“You’ll earn your keep while you live under my roof, boy!” growled Uncle Vernon, pinning Harry against the wall by his throat. “Do you know what that means?” He backhanded Harry across the face. “Answer me, boy!”

“N-no, sir,” Harry choked out. Uncle Vernon gave him a vicious grin, then knocked him to the floor.

“You’ll soon find out.” He kicked Harry sharply in his side as he left.

Harry was huddled against the shed behind the strip of townhouses, fists clenched, holding his breath. If those boys found him again…

A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder.

Harry gasped, and dug his knee hard into the chest of his attacker. He clawed at the hand on his shoulder, rolling away and crashing to the floor. He searched his pockets for his dagger, but he came up empty.

Where is it? Under my pillow- What pill- Oh.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and straightened up. He wasn’t on the streets, he was in his bedroom at Snape’s, who was standing beside Harry’s bed, looking somewhat disheveled.

Oh, god, I just attacked him! Now he’ll for sure let me have it, and he’d have a right to. You have this one coming, so take it like a man.

Harry waited, but Snape did not come any closer.

“Mr. Potter-”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry interrupted, gasping slightly. “I didn’t- I thought-”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Potter. I do not hold you responsible for your actions just now, as you were quite unaware of your surroundings,” Snape said, voice lacking venom entirely.

He’s not angry? Wait, what is he doing here, anyway? Did I scream or something?

“D-did I wake you, sir?” Harry asked hoarsely.

“No, Mr. Potter. I was, incidentally, passing your bedroom, en route to my own, and I detected movement. Another nightmare, I presume?”

Why does he keep asking about this? Maybe if I answer he’ll stay not angry. But I don’t want to.

Harry settled for a jerk of his shoulder.

“A vocal response, if you please, Mr. Potter.”

I should really do what he says right now. He has every right to be furious.

“I… prefer not to discuss it, sir.”

“Very well, Mr. Potter.” Snape backed away from the bed, and Harry climbed back into it, watching Snape warily.

Why is he here? Why did he come in if I didn’t scream?

Snape was just watching him carefully, and it was making Harry feel anxious and uncomfortable. He was almost thankful when Snape spoke.

“Mr. Potter, there do exist magical means of managing… disturbances of sleep.”

Harry looked up. “I thought that the dreamless sleep potion can be toxic if taken frequently,” he said, remembering what he had learned from Snape’s potions book.

Snape looked faintly approving, which Harry thought was immensely strange.

“While you are correct, I was not referring to a potion, despite that being my area of expertise.”

What, then? Some sort of relaxant? That would probably be considered a potion, now that I think on it. Would potions be classified as drugs? Or drugs as potions? Do wizards even know what drugs are…

“I was rather speaking of a branch of mind magic, known as Occlumency,” said Snape, his voice jerking Harry out of his thoughts.

Occlumency? I haven’t found any books on that.

Once again, Snape seemed to read his thoughts.

“You would not have found any volumes on the topic, as I own very few, none of which are stored in the library. Furthermore, mind magic of any sort is not a skill that can be learned from books, rather, it must be practiced.”

Mind magic?

“Occlumency is, primarily, the art of guarding one’s mind against intrusion.”

Intrusion? Can wizards break into minds? Can he? What if he’s read mine?

“Can wizards-” Harry broke off.

“Yes,” Snape responded shrewdly. “Some wizards do possess the capability to access the minds of others, though it is a rare ability, known as Legilimency.”

Snape paused for a moment.

“I am proficient in both arts.”

Oh no, he can.

Snape smirked slightly.

“I assure you, Mr. Potter, I have not attempted to access your mind; you would certainly know if I had.”

Harry let out a breath, but he still needed to know…

“How is Legilimency performed, sir?” Harry asked, half-expecting Snape to refuse to answer.

“To perform Legilimency, one must maintain eye contact with the individual on whom intends to perform it,” said Snape, surprisingly forthright. “Even then, one can only detect surface thoughts and emotions. For instance, I, when maintaining eye contact with another, am always aware if I am being lied to, unless, of course, the individual is a competent Occlumens himself.”

He’s like a human lie detector. Better make sure not to look at him the next time I lie.

“Can it go further, sir?”

