"Um...hello, Professor," Harry muttered. Professor Snape had just walked in, and Harry was standing nervously, having waited for him, parchment and quill in hand.

"Is that the essay I assigned?" Professor Snape asked, his eyes wandering over the back of the paper.

"Yes, sir," Harry responded. "I mean, no, sir. I mean, I wasn't able to do it, sir, because I don't know what to do, and I'm sorry," he said, running his words together. "Sir," he added, just to be safe. Generally the more "sir"s he added to the sentence, the safer he felt about whatever he was trying to say. It would show that he really did mean to be respectful, even if he might be failing miserably.

"That's alright, Harry," Professor Snape said, drawing in a long breath. Harry braced himself for anything, because anyone sucking in their breath was a bad sign for him. Professor Snape's voice was quite calm and even though, and he was giving no sign of being impatient in any other way. "Just come over to my desk, and we'll work on it."

He turned his back on Harry, and sat down at his desk, transfiguring a nearby pillow into a chair for Harry. Harry sat down, placing his parchment and quill on the desk, watching the Professor's hands carefully.

"I'm very glad that you came to be about it, if you're having difficulty," Professor Snape said, thankfully holding his hands in a place where Harry could readily see them. "It's perfectly alright to not be able to do it yet. I have to bleed all over most of the first years' essays."

"Bleed, sir?" Harry squeaked. Oh, gosh, he didn't want to make him bleed! Harry began to quiver in anticipation.

"Not literal," Professor Snape drawled slightly. "Red ink. Corrections. All over the page, with grammar, spelling, punctuation, and content mistakes."

"Yes, sir," Harry asserted quickly.

"Alright, so let's begin. An essay should have an introduction, a body, and a conclusion. In your introduction, you should first tell me what the essay will be about, but try to do it in a clever or interesting way. Be a bit subtle about it. That will be your thesis statement. If, when you've finished the essay, you can't pick out your thesis statement, it's time to rewrite the introduction. Also, in the introduction, you should tell me what your main points are going to be. Just give them one line names, and tell me what they are, and in what order you're going to write about them.

"Then, in the body, you will use the list you made in the introduction to write about those points. You'll take each one, and expand on it, explaining it in more detail. Each new point will be a new paragraph, and sometimes, one point will take more than one paragraph. Simply state a new one when you will be talking about something slightly different.

"And then for the conclusion. You can do a number of things with this. But you will bring all your points together. You can make a general appeal to persuasion if you are writing a paper to change someone's mind, or you can impress upon your reader the importance of your topic. In an essay, I would recommend explaining the relevance of the given topic to your schooling, and to your life. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Now into specifics..."

.oO-Oo.

Severus sat with a mug of tea cooling at his elbow as he graded essays from the third years. Carefully, he had sent Harry to play with Nitty while he worked. Harry had seemed to take it well, but then, Severus wasn't sure if that was anything to go by. He loved Harry a great deal, more than he had loved anyone, except Lily. But he still needed time alone to work on his grading. He had never learned to do it when there was any noise around, and he hoped Harry hadn't taken the suggestion to play with Nitty elsewhere wrongly. It would be just like Harry to think he was being rejected for who knows what, and not even say anything.

Severus refocused himself on his essays and began again, rereading the horrendous paragraph from a particular Hufflepuff girl. Someone really needed to teach these children to write! Hogwarts clearly needed an English class. Primary school just wasn't teaching them like they used to, and these children had no idea how to write an essay. Just like Harry, except that they were faking their way through. Blast it all, a person would think that he was the only teacher who knew how to write an essay properly. So he continued to make notes in the margins about proper essay structure.

And so the long school year began for Severus. It wasn't that he didn't like teaching. He did, it was just that dealing with children was generally not his specialty, and non-cooperative ones at that. His patience was short and his tongue was sharp, if he wasn't consciously watching it. But such was his life, and, he figured, it could be a whole lot worse. At least Dumbledore had offered him a way to redeem himself.

