H.P.

Snape became fixated on Harry's need to master occlumency. He scheduled lessons frequently but not regularly, declaring that it would be best if the Dark Lord didn't determine a pattern so that he couldn't predict when Harry would become vulnerable. Not that Snape began with anything that would cause Harry's scar to act up. He had Harry practice just clearing his mind for well over a week, insisting that Harry had to be able to do it at an instant's notice.

Luckily Snape's insistence on secrecy hadn't extended to occlumency so Harry had been able to tell Hermione what he was doing, even if Snape's version of the truth meant she thought he was being taught by Dumbledore. Unfortunately, telling Hermione meant that she'd found no end of textbooks for him to read in the library.

"I've already got a book to read and I've barely started that one. I'm not going to read all of those," Harry said staring in horror at the stack of books Hermione had placed in front of him. "It's supposed to be a secret. It'll be really obvious what I'm learning if I start carting all those around."

Hermione had huffed in reply but relented.

"Why don't you read your occlumency text now then?" she suggested. Evidently she shared Snape's opinion that occlumency was the most important thing in his life. Harry wished he hadn't told her why it was so important he learn occlumency since she'd taken to pestering him about how his lessons were going whenever they had a moment alone, and considering Ron's conspicuous absence that was a lot more than usual.

"I'll read it later. I have enough time to do reading when I'm away from the tower."

All the nights away from the tower were difficult to explain away. Snape had said he could tell Hermione that he had to be monitored after his sessions but not by whom. When Harry asked about what to tell everyone else Snape had just sneered and asked why students seemed to believe they were entitled to whatever information they please.

The official line they decided on was that Harry was having private lessons with Dumbledore to give him a crash course in defensive spells before the triwizard tournament began to get him up to the level of the other champions and that he would naturally sustain minor injuries and need supervision and a check up before returning to the tower.

At the moment though, he was barely in the tower; he spent the majority of his time in the library with Hermione. Ron refused to come around and Harry had no intention of forcing the issue with him. He was either his friend or not.

Hermione seemed to sense his thoughts. "If you'd just speak to Ron, the two of you could sort this out. I know you want your friend back..."

"He's not talking to me either and I don't see why I should be the one to–" Harry lowered his voice at a glare from Madam Pince. "He's the one who's decided I put my name in the goblet, it's his problem."

"Oh, but Harry, don't you see? It's your problem too. You miss him."

"I don't need a friend like that. I'll talk to him when he admits he was wrong. I don't want to be in this tournament and if I had my way I wouldn't be in it at all!"

He was so close to telling Hermione that he might not have to compete. It frustrated him to no end that he still couldn't tell his friends anything, not that Snape and Dumbledore were working on getting him out of the tournament, or about Harry and Snape getting on. Harry had hoped that when Snape relented slightly about the occlumency he could get him to ease up with the secrecy but Ron's attitude had destroyed any hope of Snape believing his friends were trustworthy.

"Lets just do Flitwick's essay okay? I've got lessons with Dumbledore after dinner tomorrow so I won't have time then."

The only thing that could be said for hanging out in the library was that it was making his grades better but he'd never have sacrificed Ron for a few more Es or Os, not in a million years.

---

It seemed pretty obvious to Harry that Snape was hesitant to actually teach him occlumency in case his scar went off again, but eventually he deemed that Harry was ready to practice occluding and he finally begun invading Harry's mind properly. The problem was, he had clearing his mind sorted but he didn't really understand how to keep Snape out of it or how to kick him out once he got in.

The evenings became a tense affair, with Harry tired and aching, not to mention annoyed at what Snape had seen. Snape had offered to let him use his pensieve and Harry had, for all those memories that stuck out as particularly painful, but he could hardly sit there all night while Snape took every bad memory of his family from his head.

Besides, he didn't even realise half of what was even in there. Stupid things really, like when he was seven and dropped a glass in the kitchen and he'd stood terrified as his uncle stormed into the kitchen to rage at him or when Dudley had gotten a brand new bike and Harry had been aching to have one of his own, or even have a go on his.

"That last memory?" Snape asked after their fourth session as Harry took a gulp of water and retreated to the couch.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. It had been a rough end to an otherwise good day. It wasn't often in his childhood that the house would be blissfully Dudley and Uncle Vernon free and it was his good luck that Aunt Petunia had been having tea with one of her friends, leaving Harry gloriously free to entertain himself in the garden. He'd even got a chance to kick around Dudley's football seeing as no one was about to notice. The only thing that could ruin such a perfect afternoon was that Harry had stumbled quite happily into the kitchen and without realising had brought in what Aunt Petunia had screeched was 'half the back garden'.

"Aunt Petunia likes things clean."

"It was an entirely disproportionate punishment for a bit of dirt."

"I'm used to cleaning," Harry shrugged. Bit of screaming, clean up the mess, no dinner, into the cupboard. Pretty standard punishment as the Dursleys went.

"The way she dealt with you was inappropriate. You did nothing to warrant that treatment."

"I got used to it. Scrubbing the floors and going without dinner was hardly the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"That doesn't mean that this instance was insignificant. I know that you did not view it as such," Snape finished in as gentle voice as he'd ever used. Harry scowled in reply. He'd been eight, of course he'd been a bit bloody teary!

"I have a bunch of charms work to do," Harry replied, changing the subject quickly as he always did when the conversation became uncomfortable. "Can I borrow some parchment?"

Snape regarded him silently before giving into the request.

Despite the occlumency lessons, the nights Harry spent in Snape's quarters were pleasant ones. He suspected that Snape still felt guilty about how he'd treated Harry, considering that not once after they finished their occlumency session did Snape go off to brew leaving Harry alone. Instead, he would keep him company in the living room either marking his own papers or helping him with his work.

"What's that?" Harry asked, when his own essay got too boring to continue.

"Hmm?" Snape replied, concentrating on his notes and riffling quickly through a stack of parchment. Harry shuffled over on the sofa until he was close enough to look at his papers. There didn't look like there was an awful lot of his own work there, just pages and pages about headache draughts and curse scars.

"Did you want something?" Snape asked, looking down at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you finish your other potion? The one to prevent pain or something."

"No, I've put that particular project on hold. This is rather more urgent..." Snape replied, seeming to find whatever he was looking for but then scowling deeply.

"Is this to do with me?" Harry asked, seeing that Snape had underlined a passage relating to the interaction between curse scars and potions.

"You need a potion that's effective against the pain in your scar. The ones I give you either deal only with the physical effects or do nothing at all."

