For young Harry James Potter there were always whispers in the night time, infinitely dark night terrors that followed him to abrupt wakefulness, tugging and pulling him incessantly from exhausted rest to a trance like state where he could not see, could not feel or could only experience true rest every once in a while. It was a common occurrence for him to dream of things not yet come to pass or glimpse little flashes of times long forgotten in the halls of Hogwarts.

One night when he had barely been an established first year, he had trudged down the spiral staircase, out of the common room and down to the fifth floor with a heavy heart and mind to go and see his Head of House, Professor Flitwick. Searching for help in the office that was always open to his students. Harry had been only too happy to learn that he was not insane as he had thought he was but gifted with the very special ability of Latent Sight. Something the Charms Professor said a Professor Trelawney would enjoy knowing and openly accept him into her class come his third year.

However that was not what had made him happy, no. Professor Flitwick told him quite conspiratorially that he shared the talent with his deceased mother. Harry, not being able to contain his emotions had cried in earnest that night for it was the first time in his life he had heard something of the mother he had never known. His brave and strong Mum who had died to protect him and ensured his continued safety by offering her loving sacrifice. Young Harry had been so desperate to know more than the few remarks of how he looked just like her, possessed the same deep red hair, startling green eyes and inclination to kindness and compassion.

He had needed so much more.

Thus, despite the penchant for causing distress and pain he endured his nightmares as they came and went so that he could cherish a connection with her, a connection only he and Professor Flitwick knew of. Even if the cruelty of the images was enough to make him crumble beneath the weight of many tears and sorrow. In seeing his distress the small Professor had let out a squeak of surprise and rummaged through his desk with renewed purpose, looking quite ruffled by Harry's reaction.

'Hush, hush now beloved child. Perhaps this will cheer you up. They are awfully good, Professor Sinstra made them.' And to calm the first year's raging tears the short goblin-like teacher had smiled triumphantly as he took out a tin box from within his desk, cracked open the lid to allow the scent of the most delicious vanilla cupcakes to tickle Harry's nose delectably. Small fingers flicked out his wand and with a flourishing swish made the frosted cupcakes grow little spindly arms and cakey legs to dance across the top of the desk just for Harry.

That night, so clear in his mind even though it was three years past, was a memory he treasured all the same and found a small comfort in a Professor that Harry would never forget. However, the present night was rife the biting chill of the winter winds creeping in from the cracks in the window frames, where the comfort of their blue and bronze dormitory was cold and desolate and the comfort usually found in the Ravenclaw dormitory was dulled and forgotten. One of its unhappy occupants was woken from a sweet dream of nice Professors and dancing cupcakes to a harsh scream of fright wanting to break past his lips. Yet, this time it was not because of the images he saw flashing before his eyelids but someone, something corporeal, had clapped a strong and calloused hand over his mouth.

The strong grip across his nose and mouth nearly suffocated Harry with its bruising force, effectively muffling any of the young wizard's screams or cries for help before he was forcefully dragged from out of his bed and pushed roughly to the floor. The back of his head painfully banging against the stone floor several times as the forceful figure continuously banged his shoulders against the floor, ensuring that Harry felt every single stab of pain inflicted on him with bruising force. The scraggly man, even though he was so thin, Harry was surprised at the strength he displayed in inflicting his pain and subtle torture in weakening his opponent with concussion. Tugging the now forcibly complaint third year onto a bony shoulder that dug sharply into Harry's abdomen, accidentally giving Harry a brief view of crazed grey eyes flashing with pure hatred and disgust at his mere presence.

Harry could almost taste it on his tongue, that ugly sneer that tugged at the man's cracked and bloodied lips. The bitter emotion directed at him caused the young wizard's stomach to turn and roil with the remains of his sweet treacle tart after dinner pudding. The sudden movement over the man's shoulder setting the back of Harry's head on fire and caused his already blurry vision to become blotchy with black spots and his mind to swirl with incoherent and disjointed thoughts.

Through dazed eyes Harry watched as thin fingers stole one of his dorm mates' wands from his bedside stand and there, beneath the light of the moon, curled up against the pillow where he had been sleeping moments before was his Puffskein, Aysu. Now no longer letting out a soft hum of contentment that had always soothed Harry into sweet, silly dreams. No, those beady eyes set deeply into bright turquoise fluff were wide awake as he scrambled from the pillow to run for help, Harry just hoped his beloved pet's screeches and odd barking sounds would wake up someone before this could get out of hand.