Dumbledore. The old fool puzzled him. It was true, he, Severus, did tend to see the world in black and white. But did Dumbledore really feel that anything was justified if you could just point to a good cause? That was very slippery philosophy right there. Who would determine if the cause was good or not? There would be plenty of people who would maintain that Dumbledore's causes weren't really good. Even if they were Death Eaters, so what? They would still maintain that Dumbledore was wrong, and they were right. Which would, if the greater good was the guiding philosophy, justify every action a Death Eater ever took. It would justify the Dark Lord's existence. Because he would say that everything he had done was for the greater good. Just as Dumbeldore had done.

Could, perhaps, the two of them, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, have more in common than either was willing to admit? They were both power-hungry control freaks, Severus was learning. And both were willing to do anything to gain their own ends. There was nothing as dangerous as an opponent who would stop at nothing.

Perhaps, Severus thought, it would work out for the best in the end that Dumbledore led the light. Not that he approved at all of anything the man had done, but rather, if there was someone unscrupulous enough to do anything, against a man who would do anything, then perhaps, just maybe, they did have a shot at winning.

He still hated the man for doing what he had done to Harry. It didn't change anything. But the thought of good coming from it made the situation easier to bear in the meantime.

.oO-Oo.

And the week of school continued. Friday came, and Severus covered Potions and Herbology again with Harry. Harry loved those classes, since he was succeeding in them. The boy soaked up knowledge like a sponge and was very anxious to prove himself, due, in no small part, Severus was sure, in fear that a lack of performance would result in some punishment from the depths of hell.

Severus wasn't stupid, and he knew the Harry didn't fully trust him. It didn't take a genius to notice the little gasps, or flinches, or the way Harry's eyes would dart around the room and then rest on his hands. Well, maybe it did, actually, since it was his job to watch out for those little things as a spy. Perhaps the average person wouldn't notice them. But he had to. More than once his life had been saved by some little indicator like that.

He was willing to settle for the fact that Harry didn't trust him completely yet. He hoped that one day he could gain Harry's trust, more so for Harry's sake than for his own. Why should he care, personally, if Harry trusted him? It wasn't going to hurt him if the boy didn't! Or so he told himself. What was most important was that Harry could learn to trust. If he learned it with Draco, or one of the other students, Severus told himself that that would be good enough. Secretly, in the very back of his head, Severus knew he wanted that trust. He simply wouldn't admit it.

.oO-Oo.

After supper on Friday, Professor Snape called Harry over to sit with him in front of the fire, and Harry knew that his professor was planning something.

"I want to start working on getting your magic working again," the Professor said. "It may take a long time, but it should be possible. You will have to do everything I tell you, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, nodding vigorously, unknowingly reminding his Professor of a house elf.

"Alright, close your eyes." Harry looked at him warily for a moment, apparently judging if it was safer to obediently close his eyes, or keep them open to watch for anything dangerous. But keeping them open might well cause something dangerous to happen. After all, he had just promised to do everything Professor Snape said. Knowing that it was only instinct for Harry to want to see everything, Professor Snape allowed him that moment of hesitation without comment. After that, he closed them, slowly, concentrating on sounds instead.

"Now breathe, Harry," Severus said, his voice low, calm, and almost melodious. Harry could get lost listening to it. He was already well on his way to the altered mental state of meditation. "Slowly and carefully. Just focus on your breath, moving in and out of your lungs. Notice the coolness of the air coming in, and the warmness coming out." Professor Snape's voice began to be just a hum in the background, and Harry wasn't even thinking about the words anymore. It felt like he was ready to go to sleep.

"Now I want you to search your mind, and find some little tendril of magic, and follow it to its source," Professor Snape's voice suddenly cut in, and out of reflex, Harry jumped and began searching for that tendril before he could even object. It was just instinct to do what he was told without question. And although he didn't know it, Professor Snape had calculated for that and was trying to use it to his advantage.