"Thanks," Harry replied, touched. "But... I know your other potion was important."

"It wasn't important in comparison to this. My problem with your scar is that it's entirely unique. No one else has survived the killing curse so there's no previous reference to how to treat pain in your situation."

"Professor Moody said that in defence ages ago," Harry said, frowning at the memory. "Ron said I was a bit unforgivable proof because I can throw off the Imperius curse too."

Snape looked over at him sharply. "Run that by me again, I believe I'm missing something."

"Well, I didn't die when Voldemort tried to Avada Kedavra me and I can break out of the Imperius curse. I don't know about Cruciatus; I wouldn't want to test that out."

"Who used the Imperius curse on you?" Snape growled, catching Harry off guard.

"Professor Moody, in class. He did it to everyone."

"Unforgivables on students? He's casting Unforgivables on students? Why didn't you say anything?" Snape roared, suddenly on his feet, his papers scattering all over the floor.

"It's not like it's a secret; he did it to everyone. Er, I think you might be overreacting a bit," Harry added, as Snape stood, seething.

"It is an Unforgivable curse, Harry. The mere use of it against another person is life in Azkaban. He had no right! What did he have you do?"

"Just jump around the room a bit. I mostly fell over," Harry replied keeping his tone as casual as possible to try and keep Snape from getting even more angry.

"If he so much as draws his wand on you again then you tell me, Harry! He dares traipse around my dungeons," Snape began muttering angrily, pacing back and forth by the fire. Harry thought it was a bit much for Snape to say he should have spoken to him seeing as they were barely communicating at the start of term but decided not to say so in case it set Snape off yelling again.

S.S.

Unforgivables on students! That lunatic had some nerve calling Severus' loyalties into question when he uses dark curses on children. The headmaster would certainly be hearing about this! If anyone in this castle needed watching it was Moody.

He wanted to go now, to tell Dumbledore that he'd gone one worse this year. Last year a werewolf and this year a madman; who'd be teaching defence next year, a bloody Death Eater? He sat back down on the couch tapping his leg impatiently. He couldn't go now though, he needed to watch Harry in case he was attacked through his scar and he'd decided not to leave the child to his own devices when he had him over for the evening.

It wasn't any trouble to actually spend time with the boy and it was obvious that Harry appreciated the attention. After his dismal behaviour as a guardian at the start of term he knew that he could use the reassurance.

"Sir?" It wasn't lost on him that Harry had gone back to calling him Sir or Professor. He'd barely had a moment of being called Severus and he'd lost it immediately. "Professor Moody said that Dumbledore said it was OK. I think he said Dumbledore asked him to show us how the curses worked."

He did not. He did not. They've both gone mad; Moody and Dumbledore have gone mad.

---

"You have a mad man roaming this castle," he declared in a towering temper as he flooed into the headmaster's office.

"Severus do try and calm yourself, all this anger isn't good for you," the headmaster replied tiredly as if he'd had quite enough of Severus' anger this year already.

He tried to school his expression into something resembling calm professionalism but knew he'd failed. "Did you verify that Moody hadn't gone completely insane before you hired him?"

"It isn't too much trouble to ask that members of staff in this castle behave appropriately towards each other. I know there is animosity between the pair of you but this must stop. You are on the same side."

"I've not come to discuss his harassment of me. Did you ask him to cast unforgivable curses on the students?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. I merely permitted him to demonstrate the effects of the spells with some of the older students but certainly not by performing them on the students themselves."

"He's been using the Imperius curse on students in class under the pretext of instruction. He may well be doing it outside of class. The man isn't sane."

"You witnessed this yourself?" the headmaster asked, snapping instantly from weary tolerance to serious concern.

"No, Harry told me. From what he said, he's performed it on at least his entire class but I would assume the majority of the higher year students. If word got out, he'd be locked up. Not even his reputation as an auror would be enough to keep him out of Azkaban, people already think he's losing his mind."

"Mildly paranoid but certainly not insane, Severus. This is curious indeed. I'll be keeping a close eye on him. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"That's it? The man imperiused students!"

"This could be a good deal more serious than your personal vendetta against the man. Allow me some time to investigate the matter. Trust me, Severus."

He had no choice but to trust him. Insubordination where Harry was concerned was a personal matter, but this certainly was not. The headmaster would draw the line somewhere and Severus knew better than to cross it.

---

H.P.

A few days later Harry dropped into the seat next to Neville at breakfast. Hermione had dashed off to the library to check some fact or other before they handed in their herbology essays that morning leaving Harry at a bit of a loss. It was strange how he could miss his best friend when he was only a couple of seats away, although looking pointedly in the other direction.

"You all right, Neville?"

"I'm trying to finish Snape's questions..." he answered distractedly, not touching his food in favour of staring with despair at his parchment.

"That's not until after lunch. We've got Herbology first."

"It's not enough time. I just don't get potions," Neville replied anxiously. "And after what he's been saying about my essays and what he did to your work–" Harry winced, assuming he meant when Snape had burnt his work in front of the class.

"Don't worry about that Neville. I'm sure your work's fine."

Just then Harry was distracted by an unfamiliar owl dropping a letter on his bacon. He knew it was yet another message from Sirius. They'd been coming more and more often, bearing warnings to watch out for trouble 'where he least expected it' and that 'not everyone at Hogwarts could be trusted'. Sirius' letters had been getting increasingly agitated ever since Harry had revealed that his name had come out of the goblet of fire.

He hadn't hesitated to cast blame upon any and everyone Harry had mentioned, from Karkaroff to Malfoy to Snape. Harry had tactfully decided not to bring that up with Snape. His new policy was not to talk to either of them about the other seeing as Sirius kept insinuating Snape was dangerous and Snape would sneer whenever Sirius was mentioned.

He wouldn't be mentioning this bit of news then. Sirius was living within reach of Hogsmeade and wanted to see him! Harry couldn't help but let some worry filter into his excitement. Yeah, he loved seeing Sirius but it was hardly worth the risk. He'd never forgive himself if Sirius was caught because he thought Harry was in danger. Because he wasn't... Well, he wasn't in danger from Snape and the professor was trying his best to take care of the actual threat for him. He didn't need Sirius to take risks for him, but from what he knew of Sirius by now, the man was nothing short of determined and there was no persuading him.

Fortunately for Sirius he was going to Hogsmeade. He couldn't believe his luck the morning after their big fight Snape had agreed over breakfast that perhaps Harry could go to Hogsmeade if he continued to behave himself. His words being that he'd `undoubtedly made a difficult situation worse` and Harry `wasn't entirely at fault for his abysmal decisions.` Now knowing how it had worked in his favour he felt doubly lucky and grinned in relief.

