Snape push him back down.

     "Stay here," said Snape sternly. "Lie down a little while, until you feel positively sure you are strong enough to sit up."

     "Fine," sighed Harry tiredly, trying to keep tears at bay as he recalled the things people had been yelling. For a moment he thought he saw his professor's eyes defrost slightly, but couldn't be sure. He was too busy meditating upon this that he almost didn't hear what Snape said next.

     "You don't deserve what they were saying," he muttured, getting up. 

      Before Harry could even feel surprised at Snape's words, McTavish had grabbed Snape's arm and pulled him toward the closed doors. McTavish whispered something to Bruce, who went outside, presumably to do whatever he had been told. Once he had gone McTavish turned to Snape.

     "You're a stubborn one," he said to Snape, who bestowed upon McTavish a look of utmost loathing. "Which is why I have something for you."

       Harry didn't like the tone that McTavish was using and felt a sudden foreboding as he watched McTavish pull a small glass bottle out of his pocket and pull the little cork out.

      "Know what this is?" McTavish said.

      Snape hesitated, looking a little unnerved as he finally said, "I cannot say."

      "It's a little something to get you to talk, make you more likely to confess," McTavish said with a harsh laugh. "It'll put you in the Judge's ... favour."

       With a steely glint to his eye and a crooked grin he grabbed a hold of Snape, forcing him to swallow the contents of the bottle. It was quite the struggle, but McTavish appeared to have a lot of experience, and won. Of course, it didn't help that Snape had his hands tied.

      "Stop!" Harry shouted in shock, finally on his feet and running toward McTavish, though it was too late. He pounded on his back with his tied hands, and McTavish let go of Snape and pushed Harry away easily. Harry tripped and fell to the ground, head throbbing dizzily and heart pounding in his ears. His glasses had fallen off, making his vision fuzzy. Another throb made the floor rock beneath him. He was helped to his feet rather clumsily and roughly brushed off, and though the outline was blurred he could tell it was Snape, which surprised him. His glasses thrust into his hands, and he put them on, though slightly crooked due to his roped hands. Snape looked positively furious, and Harry shrunk away from him.

     "Sit down, and stay there," Snape said, gesturing to the bench.

     "Are you going to be alright?"

    "I'll be fine Potter so stop worrying," he said, blinking rather dazedly and giving his head a light shake. It seemed as though the strange liquid McTavish had given him was doing something.

     Just them Bruce returned, carrying their wands. He gave them to McTavish, who pocketed them. And then Snape was led into the courtroom, and the doors slammed shut behind him, leaving Harry with Bruce.

          "Why aren't they saying what's going to happen to me?" Harry asked Bruce, suddenly wondering why the Judge hadn't called him back in to hear his sentence.

      "McTavish wanted you sentenced together," Bruce grunted, shrugging. "You'll find out at the end. Now be quiet!"

      Harry looked at his feet, wondering why McTavish would want that. Perhaps it was because Snape was caught while trying to find him, and he had two wands. Or perhaps he wanted to make sure neither of them got off. Harry shivered suddenly as he thought of this, and through the thin walls he could hear the court fall silent.

      Harry heard the judge call out Snape's name, his voice very faint. After that it grew too difficult to hear because the judge had obviously lowered his voice. So Harry sat there in numbness, feeling ill with every shout of the crowd and pound of the judge's gavel. Time slipped by as it slowly grew darker outside. As it did so the chilly night began to seep through the cracks in the door and nip at Harry's toes, the wind whistling by.

       It seemed like forever had come and gone, and yet at the same time only seconds when the doors were thrown open and Harry was led up to the front of the room to stand next to Snape. He looked up to his Professor, who didn't look well. With a nagging feeling of worry Harry couldn't help but notice the thin sheen of sweat on Snape's brow and the way his eyes were glassy. He looked downright ill. But Harry's attention was soon brought to the judge, who stood, and began to speak.

     "Based on the evidence heard today," he announced dryly, "Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter have been found guilty of witchcraft, and I hereby declare that they are sentenced to execution by hanging."

       The words rang through Harry's ears, and he felt his knees wobble dangerously. He grabbed a hold of Snape's arm to steady himself, not quite realising what he was doing. Surprisingly Snape did not pull him off, but merely let the both of them be led down the aisle amidst screams from the crowd, which Harry did not hear for the rumbling thunder that had grown inside his brain, a lightning storm of fear electrifying his senses.

       ***

      "Sir," Harry said loudly to Snape, who seemed to have blanked out. Was he too feeling the panic Harry was? Or was it something else that made him appear so vacant?

      "What Potter?" Snape said after a moment, looking up at the ceiling of their cell. A strange look was on his face, and had been for the some twenty minutes since their return to the jail.

      "Are you alright?"

       "You tell me," Snape muttered, eyes widening as he backed against the wall. "Are you seeing those?" He nodded up to the ceiling, swallowing nervously.