Since Harry knew his own mind rather well, it didn't take him long at all to find that bit of magic and follow it. He had always, throughout the years, ignored whatever urge he felt to do this thing called "accidental magic." Now he was seeking out the source of it. Life had a sense of humor, apparently, and it wasn't funny.

"I have it, sir," Harry finally said.

"Imagine yourself poking it now," Professor Snape continued. "Imagine yourself making it bigger, prodding it, doing anything to make it larger. Pull on it. Anything."

Putting on a face of concentration, Harry did as instructed. After several minutes, he began to look tired, as his focus began to slip away.

"That's enough for tonight," Professor Snape cut in. "You may open your eyes now."

And Harry did.

"Now, before you go to bed, I'm going to give you a massage. Your muscles are sorely lacking, and now with some proper nutrition for a little while, you would do well with one." Professor Snape smirked at him slightly, and Harry felt like he must be a very interesting bug for a moment. "Especially if my plans for tomorrow work out."

"What plans, sir?" Harry blurted before he thought. Quickly, he covered his mouth with his hand, a horrified look in his eyes. Then, taking his hand away, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't want to know, really." His professor just gave him a stronger You're-a-very-interesting-bug look.

"It is perfectly fine that you ask, Harry," he finally said. "But it will be a surprise. Now, get ready for bed, and then I'll give you that massage."

.oO-Oo.

Harry couldn't believe how good he felt. His professor's hands were moving skillfully over his shoulders, relaxing the tight muscles in his neck, even realigning his spine. The oil that was being rubbed in smelled heavenly too. Between this, and the meditation, Harry was finding himself very sleepy. Not anxious about going to sleep either. Usually he approached the idea of sleep with a combination of dread and delight, because in his dreams, he either found a formerly much needed escape, or a recreation of hell.

But this time, he just felt like he wanted to sleep, without any feelings about it. He could feel himself drifting off every so often, only to be brought back to consciousness by the strong hands pressing against the base of his skull. Finally, not even that could keep him awake, and he drifted off into a peaceful dreamless sleep, free of any potions or drugs.

.oO-Oo.

Severus wiped his hands of the oil on them, and went to be himself. It had been a long week for him, and he doubted the rest of the year would be any better. He collapsed into bed, forgetting to change his robes again. When he realized this, he simply rolled over, being too exhausted to care, although he knew he really should see to his personal hygiene a bit better.

Severus found himself in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. He hadn't been in there since his own school days, but here he was again, and there was nothing but an empty room, secured, it seemed, from the inside so no one could get in. But suddenly, two figures appeared before him.

"Lily?" he gasped. "And Potter?" If his chin could have hit the floor, it probably would have.

"Hello, Severus," Lily replied. "Your stupid Occlemency shields haven't let us in until now. You finally forgot to close off your mind before going to sleep." Severus gave her a look of disbelief.

"And?" he said. "What do you and Potter want?"

"I thought you'd be a bit more pleased to see Lily than that," James interjected. "I see you haven't dulled your tongue at all in the past 10 years."

"My apologies," Severus muttered to Lily, ignoring James. "Is there something specific you wanted?" Severus placed his hands behind his back, and stood at attention, meeting Lily's gaze.

"I've been trying to get into your head for the past month!" she almost laughed. "Of course there's something specific! I wanted to ask you to keep Harry safe."

"Yes, Severus," James said. "As do I. Perhaps you were not my first choice in guardian for him, but it seems like you are the logical choice now."

"I will do everything in my power to keep him safe," Severus said. "I give you my word."

"Will you keep him from Dumbledore too?" James asked.

"Especially from Dumbledore," Severus snorted in response.

"Just keep my little boy safe from anyone who would hurt him," Lily pleaded. "It all falls to you."

"You don't think I know that?" Severus sneered. "The reality of that little fact has already made itself clear to me."

"I'm sure," James returned.