Harry who had mistakenly fallen asleep with his glasses and a book in his lap was now able to vaguely recognize the man that had stolen him from his bed and the terror of the situation screamed through his mind like fingernails scratching against a chalkboard. His fingers having scrabbled for his wand mere moments before and missed before he had hit the floor with a jarring crash had left Harry feeling quite exposed and vulnerable in his unarmed state. He did not know if he would survive the next hour, for even now as they tracked through the halls, angry muttering ringing through the halls, there were undoubtedly Wanted Posters decorating the common room notice boards of every House in Hogwarts, classroom and plastered haphazardly across the halls to all show the exact same crazed eyes and matted hair as the man who was carrying him away.

There was no doubt that this was Sirius Black, the man that had betrayed his parents to the Dark Lord Voldemort and left him an orphan at barely a year old. Harry whimpered painfully as his head bumped against the stone wall of the hallways, mourning the fact that he was completely helpless against Black. There was no way he could fight against the spell that was keeping him immobile, silent but also strangely complaint. His dazed mind throbbing with waves of blinding pain and ragging confusion.

Things for the third year Ravenclaw had turned dangerously dire.

Harry so desperately wanted to scream, to claw his way out of the man's grasp but it was impossible, the wand he had stolen, with just a simple flick had taken Harry's voice and his will so that could not even lift a finger in his defence and the worst thing was that Harry was painfully conscious throughout the trek through the hallways of Hogwarts Castle. His mind screaming as up and up and up they went, walking slowly through the empty corridors of Hogwarts; past hidden alcoves, moving staircases, locked classroom and with each jarring step forward Harry saw stars explode behind his eyes.

He shivered abruptly at the cold wind that brushed against his thin pyjama clad body, trying hard to decipher the muttering words breathed by the escaped convict and still the sudden flash of excruciating pain erupting across his shoulder as he thrown harshly to the floor of the observatory tower. Three flicks of a stolen wand later and the third year student felt the space hum with the unmistakable buzz of a silencing charm and found strangely that he could finally move freely again even though it felt as if his mind was swimming through deep depths of useless mind, eating at his coherent thoughts.

Spending most of his energy just to pull himself onto his knees, Harry was surprised to feel that it no longer mattered if he could move because he soon enough felt himself face down on the floor again; writhing this time, squirming and pulling at his hair as the most excruciating pain he had ever felt before in his live, lighted like liquid lava through his veins and raced across his nervous system. Setting alight nerve endings he never knew even existed and causing his muscles to twitch and contract in spasms of agonizing pain. There was no relief, no reprieve and vaguely in the far off distance Harry could hear screaming so loud that it scratched painfully against his skull; screams that in a far off reality he knew somehow belonged to him.

The more silent but still noticeable demented cackles of his captor clearly enjoying his pain was what eventually allowed for large, fat tears to cascade down the blood-red head's flushed cheeks.

"I always knew that Lily would ruin James. I blame yourexistence for their loss but alas it had to done. The Dark Lord will not be denied when his wishes are to be fulfilled." Harry shuddered with the aftershocks as the curse was let up, leaning numbly on his side to vomit out the contents of his stomach in sickening retching sounds. He was so numb; his mind so sluggish that the third year student could barely even hear what was being said by his captor. His fingers still spasmodically twitching against the icy cold floor as he closed his brilliant green eyes to just feel his breaths strain against his lungs, trying to find a way for it to stop hurting. When he came back to himself Harry wished for nothing more than to dig his nails into the man's eyes and tug them out in boiling anger at the insults hurled at his beloved mother's 'blood status'.

"Oh, such lovely eyes. You look so much like her, that same fire and determination. I will enjoy breaking you before even thinking of granting you death." Harry's world shattered once again with unbelievable pain, his ears ringing with the singular shout of 'Crucio' and his own ear splitting screams once again drowned out all the other coherent thoughts he had managed seconds before. In that awareness of only pain and the state of his body, the young Ravenclaw wanted nothing more than to die to just escape it. The small ache from the bump on his head was not even close to what he was feeling now and it was slowly sapping away his will to survive the next few minutes.

Please, please. Someone find me. Please. I can't...

Severus Snape had always been quite an extraordinary student, Professor, Potions Master and Head of House. Adding to his unusual talent for outstanding Occlumency and brewing perfect potions, he possessed a rare aptitude for Celestial Walking or in laymen's terms, Corporeal Astral Projection. Deep into the night, when all students were supposed to be in bed and wandering peacefully in dreamland, Severus automatically marked essays and exams before splitting his consciousness from his body and created a corporeal ghost-like figure of his student-self. Leaving his office to stalk the halls of Hogwarts in search of rule breakers, late night snoggers or perhaps bearing a hope that a Gryffindor was doing something stupid.