Harry had appreciated that Snape had taken the punishment back. If nothing else it proved that Snape agreed he'd been wrong to treat Harry the way he had, but it wasn't lost on him that being a bit distant wasn't the worst thing Snape could have done. Knowing Snape there was no end of horrible things he could do if he truly wanted to make Harry unhappy, which made it easier for him to believe that Snape had honestly made a mistake. It was hard to see Snape as someone who didn't know what he was doing, but seeing him so apologetic and ill at ease made it hard for him to be too resentful.

"I finished that work for Snape with Hermione a few days ago. Do you want to double check yours against mine?" Harry offered, wishing Neville could see a bit of the nicer Snape and not the terrifying dungeon bat persona.

"No, I think he might know if I cheated."

"It's not cheating," Harry started but cut off, distracted by Malfoy and his faithful band of Slytherins strolling past flashing their 'Potter Stinks' badges and smirking. They'd taken to wondering loudly at his chances for survival in the tournament whenever he was within earshot. Far from making him nervous, he was getting more and more relieved that the subject of his family was getting further from their minds.

Harry's only reaction to their taunting was to roll his eyes and continue to persuade Neville to check his work. "Just have a look at mine and then you won't have to spend all morning worrying. It's not really cheating."

"Go on then," Neville replied, holding his hand out for Harry's work sheet. "You seem loads happier lately, even considering the Slytherins..." he said hesitatingly and then glanced down at Harry's folded up letter.

"Yeah, things are working out," he commented with a grin, his mind going to his evenings in Snape's quarters rather than his correspondence with Sirius and Remus.

Ron, sitting only two seats away, snorted.

---

Harry tried to remember to act like he was bothered by the Slytherins' taunts as the two houses lined up outside the dungeons. They could take loud bets on whether he'd survive the first task all they liked. He might not even be competing! That'd wipe the smug looks of their faces.

"Weasley! Fancy a bet? Best odds are on Potter dying ten minutes into the first task. If you win maybe you'd be rid of the stench of poverty–"

The dungeon door opened suddenly cutting Malfoy off mid-rant as Snape indicated for them to enter. Harry threw Malfoy a glare on the way to his own desk and then darted a look at Ron who looked to be in a foul temper. He couldn't find it in him to be that sympathetic after how Ron had been acting lately.

He set his mind on how to ask Snape to change his occlumency lesson to another evening. The last thing he needed was for Snape to find out he was planning on meeting up with Sirius and then ban him from going.

Harry looked down into his cauldron at the end if the lesson. Getting on his good side by doing his potion correctly was out. A shadow seemed to obscure the already too dark potion. Of course Snape had noticed that something had gone wrong.

"Do those hideous glasses have a purpose other than being perched on the end of your nose, Potter?"

"What? Sir?" Harry responded, thrown off by the comment. Snape didn't usually deviate from the arrogant, Boy-Who-Lived material.

"Can you read? Perhaps it isn't that travesty of a pair of spectacles, are you illiterate?"

"No."

"Ah. In that case you're merely as stupid as you look. Who can explain what Potter's done wrong?" he asked the class and Harry bit his lip to stop himself from replying.

"He didn't add the mashed slugs, sir," Malfoy replied smarmily from next to his shimmering violet potion. Harry had the urge to hex him into a shimmering violet puddle right where he stood.

"Five points to Slytherin. Detention, Potter. Perhaps an evening mashing slugs will teach you a lesson."

Surely there was a less drawn out way of getting him to stay behind after class.

"What's wrong with my glasses?" Harry exclaimed when the door finally shut behind the last student.

"It occurred to me that you've been wearing that pair for years. Go to madam Pomfrey and have your eyes checked and your glasses fixed properly."

"She's not an optician."

"All medi-witches and wizards have had training to deal with optical conditions."

"Fine, I'll go," Harry agreed just to keep Snape in a good mood. "You could just give me a detention. You don't have to rip into me so much."

"On the contrary, I do. And if that's the case then it may as well serve a purpose. I'm aware that it is the first Hogsmeade Saturday tomorrow–"

"You said I could go!" Harry said, maybe a little louder than he'd intended.

"Thank you, Harry. I would never have remembered if I hadn't held you back after class to have you deafen me with the knowledge."

Harry huffed. "You have a bit of a thing about threatening to stop me going."

"Mm. An occlumency session tonight would put your trip at risk if your scar is affected. I suggest postponing it until tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow? Yeah, that's great," Harry agreed, trying not to let his face split into a wide grin in case Snape suspected anything, but something must have shown because Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Don't wander off alone tomorrow. Stay with someone at all times, in a group, preferably."

"I won't be alone in Hogsmeade. It wouldn't be much fun if I was by myself, would it?"

"Any particular reason you forgot to add a key ingredient to your potion?" Snape asked, ignoring his cheek.

"I must have skipped a line of instructions. I wasn't the only one who messed up."

"Don't use other people's failures to explain your own. Pay attention to the instructions or you'll be getting real detentions until you get the potions right," Snape threatened, although with less venom than he used to.

"I don't make mistakes on purpose."

"They're stupid mistakes and I don't wish to see you repeat them."

"I'll pay more attention," Harry said giving in. "See you tomorrow then," he said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder.

"Behave yourself," Snape replied, shooing him out with a wave of his hand.

Harry caught up with Hermione and told her all about Sirius' plan to meet up the next day. If Ron would just come round then everything would start to fall into place. He'd get to see Sirius, Snape had stopped being distant, and he'd have his friends back. Everyone else had a family and their mates, so why couldn't he have that too?

---

It was with only a small amount of guilt but mainly excitement that Saturday morning Harry and Hermione climbed over a rocky pass to get to the cave that Sirius had indicated in his latest letter. He wasn't alone, he reasoned to himself, and as soon as they got to Sirius it would technically make it a group of them. Snape couldn't really be mad about it, seeing as being with Sirius was probably safer than a bunch of fourth year Gryffindors.

"Sirius!"

"Hello Harry," he replied wrapping him in a close one-armed hug.

"Hello Mr. Black," Hermione said with a hint of nervousness but Sirius returned her greeting warmly.