Snape looked as though he were deliberating an answer.

“Should one wish to access deeper emotions or memories, a wand is required.”

Hmm, I wonder if Voldemort can do it. Maybe Dumbledore can, too. That can’t be good.

“How can Occlumency diminish nightmares?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed. “Do people guard their minds against themselves?”

“Interesting observation, Mr. Potter, but no. The beginnings of Occlumency help decrease sleep disturbances by proxy.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“The first step towards guarding one’s mind is to clear it, which certainly assists in preventing nightmares.”

Interesting. Sounds a bit like meditation. I cannot imagine Snape meditating, that’s just strange.

“If you would like, I would be willing to assist you in clearing your mind.”

Harry looked sharply at Snape. Whatever Snape's motives were, this offer, if it worked, was too beneficial to turn down. If the nightmares stopped, he would stop being weak and he would never have to remember any of it. But would Snape somehow gain easier access into his mind if he helped him?

“How would you teach me, sir?” Harry asked inquiringly.

Snape looked as though he understood Harry’s hesitation.

He pulled out his wand and set it on the dresser behind him before Harry had a chance to tense up.

“I will simply provide you with verbal instructions in the methods of clearing your mind, nothing more.”

Harry considered it. What could it hurt?

“Yes, sir. I would… appreciate that.”

Snape nodded once, looking, again, oddly approving.

“The first step in clearing your mind, which has proven effective for most individuals, is to envision a place in which you feel safe and calm. It may be a place you have actually been, or simply an imaginative figment. Allow the memory to conquest the mind entirely, emptying it of all other thoughts.”

Snape was standing a good few feet away from Harry’s bed, so he didn’t feel too threatened and was able to think.

A safe place? Nowhere on the streets, definitely not. Nothing at the Dursleys. A library?

At first, Harry thought it might work, but he found that he concentrated on the knowledge he had gained there instead of the comfort it brought him. That just brought him back to his discovery about Dumbledore, and the subsequent anger.

Guess it won’t be the library…

Suddenly, it came to Harry; he could’ve hit himself for not thinking of it sooner. A memory, growing gradually clearer, blossomed in his mind. A small, warm space, far away, with a small, yet comforting presence beside him…

***

Harry was eight, and he was pulling weeds in the garden in front of number four, Privet Drive. The sun beat down uncomfortably on the back of his neck, and the sound of children enjoying their free Saturday afternoon echoed behind him.

It hadn’t been long since It had happened. Harry re-experienced It nearly every night in his dreams, and even now, he was half-expecting It to happened again. He jumped at every sound, hating the fact that his chore had him facing away from the street. How would he know if someone came up behind him?

Harry yanked out another weed, jerking as the breeze caused some fallen leaves to rustle. Every sound seemed amplified, and much more sinister than usual. He began trembling, and a handful of weeds fell from his slackened grip.

That did it.

Glancing around quickly Harry got up and ran as fast as he could from the house. He knew he’d catch hell for this later, but right now, that didn’t matter. He just needed to get away.

He alternated between running and jogging until he’d run a good few miles from the neighborhood. He gradually slowed his pace, glancing around carefully. This area did not look familiar; the gutters were piled with litter, the houses were run-down, and the lawns unkempt, a far cry from the orderliness and precision of Privet Drive. He was strolling now, a good deal calmer, kicking small pebbles as he walked.

“Hey, you!” a voice called out suddenly.

Harry jumped, quickly swiveling around toward the source of the noise. He relaxed slightly when he saw that it was only a kid, a young girl, who was jogging lightly toward him. She drew closer, and Harry watched her warily. Harry guessed that she was around his age, and, although she was a bit taller and more filled out than he, she was still pretty small and scrawny, so Harry didn’t judge her to be much of a threat.

“You looking for something?” the girl asked brusquely, brushing straggly, light brown hair out of her face. Her clothes were pretty unkempt, much like Harry’s, and when she spoke, Harry could see that she was missing a front tooth.

“Who says I’m looking for anything?” Harry said defensively.

The girl looked more closely at him.

“Sometimes, I look for things too,” she said softly. “I like to find places where no one will find me. A place where I’m in charge.”