Severus enjoyed the all knowing reputation the students seemed to have of him, knowing very well that he stalked the halls late into the night, catching them in their wrong doings quite easily enough to deter them from ever trying it again. However, Severus could only manage the state of his student-self for two hours at a time; four if he was really pushing it. So that night, with the cold creeping into the dungeons with a vengeance, Severus was unusually uneasy as he walked through the halls. His long black lanky hair like a curtain around his restless black eyes, his unusually tall limbs carrying him through the halls as he clutched a book to his chest to 'blend in' with his surrounding and creep up on unsuspecting students.

The hallways seemed that much longer, that much colder as the hour moved on and time ticked by unnaturally slow as the clocks approached midnight. Severus' reluctance in being outside of his bed and a strange tentative fear that settled across his skin, set alight his mind with many swirling thoughts and unnamed emotion, something that he had not anticipated or knew how to make sense of quite yet. After an hour long patrol of the castle and finding no students out of bed, Severus was wont to return to himself and go off to bed and he was increasingly unwilling to climb the stairs of the Astronomy Tower.

The teenaged figure stilled however at a small unnatural sound echoing past his ears, brushing against him like a heavily muffled howl. With a resigned sigh, even in knowing that it was unlikely for a student to venture up the stairs in this freezing cold flurry, Severus began ascending the stairs to finish his duty for the night. Suddenly a strange sensation overcome his mind, likened to walking on to face his own death. The feeling that erupted across his skin, pushed incessantly into his mind was that something, somewhere was just not right. Something was out of place and very much niggling at the back of his mind, screaming at him to call forth his earthly form and prepare for the worst.

As was his wont to do, Severus ignored this sudden eruption of intuition and pushed it aside, hoping that he was wrong and that his worst fears would not be realized. Out of caution though he pulled to him some of his magic, allowing it to solidify his form a bit more as he wondered whether to send a Patronus to Albus or keep his emotions quiet for now.

The higher and higher he climbed up the stairs, the more Severus realized that something else despite his concerns were tugging him forward, leading him up and up the desolately lonely staircase where he frowned at the sudden brush of tingling magic reaching across his skin. The unmistakable caress and distinctive hum of breaching someone's carefully concealed ward for silence was disconcerting the moment he stepped within the boundaries of the spell. For having been nearly knocked backwards at rasping screams upon screams of agony that railed desperately against the impenetrable barrier, Severus felt himself holding onto the last thread of his careful control. His protective instincts, despite rarely showcasing them to students, immediately on high alert and increase at a rapid pace as his numb feet carried him hurriedly up the last of the steps.

His breath rasped in his throat painfully as he saw the mess that greeted him at the top of the stairs. He let go some of his awareness to call forth a burst of blinding light, a galloping doe Patronus heading deep into the castles with a single instruction. However, his quick message had attracted the attention of two sets of eyes. One maliciously grey and the other, sweet and brilliantly green, so overrun with pain and desperation that it made his breath stall in his chest.

"P-please! H-h-h-el..." The child trailed off, his sentence ending in convulsing lungs as he struggled to draw in a proper breath.

Severus brusquely made his way towards the innocent child's side, wincing at the sight he made sprawled on the ground and internally hoping that he had not been too late. For desolately laying on the cold floor of the tower, bravely fighting off the aftershocks of not one but probably many Cruciatus curses, was the last student Severus ever wanted to see in such a desperate situation. Harry James Potter, the child that looked so much like his beloved Lily, one of the best Potioneers in his class and the fabled child of Prophecy that reminded him constantly of his failure to protect her. He looked so lost and forlorn upon the stone cold floor, his blood seeping into the stone from several painful cuts littering his arms and torso and clearly shivering at the work of several dangerous curses and hexes. Severus shivered seeing the child in such a mess of tortured pain and shattered resolve, he doubted that even the Dark Lord could have caused this much damage.

Those eyes were so dull, so dead. Those beautiful dark red locks, kept quite long for a boy, matted in blood and the remains of his sick reminded Severus too much that it could have been Lily on the floor. The reminiscent pain that erupted across his heart was quite surprising for Severus did not even flinch when he easily dodged a binding spell, the words of: 'Oh look, little Snivellus decided to join us.' ramming through his consciousness in realization of just who the perpetrator was. In a flash of blinding anger Severus called upon his magical core and raised his fingers to wandlessly and wordlessly cast a painful binding spell. Not even offering his opponent the chance to raise his wand against him. With the last of his control he summoned the dangerous wand from the escaped convict's fingers and kept it close in case Black managed to wriggle out of his spell.