Sirius seemed more unkempt than usual, looking more like the man they'd met in the shrieking shack than the one he'd been spending time with at Remus' house.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course. I've been roughing it for a while but it's no problem and I'd rather be closer to the castle in case you need anything. This tournament then, Harry. Tell me exactly what's going on." Harry explained all that he knew so far, leaving out anything that Snape had mentioned to him. He was glad that Sirius, just like Snape, really wanted to protect him. He'd never had so many people actually interested in looking out for him! But in his letters Sirius' accusations tended towards the wild and he was constantly making sly digs at Snape and his loyalty.

"This Karkaroff, he's one to watch. He used to be a Death Eater, got out of prison by making a deal, I think. Then there's Snape, Death Eater too, not in Azkaban on a technicality." Harry thought it was low of Sirius to bring Snape up when he knew he couldn't defend him.

"Really?" Hermione half exclaimed as if she couldn't quite believe it. "Are you sure he used to be a Death Eater?"

"Still is as far as I'm concerned, just as much as Karkaroff."

"Why does Dumbledore have him around then?"

"Seems to think he's trustworthy," Sirius threw out casually as if he couldn't understand it himself.

"He must have a reason. You must be able to think of something?" Harry pushed, as if he was just as curious as Hermione.

"He was reported to have changed sides and started spying before you stopped You-Know-Who, but he was a Death Eater and who's to say he wasn't spying for his old master?"

"He was a real Death Eater before he was a spy?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Can you trust a man who joined You-Know-Who willingly?"

"Professor Dumbledore must have a reason and Professor Snape has saved Harry's life before..." Hermione mused aloud. Sirius didn't contradict her merely giving Harry a look that he didn't need to be a genius to interpret.

Harry couldn't think of much else and was distracted for the remainder of the conversation. He was sure Snape hadn't said anything about that when he'd explained about his spying and what Death Eaters were. He'd just assumed when everyone at the World Cup said he was a Death Eater that they hadn't known or trusted that he was a spy.

Hermione shot him a worried look on the way back into Hogsmeade and Harry tried to perk up a bit. This lying business wasn't easy, not at all.

---

S.S.

Severus slammed shut the last book he had borrowed from the headmaster on the subject of curse scars. It was as they'd suspected, there simply was nothing that was of relevance to Harry in their resources. Without any concrete information the best hope Severus had would be trial and error, and the only way to test out the potions would be during an attack. He'd wanted to avoid Harry suffering, but it was looking more and more inevitable as his research proved fruitless.

The floo flared green and Severus rose, jumping forward quickly to catch Harry as he tumbled with more force than usual out of the fireplace.

"Were you a real Death Eater before you started spying?" Harry blurted with no preamble as Severus righted him. He blinked quickly, trying to recover from the shock of the question.

"Yes," he replied bluntly, dropping Harry's arm and stepping away.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"When it became necessary."

Severus watched Harry's reactions carefully to get an indication of how he was taking the information. He'd been so preoccupied with the tournament and getting Harry somewhat settled that he'd not truly thought about when they would discuss his past.

"Don't you think I deserved to know when I agreed to live with you?"

"Deserved to know?" Severus' eyebrows shot up. He most definitely took exception to that. "I am not accountable to you, Potter, and I do not discuss my past with all and sundry."

It seemed that Harry took exception to that. "But I'm–" He frowned, struggling to finish his sentence.

"What?" Severus growled.

"I don't know, but you're my guardian," Harry said, crossing his arms, his face set in a stubborn scowl.

"You're my ward." He exhaled sharply. "If it had been a question of an adoption then you would have been informed. Our agreement is not so formal; you aren't legally bound to me. If the information bothers you to such an extent that you cannot live with me, then I will do my best to arrange for another guardian to take over next summer," he said stiffly.

"I don't want another guardian," Harry exclaimed. "Look, you know everything about me, stuff that I wouldn't have told anybody, least of all you! I'm glad you know now. It worked out, didn't it?" Harry rushed to explain. "But I don't know you. You used to be a Death Eater and you didn't tell me."

"Had you asked sooner, I would not have lied." When it seemed as if Harry had something to say to that Severus held up his hand for silence and Harry held his tongue. "I have answered for my crimes and I will atone for them. I have begun atoning for them," he corrected himself. "But it is at my discretion that I discuss my past, not at your demand."

"You know everything about me and you go on about my past all the time. You see it when we do occlumency. You should have told me," he insisted.

"You are fourteen, Harry. You were not even cognizant of what a Death Eater was until this summer."

He looked for an instant as though he didn't know how to respond to that but rallied after a moment. "Well I am now, aren't I? And I had a right to know the truth when you took me in."

Severus bared his teeth in anger, struggling to keep in control. A right? He thinks he had a right to know? "You want to know the truth," he spat. "I was a Death Eater, Potter. I joined the Dark Lord freely and willingly and I served him with pride. I have committed unspeakable crimes; I have done things you cannot imagine," Severus continued, towering over Harry, causing him to back up a step towards the fireplace.

"Don't, all right? Don't try to scare me; I'm not frightened of you."

"If I owe you the truth, if you deserve it, then you shall have it. I joined in the persecution of muggles, muggleborns and halfbloods–"

"You're a halfblood though, aren't you?" Harry interrupted as though he knew what Severus was doing and was trying to cut him off before he developed a real head of steam.

"Yes. Hatred doesn't often make sense. No one is claiming that the Dark Lord is the embodiment of wisdom."

"I know you don't want me to know or ask but I have to. Can't you understand that?"

Surprisingly, he could. Now that Harry knew, he would expect him to want to talk about it, to need to even. This wasn't how he would have brought the subject up but he had never wanted the conversation to go like this.

"You have questions?" he barked out.

"You just said it was at you discretion that you discuss your past."

"And I just invited you to ask your damned questions!" he yelled, losing the small amount of patience he had left.

"Do you still buy into the whole muggleborn rubbish?" Harry demanded boldly, his arms still folded, although as a defensive gesture more than anything else. Harry was all bravado, determined to have a conversation that Severus was doing all he could to make as difficult as possible.

Severus ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. He'd have much rather instigated this conversation at a time of his own choosing but he didn't want it to be a battle between the pair of them. He stalked past Harry to the kitchen and managed to calm his temper in the time it took to get Harry a butterbeer and himself a glass of water. Harry looked surprised when he returned, thrusted the butterbeer into his hand and then sat down and waited for Harry to do the same.

"I never truly did. There are more reasons than the obvious to join the Dark Lord's cause," he answered finally, a good deal calmer.

"Like what?"

"The Dark Lord promised many things, and for his loyal followers? Power, acceptance, a cause to fight for."

"You must have agreed with him though, to have joined up and gone along with it."