       "Seeing what?" Harry asked, confused as he glanced up to see nothing but the wooden roof.

       "Er, this might sound strange," Snape began, back firmly against the wall and sounding more unnerved that Harry had ever heard him before, "but there are ... tiny blue deer ... walking on the ceiling. They have ... er, butterfly wings?"  He shuddered violently, but not from what he was seeing. Whatever McTavish gave him was taking its toll. "Oh Merlin they're flying!" he said rather loudly, ducking suddenly and looking quite crazy. If they had been anywhere else Harry would have been howling with laughter, but at the moment he situation was entirely unfunny.

      "There's nothing there Professor," Harry said faintly, quite distressed by Snape's odd behaviour.

      But Snape did not appear to be responding, he only stood once more, glazed eyes staring in horror at a blank space on the wall.

      "What did they give you?" Harry asked, mostly to himself. He didn't expect an answer.

      "It was the potion that makes you see things," an eerie voice said, drifting into their cell.

     "Who is that?" Harry said, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up.

     "Over here child," said the voice, this time much softer, and more human.  It sounded like an old woman, her voice weak, and tired. "I am sorry to have surprised you. I ... I have been very ill as of late."

       Harry glanced over to the grate in the wall between the two cells, and saw a wrinkled old hand on the bars of the grate. He glanced over at Snape, who was still not moving, and knelt down to the grate.

     "Hello," Harry whispered rather shyly.

     "Did McTavish give him a potion?" asked the old woman, her face too high up to be seen through the low grate.

      "Yeah," Harry said.

      "Oh dear, he's in for a hard night," said the lady sympathetically, her voice like old parchment. 

     "Why, will he get better?" Harry said frantically, hands on the grate too.

     "Yes, he will," she replied, sounding grave. "But it will get worse before it can get better. He's going to see things, dark things. It's how the potion works ... I'm sorry child."

     "Why won't he answer me?" Harry muttered, at the end of his rope.

     "He's slipping further into waking dreams, or that's what some call them around here."

      "Why did they give the potion to him?" Harry wondered aloud.

      "Hmm, well, the potion usually makes people confess to crimes easier, even if they never did them. It  makes people see things, and hear things too, so a lot of the time confessions are completely made up. McTavish likes to use it on people who are really hard to make talk. It's hard to tell who's under it during the trails too, mostly because for the first little while the effects are not too bad."

        "What's your name?" Harry suddenly asked, wishing for someone to talk to.

      "Jean," said the woman.  

      "I'm Harry," he told her. "Thanks for telling me about the potion."

      "It was the least I could do," she said faintly. She appeared to be losing her voice.

      "How did you get here?" Harry blurted.

     Jean let out a soft breath and said, "My friend was convicted for witchcraft a month back. They put me in here for ‘associating with the devil'" She sighed softly. "And you're here for accidental magic, aren't you?"

      "Yes," Harry said, trying not to break down.

     "Hmm, so I did hear correctly," she said to herself. "Do I want to know what the sentence is?"

     "N-No," whispered Harry.

    "Tell me anyways, maybe you won't feel so afraid if you share it," she suggested gently.

     "They're g-gonna k-k-kill us!" Harry said, starting to shake. "I don't wanna d-die, I don't!" He took a deep shuddering breath.

    "Shh, it isn't so bad," said the woman softly before Harry could continue, working her hands through the gaps in the metal and wrapping them around Harry's, which had been untied after the trial. "Perhaps you will get lucky."

     "Has anyone ever escaped?"

     She hesitated. "Not yet ... but there is a first for everything."

     "T-Thank you," Harry stuttered, tears dripping down his nose without his consent.

     "If you need to talk I am here," Jean said, with a final pat to his hand. "I need to go rest now, keep up my strength."

     "Okay," he whispered back.

     "It was nice meeting you Harry," she said, and Harry could tell she was smiling. "I have the strangest feeling that things might turn out differently for you. Just a little feeling."

      And Harry heard a slight rustle, sounding as though she had lain down. He returned his gaze to Professor Snape, who continued to stare of into the distance, having taken no notice of what had been said a few feet from where he stood.

       Harry blinked hard, trying to keep tears at bay as he examined the shadows on the walls, cast because of the faintly burning candle at the opposite end of the jail. A gust of chilly air extinguished it, plunging the area into darkness. At the moment Harry felt as though the darkness was taking him into its folds and making him one with it, until at long last, like the candle, his fire would go out. He wondered if soon, he too would make the descent into nothing, like the smothered flame. It was a question Harry almost didn't want to know the answer to, so he pushed it away. With a slight hitch of his breath, Harry slid down against the wall and wrapped his arms around himself, the celebratory shouts from the square reaching his ears, each voice like a cold hand upon the back of his neck. And for the first time in his life he prayed.