With the stone floor scraping painfully through his trousers when he knelt by Harry's side, Severus was afraid to find that the small wraith like child really did not look good, he had clearly not fared well with the torture session. In fact, Severus was sure that if he had arrived moments later, he would probably have been long dead and not one staff member had even been so much as aware of the imminent danger awaiting them inside the fortified castle. How could they have missed this? How could they have so much as thought Potter would be safe with a raging lunatic on the loose?

It was insanity and he would not stand for his students to be placed in such danger, the child had, according to Lupin, been suffering a great deal from the presence of the Dementors as well. It inconcieve-.

"W-who? H-he...won't...c-come..ba?" The tentative call of Potter's confused words brought Severus back to himself and he winced visibly at the pain clouding those emerald green eyes, out of uncharacteristic concern for the child's health and needing to assuage his own fears, Severus quietly placed his hand over Harry's wrist to feel for a fluttering pulse. When the third was clearly struggling to breathe, Severus carefully lifting his head to rest in his lap to clear his airways. Without his wand and true form, administering first aid was that much more difficult and he found himself being exceptionally careful of the wound on the back Harry's.

Absently smoothing back brilliant red hair from an ashen pale forehead and wiped away the wetness of ugly tear blotched cheeks.

"You are safe now. The Headmaster will be arriving soon, he will never be able to hurt you again." He murmured, his voice momentarily seeming to still the frightened thirteen-year-old's distress, those dilated eyes imploring him not to leave, even relaxing into him as Severus uncharacteristically found himself comforting his best friend's only child.

"Y-you...won't...lea...leave?" Harry trailed off with what sounded like a pained wet cough, heart hammering painfully against the Potion Master's palm as the teen tried to sit up, only to find himself gently being pushed back against the ground as long fingers, fingers that seemed so loving and gentle, kept him from hurting himself more than he already was. In the distance he could hear shouts, rushing footsteps and the strange barking like sound of his Puffskein as he howled because of his master's distress and pain. His loving pet that had grown so attached to him when Hagrid had given him to Harry as his first ever birthday present, he really love Aysu and he would not take him for granted again.

"Hush now. Close your eyes and try to not think of the pain. Professor Dumbledore will be here soon with Madam Pomfrey." There was a minute nod against Severus' thigh as the Ravenclaw did as he was told, drifting in and out of consciousness and in turn caused Snape to curse himself for his own weakness as he angrily brushed away at the itching sensation at the back of his eyelids. His action causing the wizard to convulse with another aftershock of that curse, Severus patiently brushed the tips of his fingers to wipe away the tears as they came trickling from beneath coal black lashes.

"W-who...are...you?"

"Just a passing ghost, now close your eyes. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. I vow that to you, Harry." There was a few more seconds of silence before Severus heard the sharp intake of the Headmaster as he came rushing forward, a strong hand resting on his shoulder as if the old wizard was trying to steady himself from what he had just seen.

"Severus, my boy. What had happened? Will he be alright?"

"Please stay with him Headmaster, I need to gather some potions and return to myself. Madam Pomfrey will be here soon."

Harry drifted in and out of awareness to his surroundings, he could hear the bustle of robes, soft, urgent whispers and several calls of his names trying to raise him from his semi-conscious state. Vaguely he was aware of warmth so deep seated with affection and comfort enclosing his left hand that it was not only a source of comfort for him, but a sensation he never wished to let go of. It was a sweet soothing balm to his affection starved body, a touch of comfort and understanding he had craved his entire life but never received. It made warmth so deep that it settled in his stomach like a brush of restlessly butterflies, stalling some of the pain he could still feel wracking his body.

The brush of a thumb across his knuckles, so tender in touch that the young wizard almost thought he had imaged it all, but for the soothing words whispered in his ear by a deep baritone, kept Harry clinging stubbornly to the last thread of his conscious will. Wishing never to let go of the small peaceful feeling lighting through his veins. Yet, before the young wizard could attempt to crack open his eyes, the all consuming darkness and waves of pain racing up his spine made sure that Harry faded once again.

Resting dangerously on that edge of all consuming oblivion where it was beckoning him forward with the promise of sweet rapturous rest. Harry was reluctant to follow the tug behind his navel but eventually let up when his cottony thoughts, sluggish breathing and pained limbs forced him to drown in the abyss of unconscious darkness. The startling sensation of drowning was a brief reprieve of rest before a blinding headache was once again building behind Harry's eyes.