"I was a very angry young man, for many reasons, and he was very persuasive. So, yes, to some extent I thought he had the right idea. Outside of his influence, however, I wasn't overly concerned with bloodlines or blood purity."

"Then why did you join up at all? Surely if one of your parents was a muggle..." Severus gave him a pointed look and Harry thought for a moment, picking awkwardly at the label on his bottle. "You, um, had a hard time at home then."

"That was part of it, but not all. Nevertheless, I had had friends who were muggleborn. I knew he was wrong and yet I joined up. It was more complicated than merely buying into his pureblood ideology. There were many witches and wizards who agreed with him but didn't join up, you understand?"

"Sirius always says you really like the dark arts..."

"Oh, yes, there was a tremendous lure towards the dark arts, one that I was too weak to deny. This is an instance where your strength far outstripped my own. Never once have you been tempted, whereas I, I was utterly absorbed by them. I thought they could right all the wrongs I had suffered, that revenge would satisfy me."

"I didn't even know I was a wizard until I was eleven. I didn't know about dark magic to be interested in it."

"Nevertheless, even when you began at Hogwarts they did not interest you."

"Did you do the things that Death Eaters did?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"I've done and been witness to unspeakable things, things I have no intention of repeating to you or anyone save the headmaster. If you are to live with me then you must live with the knowledge that I have done unforgivable things. Perhaps I should have told you, but you are fourteen. You cannot comprehend how young that seems."

"I'm old enough for Voldemort–" Harry huffed at the glare Severus sent him. "For Him to try to kill me and to know what Death Eaters are and that you're going to be a spy and pretend to be one, but I'm not old enough to know that you used to be one? Not knowing doesn't make it go away," Harry said, frowning and displaying a maturity that Severus hadn't expected. "Why did you change sides?"

"He went too far. He wanted to do something I could not abide and so I threw myself at the mercy of the headmaster." Severus knew that his explanation wasn't exactly clear. Had he known this was coming he would have thought in advance and prepared what he would say to a child who couldn't understand and who he couldn't fully explain his past to. "How did you find out?" he asked after a moment, though he could probably guess.

"Sirius mentioned. He really doesn't trust you." He gave a shrug that seemed to indicate that he'd tried to talk him round and failed. "I think if I hadn't lived with you, I would have realised you were a real Death Eater before you were a spy, or I wouldn't have been surprised, because you know, you do seem a bit..."

"Evil?"

"Maybe. In class and stuff, not here. I think he thought I'd stop trusting you when I found out but... I still do."

H.P.

Snape raised his eyebrows as if he hadn't been expecting that but he didn't pry and Harry was glad. He didn't really want to explain out loud to him why he still trusted him, he just knew that he could. After all, Dumbledore did, Remus did, all the teachers here did and they must all know about his past. That and he had saved his life more than once.

It was more than that though, he just knew. His instincts told him he could trust Snape. Snape felt like safety and like home and while he certainly didn't like what was in Snape's past, he couldn't find it in him to not trust the man in front of him now.

"You can ask, you can always ask your questions," Snape said after a moment but he seemed to have reached his limit for the evening. "As for whether I will answer them, that is my choice."

They sat in silence for a while, Snape staring off into the distance and Harry finishing his drink awkwardly.

"I, um, went to Madam Pomfrey. She said she'd do my eyes after dinner on Wednesday."

"I won't schedule occlumency for that evening."

"Do you, er, need a headache potion?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I'm quite capable of getting myself what I need. I believe I am the Potions Master in this castle."

"All right."

Snape seemed to come to some sort of decision and he stood, sighing deeply.

"Come mangle some vegetables for me then. We'll do occlumency after dinner tonight."

---

Harry left the weighing of the wands ceremony more than a little put out. The more he got involved in the tournament process the more it felt like he had to compete. Dumbledore hadn't said anything to him about it either but at least he'd gotten him away from that awful Skeeter woman. She was a right cow; he hadn't been crying! 

He wished he hadn't been pulled out of potions to do the wand weighing thing because if anything it seemed to make Ron even angrier with him. He wanted to complain to Hermione about what Skeeter had been writing about him but he didn't want to say anything about doing an interview in front of Ron. He didn't want to make it all worse, especially if Hermione was right and Ron was jealous.

"So, what happened?" Hermione asked as he sat down to dinner.

"Just making sure our wands work and stuff," Harry mumbled, aware that Ron was only one or two seats away and doing everything possible to look as though he hadn't noticed Harry's arrival. Actually there was a chance he hadn't considering how enthusiastically he was digging into his mashed potatoes.

"What did I miss with Snape?"

"We just had to finish the assignment. Then he asked Ron to clear your used ingredients up and then took twenty points off him for swearing. Ron's a bit upset about it."

"He swore at Snape?" Harry said in total shock. Not even he went that far and Snape did a damn sight more to him then ask him to clean up someone else's stuff!

"He was muttering under his breath but as if Professor Snape would have missed it or an opportunity to take points."

"You're not having a meeting with Professor Dumbledore today then?" Hermione asked as Harry munched his way through a massive pile of roast potatoes.

"No, I'm getting my eyes done. Did you know Madam Pomfrey does eye tests?"

"No, but I don't know why I didn't think of it. I suppose witches and wizards wouldn't go to muggle opticians..."

"Come with me. I need to talk to you about something anyway." It'd be easier to tell Hermione his big news on the way down to the infirmary and most people were still at dinner. Snape had decided his detention from the previous week would be best served after class the day before and had spent the hour chatting to Harry about the first task.

Well, he'd actually spend a large portion of the hour telling Harry that he wouldn't be facing any damn dragon but they'd have to prepare a plan to deal with any circumstance and that included having to participate in the first task. Harry had been quite reassured at the time but now after having a day to think about the fact that he may well have to go up against a massive dragon... Well, he was feeling quite a bit less reassured.

"Dragons!" Hermione gasped. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I– er– overheard Karkaroff telling Krum," Harry lied quickly.

"But it's supposed to be a secret! It's against the rules to tell the champions what the tasks are."

"I don't think the headteachers are that fussed about all of that," Harry replied. At least that's what Snape had said. Something about inter-school rivalry.

"You really should be getting defence lessons from Professor Dumbledore..."

Harry nodded his agreement but kept silent. What could he say? He certainly couldn't just blurt out 'don't worry, Snape's working on it. If I have to compete Snape says he'll cheat as much as he pleases to make sure I come out of this unhurt'. Snape might be some super-spy or whatever but he's not and he knew sooner or later Hermione would pick apart his lies and he won't know what to do or say.