Harry something in her voice made Harry look at her more closely, meeting her eyes. They were large, and blue-gray, and they had a haunted quality that reminded Harry of himself. She gazed back at Harry unflinchingly.

Then, Harry realized, she knew. She was like him, she felt like he did. She knew how it felt to be worthless and dirty and unlovable. And Harry could tell that she saw that in him, too.

She held out a small hand.

“I’m Jade,” she said simply.

Harry slowly grasped her hand.

“Harry,” he whispered.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I know a place,” she said in a low voice. Harry nodded. Without releasing his hand, she ran down the street, pulling Harry along.

After a while, they reached a forest-like area. She led him through the trees, deeper and deeper, then stopped. She pointed. Harry looked up and saw what appeared to be a treehouse, though it looked as though it had been built a hundred years ago. She scampered up the tree, Harry at her heels, and they crawled inside.

Harry looked around warily. The space was small, and the wood old, but it was thick and sturdy, and the little makeshift room felt warm. Jade sat with her back against the wall, and Harry mimicked her movement. His breathing inexplicably slowed; he forgot the fear and tension of the day, and the memories of It seemed less significant. Neither Jade nor Harry spoke, but Jade’s presence felt calming. Harry knew she understood, and, with her, inside this small, wooden sanctuary, he didn’t have to hide.

Harry had come back to the treehouse with Jade quite a few times over the next few months. They’d never spoken much, but Harry knew she had it bad where she lived, as she knew of him. Jade was the first person he’d ever met that smiled at him, that didn’t look at him as though he was a dead bug. She accepted him, and she seemed to need Harry just as much as he needed her.

Having Jade helped Harry coped with It, even though It had happened a few more times. Harry was pretty sure It had happened to Jade even more often. They never spoke of It; just being near each other in the small, wooden treehouse was enough.

One day, when Harry was already nine, he couldn’t find Jade. He’d eventually found out that she’d been sent to live with her mum, though he wasn’t sure where. Harry was happy for her that she’d gotten out of her hell-hole, he really was, but now, he was alone again. The loss of Jade’s company had been the last straw that had pushed him to finally run from the Dursleys.

***

Harry let the memory of sitting with Jade in the tree house wash over him as he leaned back into his pillows. He felt little fear or suspicion, despite Snape’s presence in the room. Harry vaguely heard him murmuring instructions, to let the memory engulf him, to think of nothing else.

It was significantly easier to do than Harry had expected

“Thank you, sir,” he murmured drowsily.

He didn’t fall asleep until Snape had left the room, though.

Harry opened his eyes, slowly for once. While he had dreamed last night, he could only recall vaguely unpleasant scenes, as opposed to terrifying.

I guess that Occlumency stuff worked. I can’t figure that guy out…

Harry wasn’t sure what to think. Snape had really done him a good turn, here, conspiracy or no. Harry dressed absentmindedly, reflecting on Snape’s behavior. Was he really just trying to be helpful? Did he actually… care?

No. He can’t care. Even if he does it won’t last. It’s better to never have something than to have it and lose it.

But was it, though? While it had hurt immensely when Jade had left, it was still a comfort to know that someone had once been there for him. At any rate, the memory of her and the treehouse had helped with his nightmares.

She didn’t mean to leave me. Did my parents mean to leave me?

Harry brushed off those thoughts like an irksome fly. He was treading in dangerous waters, thinking that way. Better not to feel. He hadn’t thought about Jade in ages, it had been easier to just push the memories away. Thinking about her last night had brought it all back.

 You’re never going to see her again, so quit harping on it.

A bit later, Harry entered the kitchen and sat in his usual place. Snape looked up when he entered.

“I trust you slept well, Mr. Potter?” he inquired.

“Yes, sir. I-”

He really did help me out. Why did he do it? Why bother?

Snape raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Thank you, for last night,” Harry said quietly, feeling awkward. Snape tilted his head slightly.

“It was no trouble, Mr. Potter. I am pleased to hear that it was of some use to you.”

Why did he do it? Why?

“Why, sir?”

Did I really just ask that?

“Why am I pleased to hear that the Occlumency was of use, or why did I teach it to you?” Snape asked, the very picture of perplexed, though Harry was pretty sure Snape knew what he meant, he just wanted Harry, for whatever reason, to vocalize his question.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek.