The castle walls and hallways were beginning to reconstruct themselves around him, carrying his awareness back into the past as the flashes of a painful memory clinging to the castle foundations fluttered before his tired eyes in teasing welcome. His unconscious state pulling Harry back to the place where he had just experienced the worst night of his life, the place that he was slowly but surely beginning to hate despite his aptitude for the subject. With his mind wandering, almost like within a Pensieve, he observed the play of the past, knowing that this cold and dark memory was going to leave him gasping through empathetic tears and gasps of pain afterwards.

Hogwarts Astronomy Tower; 1976:

It was cold, a flurry of snow was enveloping the entirety of Hogwarts' grounds in an endless display of magical purity. The Astronomy Tower floor was covered in its own fine mist of miniscule snowflakes, swirling like fine dust when the wind visited its presence upon the open room. The large open stone arches set around the towering spire at regular intervals, lighted upon the span of a perfect night sky. There was not a single cloud obscuring the moon or stars, the wind was brusque and cold and in the distant reaches of the sky peaks of pitch black ripping into the dark blue sky were the only indication that the distant Scottish Mountaintops still existed in the vast nightscape.

At the very edge of the tower, with only the full moon for company, was a single student forlornly gazing upon the vast expanse of the teasing night sky. His posture strangely defensive with gloved fingers clutching at the protective railing; a second hand winter cloak doing precious little to keep out the bite of the chillingly cold winter night with his shoulders hunched over and shivering. Hands clenching and unclenching upon the stone railing; his wand clasped protectively between constantly moving fingers like a special treasure, one to never let go of. A hooked nose stained red with the frosty wind and eyes of infinite black, as depthless as the stars, were rimmed red with shameful tears and unknown emotion.

The tall figure, taller and lankier than most teen's his age, seemed overwhelmed sorrow and an internal pain so palpable and intense that it carved a latent memory upon the foundations of the castle. Preserving the moment in a flurry of swirling emotions, a desperate cry for help and deep regret. However, all went unheard as the footsteps of salvation upon the spiral staircase never came; only the howling wind and shivering cold his solitary companion and witness for the next ten minutes of internal agony and tangible fear.

Dark eyes turned forlornly to the horizon, within the depthless sorrow filled eyes was a steely determination of dark intent. A hidden helplessness that was enough to set the silent observer's fine hairs on end with trepidation. For he may not have understood what was happening but all the same he felt the desperation rolling off of the older teen in waves, it was enough to steal away one's breath and aloof control. With a single tear, glistening like an ever-pure crystal dipped in insatiable grief, streaking a path down a flushed gaunt cheek, thin lips pulled into a determined, disgusted sneer. An ebony coloured wand raised in the moonlight, ominously hovering over a pale wrist, now revealed by methodically pushed up robes.

"'Let no one who loves be called altogether unhappy'", words of folly spoken in pure jest, surly, Headmaster for you to quote it so lovingly." A sneer of hatred curled thin lips, lighting upon features that suddenly seemed overwhelmingly familiar. "What had I expected from trying to find purpose within a Muggle's words from you, old man? For within me there is nothing but pain and desperate suffering!" His desperate sobbing shout was swallowed up by the chasing winds and silent Tower walls, the vast distance beyond the Tower not even shifting with his cry.

"Unrequited love is the most painful, you see. As it offers no lasting salvation for anyone suffering of the damned affliction. It makes me question my very purpose amongst these hollow walls every damnable day. A purpose I know I shall never find again after its loss!" Silvery rays from the shining face of the moon glinted and reflected off of curtain-like coal black hair. Dark eyes, desperate in their despairing emotion, turned almost patiently towards the face of the full moon one last time with dark determination. A sad smile, filled with regret and begging forgiveness, flitted briefly upon thin lips, yet in finding no reprieve the students was left scrabbling for control moments later through blinding pain and oncoming darkness. Thin lips pulled taught in careful control before a soft brush of green light illuminated pale features in a brief flash. A whispered spell, softly spoken in musical note, echoed into the night with purposeful intent in what seemed like a whispered song for salvation.

The cut was purposefully so deep that the vein, pulsing fat with blood, desperately leaked the rivulets of bloodied red upon the cold stone floor. The thin dusting of pure snow soon stained with a dark red pool growing rapidly in size when the darkened figure calmly slit his other wrist with the same methodical action of control. His bottom lip, now bleeding where he had bitten through it mattered not for her was finally done, his pure relief was curling around the atmosphere in strange intensity.