S.S.

"I have in fact had a break through of sorts," the headmaster announced when Snape arrived for their meeting. He knew better than to get his hopes up at that statement, but they really were running out of time before this damned tournament got under way and any breakthrough was a good sign. "Though I am afraid it may well not be to your liking. There is no way to tell whether Harry will be obliged to compete until the moment of the first task. He will either be compelled to make some effort or he will be free to back out should he choose."

"And how exactly do we determine whether he is or isn't affected?"

"If Harry can leave the arena once he's stepped into it then that will be enough to ascertain whether he will have to compete. And if he steps out then I will announce that without the contract he is forbidden from competing in the interest of his safety and fairness to the other schools." The reluctance on the headmaster's part was noted but he was grateful, at least, that something could be done.

"Thank you."

"You haven't reconsidered your position? Harry might be able to get out of this tournament but he will not be able to get out the prophecy."

"No, he will not," Severus agreed, recalling Harry's words from a few days before. 'Not knowing doesn't make it go away.' "Do you think perhaps it is time to tell him about it?"

"I hadn't planned on telling him at the moment."

"Why not? You're right, the Dark Lord will continue in his attempts and Harry may as well understand why he's being hunted down."

"He's quite young to hear the prophecy in full, don't you think?" If he'd been a man of lesser self control he'd have scoffed.

"He's not too young for this tournament, but he's too young to hear why the Dark Lord wants him killed?

"It's a lot of responsibility to heap on his shoulders."

"I'm not the one proposing he fights basilisks or dragons! I'll explain that he doesn't need to do anything until he's grown. I wanted to keep him in the dark earlier this summer but it makes no sense if the Dark Lord is going to continue to threaten him."

"I'm not certain there ever will be a right time to tell him, but I still feel that it is too soon."

"And if Harry asks why the Dark Lord wants him dead, what would you have me answer?"

"He's never asked outright but I suppose if he were to ask then the truth would be the most appropriate answer."

"The threat to him is present and you are correct, it isn't going to disappear. I would rather explain that to him now than further down the line. I'm asking for permission as an Order member to tell Harry the prophecy."

The headmaster looked surprised at the consideration but pleased all the same. "You have my permission. If I may make a suggestion? Permit him to tell his friends."

"I was under the impression that this prophecy was sensitive information."

"It doesn't do to isolate Harry from his friends. They are a great source of strength for him. You will not always be able to protect him."

"You cannot have missed that he and Weasley aren't speaking?" Severus all but sneered. Weasley would find himself in a great many more detentions and losing more than a few points if that attitude of his didn't change.

"I'm not suggesting you force him to tell Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, merely that you permit him if he wishes to. They are loyal."

"Because they're Gryffindors?"

"Because they've stood alongside him and I'm sure they will continue to do so."

H.P.

"Do you still have that massive encyclopaedia of plant properties? I actually want it to look something up this time," Harry asked the moment Snape appeared through the floo. He'd scanned Snape's bookshelves but he reckoned Snape might have taken it away after Harry had started using it as a makeshift desk when he worked on the couch.

"In your room. It's too basic to be of any use to me, you may as well keep it."

"Oh. Thanks, but you don't have to–" Snape cut him off with a wave off his hand.

"Sit, I have something important to discuss with you."

Harry did as he was told, eyeing Snape warily. He seemed to be more serious than usual, which was saying something.

"Is this about the tournament? I have to compete, don't I?"

"Let me speak, Harry," he chastised pointedly. "The headmaster cannot know for sure if you are bound to compete until the first task has begun."

"So I have to do it," Harry figured aloud.

"I don't believe you are obliged to compete but there is a chance that you may have to make an attempt. If that is the case then you follow my instructions regarding the dragon and we will renew our attempts to have you taken out after the first task. Either way, your life will not be in any danger. I will be in those stands, as will the headmaster. I still believe you won't have to compete but we need to be prepared for the eventuality that you will have to face a dragon."

"What does Dumbledore think?"

"Professor Dumbledore is undecided. Which comes to what I need to discuss with you."

"We're not talking about the tournament?" Harry asked.

Snape took a breath as if he was about to start a lengthy lecture and was ordering his thoughts. "I don't need to tell you that the Dark Lord, even in his current state, has had an enormous impact on your life and even now he is a threat to you in particular."

"Yeah, I know he wants me dead. Did you find out that it's definitely Voldemort behind this whole triwizard thing?"

"I'll take points every time I hear that name; I've told you enough times. Do. Not. Say. It. It is the Dark Lord, we hardly need more evidence," Severus said, with not a little scorn. "I'm not telling you this because there is any expectation on you to do anything, is that clear?" Harry nodded hurriedly when it was obvious that Snape was actually waiting for a response.

"If I manage to stop you competing, the Dark Lord will not stop targeting you. There is more to this than a desire for revenge or to tie up loose ends." He paused for a moment and regarded Harry carefully before continuing. "There is a prophecy regarding yourself and the Dark Lord. He doesn't know the prophecy in it's entirety but what he does know is enough for him to single you out and try to kill you."

"A prophecy?" Harry repeated, trying to get his head around this new development. "So, when I was a baby…"

"He tried to kill you because of the prophecy."

"My parents are dead because of a prophecy," Harry reasoned, somewhat numbly. "What is it? What does it say?"

Harry stayed silent even after Snape had finished recounting the prophecy...'neither can live while the other survives...' He had no family, his parents were murdered and he grew up with the Dursleys instead, all because of a prophecy.

"In the short term this changes nothing. He will not get to you," Snape reassured him in the silence.

"How long have you known about it?"

"It is by no means new knowledge to me." Harry thought he could have spoken less evasively but he had more important things to worry about.

"And no one was going to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now," Snape replied quite calmly.

"It's my life! I think I deserve to know that I'm the one who's supposed to off Volde– Him or that I'm pretty much destined to be killed by him."

"You are not destined to be killed. You have met him and survived on two occasions already. No one expects you to do anything. I am telling you because he will not stop; I can pull you out of this tournament but he will not stop trying to kill you."

"I think I knew in a way that he was always going to want to kill me. He was hardly going to give up after all the trouble I caused him already. Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"It was not for me to tell you. Until recently I was charged with keeping you alive, nothing more. I am not entirely certain it was wise to tell you now."

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"As you indicated 'not knowing will not make it go away'. I realised that I cannot keep your childhood free from the Dark Lord. I cannot protect you by hiding you from the truth and I would rather you took the danger seriously than have you throw yourself into it as you have been inclined to do in the past. In light of the prophecy, the headmaster would rather you compete in the tournament. It is rather a bone of contention between us."