      ***

       Harry had fallen asleep propped up against the wall, but he had a feeling he couldn't have been asleep for long. The small squares of moonlight had not shifted too greatly upon the floor. At first it wasn't entirely clear what had caused his sudden departure from sleep, but Harry heard once more the noise that had jolted him out of his dreams. It was a low moan, though not too far from a whine. Surprisingly, it had come from Snape. The way in which Snape was sitting frightened Harry terribly. His professor was huddled in a corner, face contorted and fingers digging into the stone of the wall.

     "Sir, are you okay?" Harry called across the cell.

      Once again, Snape did not respond. So Harry took a deep breath, and tried to go back to sleep. After a minute or so of having his eyes closed, Harry snapped them open again.

      "S-Sorry," Snape said with a shudder, his voice low and rasping.

      Harry stared, but Snape did not see him, though his eyes were wide open. The jail was silent once again but for the noises of Snape trying to jam himself further into the corner. Harry watched, feeling a slight jab of pity for Snape. He wondered what he was seeing.

      "Noooo," moaned Snape, his voice ringing strangely off the walls. He dug his fingers into his arms, which he had wrapped around himself. "All ... my ... f-fault."

      Snape let out a fearful gasp and dug his hands into his hair, almost as though trying to rid himself of whatever he was seeing or hearing. His eyes were wide with terror, and he was saying things under his breath. It unnerved Harry, and quite frankly terrified him to see Snape like this. His professor, who was so collected, brave even, was falling apart before his eyes, and looking as afraid as Harry felt.

     "Always, always ..." he said thickly, rocking back and forth where he sat. "STOP IT! P-PLEASE JUST STOP!"

      Harry jumped about a foot at Snape's shouts, and wondered what on earth he was going on about. He didn't have long to ponder it though, as Snape was on the move. Snape gasped and without getting up began to inch himself away from the corner, following the wall opposite Harry until he bumped up against metal bars. He sat, slumped up against them a moment, head down and dark hair obscuring his tortured face.

      "You s-said it was for ever," he whispered to himself brokenly, sounding younger - in fact almost childish - but making absolutely no sense to Harry. "Best friends, you s-said!"

      Snape sat there for a few more moments, but seemed to hear something from behind him, and he turned around, sticking his face up against the bars, hands creeping along the metal.

     "Hello?" he drawled calmly. "Yes, this is me. Get out of my fire, I'm busy. No you cannot borrow my cauldron so bugger off!"   Then he turned his head sharply eyes focusing on something different, suddenly silent.

       Harry looked in the direction Snape was, and predictably, saw nothing. But it was clear that whatever Snape was seeing it was causing him a rather large amount of distress.

     "Why did you come?" he whispered, sounding as though every word was like a knife through his chest. "I thought you never wanted to see me ag ... oh, right. Stupid, scum, coward, yes I am familiar with those terms. Look, Li - WAIT, WAIT! Don't leave, I'm sorry! I haven't got a choice! I'M SORRY! Come back! Don't ... leave me."

     Snape slumped even further down on the floor, his head on his trembling knees, looking defeated. His posture changed slightly after a moment, and he looked up, furious.

          "POTTER!?" he shouted. Harry jumped badly, but after a moment confirmed that Snape still was lost in hallucination. He grew more confused the more Snape said.

       "How could she? What is she thinking ... that - that arrogant ... why would she spend time with ... "  Snape swore a few times, quite colourfully in fact.

     An abrupt change fell about Snape for yet another time that night, and he began to breathe raggedly, looking as though he completely loathed himself.

    "My ... f-fault, all my ... fault! Dead ... gone!" he said in between gasps, hands tugging at his hair again, his previous thoughts forgotten as he reverted to his earlier state. "My only ... my one ..."

     He moaned terribly, an agonizing cry that one can only make when their insides have been turned to anguish in its purest form. Just hearing the terrible sound made Harry want to follow suit.

     "I'LL KILL YOU BLACK!" Snape shouted abruptly, getting shakily to his feet and scrambling across the cell to the other wall, which he ground his fists into and sunk to the floor, gasping with rage.

      He was silent for a long time, but when he finally spoke once more it was much quieter.

       "Your fault Snape. She was r-right, all along. Stupid. Scum. Coward. I am familiar with those terms. I'm f-familiar ..."  He began to shake, curled up in a ball in the corner, eyes scrunched tightly shut. "You s-said ... best friends ... for ever, for always."

        It startled Harry to see a tear creep down his Professor's long nose, which was barely centimetres away from the dirt floor. It made him feel embarrassed to see his Professor in such a state and he felt bad for the way Snape would feel if he ever found out just what he said and did because of the potion. Amidst the sounds of his whirring brain and the wind ripping through the trees outside Harry heard only one last word from Snape before he fell silent for the night. It was in fact a name, which upon hearing ultimately resulted in Harry feeling as though he was falling, regardless of how softly Snape said it.

     "Lily," he breathed.

     At that moment a little bit of dirt on what began as a darkened windowpane was wiped away, and however shakily, Harry began the long journey of understanding the man across from him; a process that would never truly be complete.