The student's back sliding against the thin stone railing post as he settled on the ground and waited, tilting his head back to observed the beauty of winter lighted stars whilst his life-force calmly drained out his body. The distinctive scent of freshly spilt blood permeating the air before the howling wind suddenly stole away all of his wrongdoings. The figure was so lost in his own awareness of waiting for things to come to an end that he did not hear the sudden rush of footsteps upon the wooden staircase, a head of deep red hair trailing behind a rushing girl came into sight. She was roughly the same age as the boy and in seeing his state let out an audible gasp filled with pain, kneeling by his side, barely able to stifle her distress. She did simply not care as blood seeped into her uniform and stained her hands.

"Sev?! What have you done! SEV?! Look at me! No! You cannot leave me!" Her hysterical cries cut deeply into the night as she flicked her own wand, shooting endless sparks of red into the sky in hopes that someone would see and come find the, her prayers heard by the castle walls as she begged for her friend's life, a friend who was now so pale and unresponsive that he had merely minutes left to live as the pool of blood around him kept growing. She was clearly at a loss of what to do as the girl's pale fingers were trembling profusely as she rested her fingers upon a pale cheek. Ashen pale eyelids slid open hazily, dark dazed eyes staring in awe at the apparition of beauty before him with something akin to pain and not relief, shame and fear.

The look of affection passing through his eyes however was something she missed despite it being something to behold. His cheek tilting to the side as he leaned into her hand.

"You shouldn't have come. Why have you come Lily?" He rasped, his words slurred and slow, inconsolably stained with notes of internal suffering. Long, curtain like hair lolling to the side as dark eyes never faltered from the orbs of green that had captivated him the moment he had open his eyes to the vague recognition of her voice. The girl, Lily as he had called her, was now openly sobbing, her fingers digging into the front of his robes before desperately attempting to stifle the bleeding of his wrist by clamping her hands across the deadly self-inflicted wound. It did not help, for her crying only increased as she screamed in her anguish. Her yells crying out through the night with such volume that half the castle must have awoken from it.

"Sev? Sev how could you think I would not come?! You are my only friend, my most cherished brother. I cannot just leave you to die! No matter how much you hurt me with your words; you mean the world to me. So please, please stop this. I don't want to lose you. I cannot lose..." Her head of wavy red hair cascading across his shoulders to tickle the dark student's cheeks as she rested against her 'Sev's' chest. Sobbing helplessly into his school robes, her desperate pain and sorrow just as palpable as his and just as dangerous. He did not move, his dark eyes just staring straight ahead, lids drooping low in exhaustion from his immense blood loss.

"Please Severus. Please, please, please do not go. Not yet. Not yet, we still have to graduate together. We still have to learn, make mistakes and build stronger our eternal friendship. Please."

"You..will... Nev... under...tand..." Severus' chest heaved with his breaths, dark eyes becoming unfocused as he stared at the blur that her face made hovering before him. Other footsteps, frantic and loud in their tread, could be heard echoing up the staircase and stamping upon the wooden planks with hurried determination.

A shuddering breath was dragged into the bleeding student's lungs with desperate pain, his pale skin glittering in a sheen of fevered pearls of perspiration. A bloodied hand, raised with shaking exhaustion and determined will brushed delicately along a soft cheek wet with tears, smearing blood across the flesh, dripping onto her robes and staining blood red hair before it fell to his side once again, boneless and breathless he slumped forward into her chest, not even hearing her anguished scream...

"I..." He trailed off, a spell of pure white surrounding his form before the light of moon illuminated Professor Dumbledore standing a few feet away from them, wand drawn, looking grave and exhausted as he rushed the last few steps to kneel beside the two friends almost entwined in an eternal embrace.

"Silly child, you have so much promise. So much love, do not give up now."He murmured to himself, gnarled old fingers brushed away inky black strands affectionately from the boy's relaxed features, who now seemed only to be peacefully asleep. However its appearance was deceiving, the silent observer knew as the blue eyes of the Headmaster looked grave, his wand waving once more to create a stretcher. .

"Alert Madam Pomfrey of what is going on Miss Evans, I can keep him stable until he gets there." She did not wait, snapped from her trance like state, red hair trailing behind her in a flurry of dark robes as her legs carried her desperately into the depths of the magical castle, carrying her in desperation as fast as they could. Silence reigned as the Headmaster tenderly, with no hint of anger or disappointment, levitated the boy onto the stretcher and made sure he would not fall off.

Green eyes fluttered open from behind pale lashes, several tears of emotional anguish having wetted his cheeks as the dream finally came to a bitter end. The inherent warmth of a hand encircling his own, once again greeted Harry upon his wakeful state and only added to his confusion. The images from his latent-sight trickling past his internal defences as he allowed for more tears to slip past his black eyelashes, he just stopped short of letting out a full blown sob at the empathetic emotions he felt brushing against the walls of his heart.