"He wants me to go up against him now?" Harry asked, wide eyed and appalled.

"Don't be stupid; of course not. He doesn't believe you'll come to harm at all but with the tournament we know where the Dark Lord's focus is."

"So, Professor Dumbledore wants me to compete because we know that's how He plans on getting to me? Does he think He just hopes I'll die during one of the tasks?"

"I think his reasoning is that it is good training, but, yes, if you stay in the tournament we know what the threat is. The headmaster believes that if he pulls you out then we no longer know what the Dark Lord plans and we may force him to act out of desperation."

"So, stay in a trap or worry that if I don't compete he'll think of something else?"

"The headmaster is right to point out that we may force a desperate move from the Dark Lord and he truly does not believe that anything could go seriously wrong during the tournament."

"He must think he can get me or he wouldn't bother, would he?"

"That is what I believe. I still intend to have you taken out of the tournament."

"What am I going to do about the prophecy?" Harry asked. It was all too much to take in. He had the tournament and then the prophecy and–

"Nothing. You will live with me and I will train you and keep you safe until you are a competent adult wizard and prepared to face the Dark Lord. A confrontation is inevitable, with or without the prophecy, I won't deny that, but I will do everything in my power to stop you meeting him until you are ready."

---

S.S.

Perhaps he had made an error telling Harry now, Severus considered, watching him with concern. He looked the very picture of overwhelmed.

"I don't need to impress upon you the importance of keeping this prophecy a secret?" Snape continued and Harry nodded. "Despite that, the headmaster was rather insistent that you be able to tell Granger and Weasley." Harry looked relieved at that and his expression lightened minutely before darkening once more.

"I don't think Ron wants to know to be honest," Harry said, kicking his heels into the sofa in agitation. "So, occlumency then…"

"Later. It's a Saturday tomorrow; you can lie in. I want you to settle your mind again before I attack it. Show me the herbology work you're doing."

Harry didn't move, staring into space as if trying to reorganise his brain to fit in this new piece of information. "Is this why you've taken me in, because I'm important? Not in general, I mean important for killing Voldemort," Harry asked suddenly as Severus summoned the encyclopaedia that Harry had asked for.

"I don't know how you managed to come to that conclusion but let me tell you something. Look at me. That is the single most stupid and illogical thing you have ever said, you imbecile." It occurred to Severus a little belatedly that he ought to have put that a little more tactfully. "Your importance, as you deem it, is rather more of an inconvenience than a reason to become your guardian." That hadn't come out right either. He was more than likely supposed to be saying something positive and reassuring. "I don't care about you because you've been prophesied to kill the Dark Lord." That would have to do.

"Or be killed by him," Harry corrected. "But thanks, I think."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for using that name and for such an idiotic question."

Harry gave a half hearted glare at that but got up to get his work. "If you want to help me with my work can we do transfiguration instead? Professor McGonagall just set us a transfiguration essay and I don't get what she was saying about transforming organic properties…" Harry asked, rooting through his bag for his notes.

---

The occlumency session had not gone well and Severus had called a halt to it sooner than he would have liked. Harry couldn't concentrate, which should have been expected but was, of course, a worry. He needed to be proficient enough at occlumency to be able to hold his shields up even when under pressure or in shock. Holding up against the Dark Lord was going to take more skill than he was currently exhibiting and Severus was finding it hard not to express his impatience at Harry's progress.

He'd left Harry for a moment 'reading' his textbook. He knew that Harry needed time to think. The prophecy was a lot to come to terms with and he had already been affected by it; he'd lost his family, been forced to live with abusive relatives, he was being threatened by the Dark Lord and now was left with the knowledge that his life would continue in that vein until he killed the Dark Lord himself.

Perhaps it was too much to tell him now, but he would have asked eventually. If he got pulled out of the tournament he would have a small reprieve before the Dark Lord tried something else... Ignorance may well be bliss but ignorance didn't get Harry trained to defend himself, and ignorance wouldn't save his life when the time came.

"Blast," Severus cursed as he heard a piercing shriek from the living room. It would be today of all days! The sight that met him was in stark contrast to that of Harry pretending to read his occlumency textbook as he had been not a few moments before. Now, Harry was writhing in agony, close to tumbling off the couch, hands covering his face. Severus caught him before he could fall and summoned a vial of pain reliever, stronger than usual, and with a few enhancements particular to curse scars but likely to be ineffective.

"Open your mouth. Harry, open–" Harry did so but only to let out another pain filled scream. Not unconscious but unresponsive, he noted. Severus gritted his teeth and upended the vial into the child's mouth, hoping that Harry would be aware enough to swallow the contents.

"Accio salve! No, no," he muttered, grabbing Harry's hands and holding them away from his scar as blood began dripping in great globs from where Harry had dug his nails into his flesh. Trapping Harry's hands seemed to panic him more in whatever torment he was suffering that he couldn't wake from and he struggled hard in Severus's grip.

He wasted no time in opening the salve, transferring Harry's hands to just one of his as he scooped out a dollop of the numbing salve. Harry had become even less cooperative, barrelling straight into his chest in his unconscious search for something else to scrape the scar from his head. "No, back–"

He tried unsuccessfully to pry Harry from him while keeping a grip on his hands and in the end Severus did the only thing he could. He clamped Harry's arms to his sides with one of his own round his back, one hand dangling useless and numb from the salve he couldn't get on Harry's scar, the other hand holding Harry's head in place as he continued to scream himself hoarse.

It wasn't long before the screams died away, replaced by groans of pain and sharp gulps of air. Unconscious or not he couldn't leave him to his pain, nor could he solve it, so he kept Harry pinned tightly to his chest and stopped him from injuring himself further. Damned potion did nothing, yet again.

H.P.

The presence in his mind lifted and he blinked as the image in his head cleared. He was aware of a fading pain in his scar and an awful noise, which he soon realised were his own moans. He gritted his teeth to try and get himself under control but still he couldn't stop. More disconcerting was the fact that he was trapped in a painfully tight hold that was in complete contrast to the sensation of being rocked slowly back and forth.

He wriggled his left arm weakly and it was clamped tighter to his side, but what he suddenly realised was a hand holding his head began moving, carding his fingers through his hair in a deliberate soothing movement as the slow rocking continued. His eyes started burning again as awareness dawned fully and he relaxed into Snape's hold, not wanting to say anything to disturb this even if Snape was holding him too tightly for it to be comfortable.