“Why did you help me?” he whispered, surprised that he had spoken.

Snape was looking at him calculatingly. Harry avoided his eyes. He wasn’t going to take any chances, now that he knew Snape was an Occlumens.

“As you are, presently, a child under my care, it is my duty to ensure your well-being.” Snape paused. “I had been neglecting that thus far, an oversight on my part.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“But… it’s not as though I was hurt or anything, sir,” Harry responded cautiously.

Snape gave him a sharp look.

“One’s well-being encompasses more than just physical health.”

Wait… What? What’s that meant to mean?

“Is that truly such a novel concept?” Snape asked, watching Harry carefully.

Harry shrugged. How was he supposed to know what the duties of adults were?

“Did your relative care nothing for you, Mr. Potter?”

No, we are not going there.

Harry shrugged again.

“Again, I would appreciate a vocal response, Mr. Potter,” Snape said sharply.

Why does it matter?

Snape was still waiting for his answer.

“Does it really matter, sir? They’re no longer alive.” Harry said, in a deliberately dispassionate tone.

Snape was watching him again.

“It very well might, Mr. Potter.”

Huh? Well, that wasn’t a question, so I don’t need to say anything.

Snape said nothing more, though he watched Harry intermittently throughout the meal. By the time he was done, Harry was more than ready to leave. He hastened to the library, all but burying himself in books in attempt to distract himself from all the irritating thoughts.

Later, on his way to the kitchen for lunch, Harry cast about for something to say to Snape, so he could avoid a repeat of that morning’s conversation.

When he sat down, Snape was studying him again, so he opened his mouth, than closed it again.

Just ask the question. If he didn’t get mad when you kicked him last night, he won’t get mad from a question.

“Sir, can I ask a question?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Certainly you may, Mr. Potter,” said Snape, one eyebrow raised.

“Does magic follow the laws of physics, sir?”

Does he even know what physics are?

Snape’s forehead creased slightly.

“Interesting question. While most wizard opt to remain ignorant of the natural sciences,” he said with a slight sneer, “according to my observations, it does. Do you have anything in particular in mind?”

“The Hover Charm, sir. How can an object defy gravity?”

“Well, Mr. Potter, can you think of any muggle objects that appear to defy gravity in a similar fashion?”

Harry thought for a moment. Airplanes? No, they didn’t just hover, they relied on a forward force as well as lift, and they were also designed to use air pressure to their advantage. The Hover Charm allowed an object of any shape to float, without necessarily moving. Then it came to him.

“Balloons, sir?”

Snape nodded at Harry, an odd expression on his face.

“Indeed, Mr. Potter. And are you aware of what allows balloons to hover in the air?”

Harry nodded. “The warm air in the balloon is less dense than the surrounding cooler air.”

Snape nodded again, looking a bit… impressed?

“Correct. The Hover Charm alters the state of the molecules of the object at which it is directed, causing them to behave in much the same way.”

“It heats them up, sir?”

“In a sense, though the object does not physically heat up. Instead, the molecules of both the object and the surrounding atmosphere are manipulated to behave as though the object has been heated to the point where its density is less than that of room-temperature air.”

Wow, interesting. So magic doesn’t defy science, it just sort of manipulates it.

“Why don’t wizards learn about this?”

Snape looked slightly scornful.

“Unfortunately, most wizards do not bother themselves to expand their knowledge in this area, as they tend to view it as quite unnecessary.”

I guess they would, because everything comes so easily, so advances in science are not that important. But, if they knew more…

“If wizards were knowledgeable of the sciences, wouldn’t they be able to create more spells?”

Snape had an unreadable expression on his face.

“They would. However, it is the best interest of both wizards and muggles alike that they remain largely ignorant. Can you think why?”

Harry thought for a moment. Then it hit him.

“They’d have too much power, sir?”

Snape inclined his head.

“Precisely, Mr. Potter. You may have heard of the saying, ‘power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.’”

And the ministry of magic is corrupt as it is…

“Yes, sir.”

“Have I provided you with a sufficient response, Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded. Snape had actually given him a really good answer.

“Thank you, sir.”

They both finished their meal in silence.