Again.

And again.

And again.

Not until he felt like he'd splinched every body part he knew about and others he didn't did Harry Potter stop. He finally slumped to the grass, leaning against the back hedge of the Weasleys' property, feeling every inch the failure.

Hermione had mastered Apparating her second try. Even Ron had mastered it after the first few days of practice. But Harry? It was going on a month and still nothing. He'd left pieces of himself scattered all over the Burrow, much to everyone's disgust. That is, if he managed to move at all.

"You just need practice, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley chirped, but even her patience was starting to grow thin. Harry raked a hand through his hair and sighed as a shadow fell over him. Great. Someone else coming to have a laugh at him probably.

"Potter," the person said and he realised that no, it was worse. It was Severus Snape himself.

"Snape," he acknowledged shortly. The man sat down cross-legged in front of him, no longer blocking the sun. He looked as sour and greasy-haired as ever, despite the soft summer breeze.

"I hear you've been having trouble with Apparition," Snape said without preamble. Harry flushed scarlet before squeezing out a reluctant 'yes.'

"I just-I don't know what the bloody problem is, but I can't do it!" Harry finally burst out, his voice shriller than he'd intended. Horrified he'd just essentially yelled at his hated Potions professor, he went even redder and stared intently at the knots of grass by his knee.

"Did you know, Potter," Snape began almost conversationally. "That I couldn't Apparate properly for six months?"

"No, sir," Harry said, feeling dumbstruck. Snape? Had trouble with something?

"It was embarassing, of course," Snape continued. "Humiliating. Everyone else could do it, why couldn't I? That was the problem. Always was. You're focusing on the wrong thing, Potter."

"What do you mean?" Harry cocked his head, baffled. "I just focus on where I am and where I want to be..."

"Precisely," Snape interrupted. "And for most people, that is enough. But not for I, and apparently not for you."

"Well, then, what am I supposed to do then?" Harry snapped, his frustration making him dig his nails into his palms.

"First, apologise for that tone, Potter," Snape said, raising one eyebrow in that inimitable sneer. Harry nodded and quickly mumbled an apology. "Secondly-focus solely on where you want to be. Picture yourself there. Imagine you are already there. Block everything and everyone else out. Practice that."

"Thanks, professor," Harry said, feeling a second wind course through him. "I think I've got a handle on it now, then."

"Potter, wait," Snape tried to say, but Harry focused, attempted to Apparate, and...

Found half of him halfway up the garden and the other half by Snape.

A moment of agonising pain later and Snape had put him back together with a hasty wave of his wand. Harry scowled up at Snape, his lips writhing in that particular way they had when they'd been recently wrenched apart.

"I thought you said that would work!" he complained, rubbing at his arms and legs until the soreness went away.

Snape smirked.

"You need dinner and rest first, Potter," Snape said, turning back toward the house. "Even were you not doing it improperly, you've attempted far too many times in one day. Apparation is an exhausting process, and learning it doubly so. Practice tomorrow, and you will be much closer to having success." He Apparated away with a small pop of displaced air, as if to prove his point. Despite himself, Harry found himself smiling as he hobbled back for supper, Ron and Hermione coming out to meet him.

The next day, he Apparated perfectly from the front porch to the gate.