The dark stranger, the teen who had now carved a remembrance upon his heart, so desperately lost upon the tower in his own pain and suffering was eating away at Harry's emotions and control. The child of night had not survived that night had he? No, Harry could feel it. In brief flashes of his own suffering night at the same place, came trickling back with the touch of aches and pains setting alight the sensitive nerves across his own being. He could with clear horror recall most of the details of what had happened.

The cold but gentle touch brushing away his tears when the excruciating pain had finally stopped and allowed him to breathe, then carding almost lovingly, like a parent comforting a child, through his hair as deep soothing whispers of sweet nothings of comfort caressed his ears. He remembered the same striking features, inky black hair and hooked nose, after his suffering he would never forget them.

Promising himself that he would never even think of forgetting the one who had saved his life. Severus, as he recalled the suicide student's name, had been his salvation when there was nothing left for him to want to live for. That small but gentle reprieve from the curses Black had used against him were enough to make the young Ravenclaw eternally grateful and wanting nothing more than to thank his savour. His words...such sorrow filled words...he remembered them well.

'Just a passing ghost,'

Yes, Harry sadly realized it now. Severus of the Tower had just been a passing ghost, one that Harry desperately wanted to see again to thank for his help but knew it was probably just a passing fancy that would never come true. Harry also wished to comfort the pain and anguish he had just witnessed in his dream, wanting desperately to help just as his mother had...

Only Harry did not know if he could ever find him again. A pained whimper escaped passed closed lips, causing the young teen flush in embarrassment; completely having forgotten that someone was still patiently holding onto his hand and offering his endless reams of comfort he had never felt before. Turning his head to the side, eyes the colour of glittering emeralds widened in surprise at what he found. The usually dour and bitter Potions Professor of Hogwarts was fast asleep upon a chair next to his hospital bed. Potion stained fingers, surprisingly untainted by calluses, the hand that had been comforting him in his pain and suffering. The larger hand that Harry now surprisingly found himself instinctively closing his own smaller fingers against.

It came not only as a great surprise, but a shock as well. For even though Harry was one of the Professor's most established students, the surly Potions Master was only borderline civil to him, of not downright hateful. He had never been gentle, caring and understanding as he now seemed to be in comforting Harry in his sleep. The dark teacher looked so much younger, slightly familiar and surprisingly gentle whilst his slumbered in his exhaustion. The mere thought of his Professor being gentle with him made young Harry uncomfortable, squirming under the sheets and not knowing what to expect should he wake up or if it was even allowed for a student to be comforted like this by a Professor.

It seemed highly unlikely.

"Professor? P-professor Snape? Please wake up." Harry called softly, hating the way his voice cracked and his throat was set aflame by the whispered words. He launched in a coughing fit that was quite painful, eyes widening in surprise when infinitely dark eyes snapped open. A second later his teacher's dark wand was drawn and with a flick caused several multicoloured potions to come flying into his hand, long fingers curling around the crystal vial with careful precision. The third year Ravenclaw watched in fascination and slight trepidation as two potion vials were hastily uncorked and pushed into his hand. The cool glass momentarily causing him to take in a shuddering breath.

"Drink them." Professor Snape ordered in dark waning and Harry hesitated for only a second, knowing that he would not be told to do so again civilly. Harry did as he was told, nearly gagging at the taste as he tipped back the contents with trepidation and a touch of fear. He was surprised however, that the pain dulled almost immediately and not only in his damaged throat but inducing a new state of relief upon his tired and aching limbs. Harry still felt tired and jittery with latent aftershocks of the curse and fought valiantly against the droop of his lashes and the yawn wanting to stretch his jaw.

He desperately wanted to stay awake, wanting to know what happened and how he had gotten to the sterile scented infirmary. His Potions Professor, smirking at his attempt to hide his exhaustion, leaned over the bed to rested a cool hand across Harry's brow. Checking for a fevered temperature and simultaneously calming Harry's deep seated trembling and fear. His eyes nearly closing on their own accord before he forced a question past his lips.

"W-what happened?" He eventually managed, fingers resting in his lap twining together fidgeting as Harry managed to keep open his eyes. The wariness and exhaustion seeming to ebb away in the slow spread of warmth induced by the potions, stilling his roiling and turning stomach. He noticed absently that the sun was already streaming in from the windows, white snow, freshly fallen from the night before, gathered on the windowsills like a glittering blanket of pearl white. It successfully distracted Harry from his dangerous train of through until the Professor seemed to reach to the floor, picking up something by his feet. In his hand was a familiar ball of fluff with wild turquoise hair, beady lazy eyes alight with happiness at the sight of its master.