"You're hurting me a bit," Harry eventually said when he'd definitely lost all sensation in one of his arms. Snape clearly hadn't realised he'd woken up as he was released abruptly, so much so that he almost tipped forward off the couch. He wiped quickly at his face with his sleeve even though Snape would probably have already noticed if he'd been crying. He frowned when he saw it covered in red streaks of blood. His hand went to his scar, surprised that it would bleed no matter how much pain he was in, but Snape grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away.

"Don't touch your scar," he growled. "What happened exactly? You weren't aware of what was going on here but you didn't seem unconscious." Snape gestured for Harry to sit back on the sofa and summoned a jar of salve which he held awkwardly in his right hand.

"Uh.." Harry tried to start, his voice coming out as a harsh croak. Snape conjured a glass, filled it with water and handed it to him. He sipped it slowly, thinking of how to start as Snape waved his wand quickly over his face, leaving him feeling a good deal cleaner, then set to work dabbing the salve on his scar.

"Voldemort was just there. I could see him in that creepy house but he was in my head too. At first I couldn't feel anything from him, you know like when he's really happy or angry?" He waited for Snape to nod. "But then it was like he was ecstatic. He said things to me... my head wasn't safe or my mind wasn't my own any more..." He shook his head as if to refresh his memory and Snape tutted and gently pulled his head back so he could carry on with the salve. "He said he could make it hurt so much I'd go to him begging for death. He's still not human but he's that something, like when I had that vision in the summer."

Snape clumsily cleaned the salve from his hands before crouching in front of Harry to meet his eyes. "He doesn't know that you are being tutored in occlumency, nor does he know that I am protecting you. We have far more information on our side. I assume he was thrilled to have been able to break into your mind after all this time and was trying to frighten you."

"Yeah, well I suppose we already knew he was going to try to kill me so it's no big deal then," Harry said, trying to shrug normally but instead ending up giving a jerky shoulder twitch.

"Don't be ridiculous. When you have mastered occlumency this will not happen again and you are making progress."

"Not good progress," Harry muttered, shutting his eyes for a moment.

"Adult wizards cannot pick up this skill with any amount of ease. I have never said that this process will be quick. You can throw off the imperius curse; if you apply yourself you should be able to occlude successfully." Harry didn't reply. It was much easier to just lie back and rest his eyes. "Don't go to sleep. Sit up, Harry."

"You made my head numb and I'm tired." And his eyes stung.

"You cannot sleep now; you need to be occluding. Look at me and open your eyes. If you go to sleep now your mind will be ridiculously easy to break into. Do you imagine that the Dark Lord doesn't have unlimited time to torture you if he so wishes?" Snape scathed.

"I'm trying to bloody occlude. It's easier with my eyes shut," Harry yelled back at Snape, then regretted it when his head began to pound and his stupid eyes began to water. "Damn," he muttered, swiping angrily at his cheeks and looking away.

He therefore missed Snape swiftly move to stand and reach down, pulling Harry roughly to his feet with one hand and then gripping him in a slightly less crushing hug than the one he'd woken up in. "The Dark Lord will not get you, not in this tournament and not through your scar," he said gruffly.

Harry's initial embarrassment wore off in the shock of Snape actually initiating a hug but then inexplicably his eyes began to water even more. He tried to breathe normally in case Snape thought he was about to start bawling or something. "Relax, you stupid boy," Snape muttered above him, one of his hands beginning to rub his back gently and Harry let himself collapse against Snape. Snape was actually quite good at this, Harry decided, even if he was probably too old to need to be held.

Harry noted the lifeless hand hanging from the arm that Snape had around his shoulders. "What's wrong with your hand?" he asked quietly, wondering if Snape was going to jump away again, now that he'd spoken.

"It's numb. Someone wouldn't let me put salve on his scar earlier," he replied, holding on for a second longer and then leading Harry to sit back down on the couch.

"Make sure you're occluding and then lie to me," Snape instructed, crouching down once again to keep eye contact.

"Lie... Malfoy's my best friend, Moaning Myrtle's a right laugh, I like potions."

"You need to keep that level up this evening until you go to bed," Snape declared, wincing slightly as he stood up once more. He looked thoughtful for a moment, crossing his arms and regarding Harry as if he was a complex potions problem. "You don't particularly care for chess," he stated.

Harry shook his head, too exhausted to care that Snape was asking odd questions. "Do not go to sleep," Snape repeated before disappearing into his own room. Harry blinked slowly. He wasn't sure if Snape had been gone for five minutes or for just a few seconds but he was sat beside him now opening a small box.

"What's that?"

"A muggle game." He showed Harry the contents of the box, small colourful pieces rattling loose. "You don't recognise it?"

Harry shook his head and Snape pulled a little board full of holes out and a handful of coloured pegs. "This is a code breaking game. One person chooses the sequence of coloured pegs and the other tries to guess it." He then proceeded to explain how you use the other little pegs to show the other person how many pegs they guessed correctly.

"Why do have a muggle game?" 

"Another gift from the headmaster. They aren't all as bad as your pyjama top," Snape explained, referring to the bright yellow top he'd given Harry a few weeks previous.

"Yeah, I can see you liking something like this," Harry nodded, pulling his legs up onto the sofa and scooting closer to Snape and the little game so that he could see it better.

"Mm. Well, we can play it once you've put your pyjamas on."

"I thought you didn't want me to fall asleep."

"And yet somehow I know that you're going to do it anyway. Go, now, you'll be easier to put to bed later if you're already ready for bed."

"I'm fourteen. I don't need to be put to bed!" Harry replied, indignant.

"Bearing in mind how often you remind me I'm not likely to forget how old you are and it'll hardly be the first time I've put you to bed. Now, Harry."

Harry got up and padded tiredly over to his room with a grumble of annoyance, returning in the same set of pyjamas he'd been given on his first night back in Snape's quarters.

"Remind me to order you another set of pyjamas. I'd forgotten you didn't have any of your own here."

"I'll just wear these," Harry replied easily, pulling the little board towards him. "Don't look then," he said, picking out four little coloured pegs.

"I didn't think you'd want to wear second hand considering your wardrobe growing up."

"These are comfy. It's a bit cold though, maybe a dressing gown would be good," he said, pulling his arms into his t-shirt to keep warm.

"A dressing gown it is. This one, Mr. Potter, is mine, but you can have it for tonight." He summoned a heavy grey robe from his own room and let it drop on Harry's head. "Don't get too comfy in it," he said as Harry bundled himself up and he made his first guess on the board.