"Aysu!" Harry exclaimed, happy to have his loyal pet dancing across his lap in circles before it settled there in quiet sleepiness. Harry's fingers resting in its thick fur before a loud humming noise soothingly in its delight drifted through the air, the Puffskein's soft body squirming into Harry's touch and steeling the teen's attention from his Professor. The young Ravenclaw so caught up in his pet that he did not see the wistful smile tugging at his Professor's lips or the dark sorrow lighting in his eyes. Eyes he would easily have identified had he noticed them.

"It seems that a ghost found you in the Astronomy Tower," Professor Snape began, tugging the teen from his familiar as he looked up in surprise. Emerald collided with deep black, keeping their gaze neutral for several moments before Aysu decided he wanted more attention and pulled Harry's attention back to him. "Professor Dumbledore was alerted to the danger and your familiar, in concern for your health, had already made its way to the Headmaster's office. Scratching at the door and whining untill the Headmaster came out to find it." There was a slight pause in Professor Snape's words as he looked out of the window now, rising from his chair before standing at Harry's side for a while. His hand resting on the teen's shoulder as a pillar of strength and grounding concern.

"It seems that Sirius Black managed to sneak into the castle late last night; breached the Ravenclaw dormitory and kidnapped you from your bed. I do not know how he managed it but he dragged you up to the Astronomy Tower, tortured you and was about to kill you when a Hogwarts ghost managed a bit of magic and bound him before sending for help. You were found just in time and I still wander how you managed to live through more than twenty minutes under the Cruciatus Curse. But that does not matter anymore. You were found alive and he was finally captured last night."

"The Ministry should be here soon to take him back to Azkaban, Professor Dumbledore is keeping watch over him."

"H-he won't be able to hurt me again?" Harry asked meekly, the fingers buried in the soft fur of his companion, tugging a bit too tightly as the Professor's matter of fact voice relied the details. Turning his eyes towards the sterile floor, Harry looked away in search of some form of control as the mere mention of Black's name had him trembling in fear of the pain he had caused and would have done should he not have been stopped.

In seeing his suffering, the Professor's voice suddenly turned soft, gentle and reassuring.

"No, he will never be able to hurt you again Harry. Never again."

The red haired youth murmured a soft 'thank you' before chancing a glance at his Potions Professor, from behind his lashes, as his Professor turned away and in a flurry of black robes headed towards the exit. All indications of his former weakness gone as those strong shoulders were squared once again and a deep baritone called for the matron of the infirmary.

"You will be released in a week." Professor Snape called one last time. "I expect you back in my class, with top marks. No excuses Potter, I know of the considerable brain hiding between your ears. Now get some rest, I am sure that you need it after such a tiring ordeal." At his fading footsteps, Harry frowned and wiggled deeper under the covers of the infirmary bed, Aysu laying curled up against his chest as he soon emitted little snoring sounds in his sleep.

There was something...his familiar gave a high pitched croon and Harry sighed, ignoring his natural curiosity to the questions racing through his head. Young Harry, in his own confused thoughts and swimming remembrances too closed his eyes in hopes of finding some reprieve from his racing uneasiness that he was missing an important part of the story. He was only vaguely aware of the Madam Pomfrey as she fussed over his pained form, in fact he paid her no mind. There was something very important that he could not put his fingers on...

Later that day when he was awoken by an abrupt clap of thunder and the howling wind rattling the glass windows, green eyes snapped open to not a single soul present in the infirmary. Yet, sitting on the window seat, leaning against the cool window was a lone, shimmering figure. Dark eyes turning towards him at Harry's cry of surprise. Youthful features, dark, dark eyes and curtain like black hair shimmering in an eternal ethereal light that only the ghosts of Hogwarts were enveloped in.

A book of advanced potions clutched protectively to a thin chest, dark robes almost too big on his thin figure revealed the grey jumper beneath and a silvery green tie. Harry blinked several times, rubbing his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming and found that the shy ghost was still there, holding a silent vigil over his progress. Always watching over him silently, looking for any more dangerous threats and protecting his chosen charge late into the night. He offered a fleeting smile to the young Ravenclaw before hopping from his seat and walking towards Harry.

"Go to sleep." Harry, not sure why, suddenly felt very, very tired and his eyes slid shut without his consent. The familiar sensation of corporeal fingers brushing away blood red locks from his sweaty forehead allowing for a small moan to drift past Harry's lips.

"Thank you." Harry mumbled, almost purring into his pillow when a soft chuckle tickled his ears.

"Goodnight Harry."