"You will do fine, Severus," Lily said, leaving James' side, and putting her hand on his cheek. Severus felt his breath catch at the touch, as he felt his gaze lock onto Lily's. "You just need to get custody of him. Somehow," she whispered.

"How can I?" Severus whispered back. "I need to stay on at least speaking terms with Dumbledore, or I have lost my freedom. My rash actions as a youth still haunt me. The Ministry would never let me, former Death Eater, have custody of the Boy Who Lived. Only if someone pulled strings..."

"Lucius Malfoy," James called. "He told you he'd pull strings for you. At least use the connections you've made."

"I will," Severus growled at James, still not looking at him. "I need to judge just what the repercussions with Dumbledore of such an action would be."

"If it works, you will have the Boy Who Lived," James pointed out. "What a bargaining piece. I believe Dumbledore would have to listen to you at that point."

"As much as I admire that line of Slytherin thinking," Severus said, "I do not want to compromise my position as a spy. I need to fill that position or we won't have information as to the Death Eater's plans. No one else can be the spy. I think you have the wrong person to look after your son."

"No, we don't," Lily said. "Just trust in yourself a bit more. How can Harry ever hope to trust a man who doesn't even trust himself?"

.oO-Oo.

Severus found that he had slept in Saturday morning. Harry had gotten up, and was wondering around the chambers aimlessly. It wasn't like he had instructions about what he was supposed to do, and heaven forbid he pick out a book on his own and read it.

"Good morning, Harry," Severus said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said brightly. "Better than I can ever remember." Severus smiled at him.

"That's good," he said. His thoughts flew back to the dream of the previous night. Some would probably call it a vision, but Severus thought it was just a dream. There wasn't any reason to believe it to be anything more. It wasn't like James and Lily had told him anything he didn't already know. A guilt trip over not practicing his Occlemency that night. Reminding him about the responsibility Harry presented. Telling him to seek out custody through Lucius. And then reminding him to fix up his own life so that he could help Harry. He already knew all of that. It was just his subconscious telling him in the figures of Lily and James.

It had happened before with him. How often hadn't he gone to bed with a problem and found the solution in a dream? It was just a sign of having a strong mind. And it was a given fact that his mind was very strong. If he could fool the Dark Lord himself with his Occlemency, then he certainly was very strong.

.oO-Oo.

After breakfast, Harry looked up at Severus wonderingly. He had eaten his usual amount for breakfast. Small, but acceptable. Severus wanted to see Harry eat more, but Harry was slowly improving on his own.

"So, would you like to see this surprise now?" Severus said.

"Yes, sir?" Harry asked. Severus had to wonder if he'd made the right choice in not telling Harry. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice. "Surprises" could hardly have been a good thing in Harry's past. Oh, well, what was done, was done.

"Come with me." Severus took out his wand, and walked with Harry to the far wall of his chambers. After incanting a long spell, he waved his wand, and a portal appeared before them.

"This will take us directly to the outside, and we won't have to walk in the halls with the other students. Don't worry, no one will be at this particular spot outside either. It's out there." Harry swallowed and nodded nervously. "Don't worry," Severus tried to assure him. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and allowed himself to be guided through the portal. They appeared outside, with the sun shining brightly. Harry blinked as his eyes adjusted from the dim light of the dungeons to the bright light of the outside.

"Here's the surprise," Severus said, handing Harry a package. Harry accepted it, and looked over the paper wrapping. It was long, about as tall as he was. There was a bulge at one end as well.

"You're supposed to open it up," Severus said, wondering where his patience was coming from. "Just rip the paper off." Harry bit his lower lip, contemplating the instructions. Severus knew Harry had never been given a present before, well, at least not in his memory, and it seemed sacrilegious to him to destroy anything - even plain brown wrapping paper. Of course Harry had been given an ocean of presents when he was an infant, still in the care of James and Lily. Even he had given the boy a present at his birth. More for his mother's sake that Harry's, but that was beside the point.

Finally, Harry's hand moved towards a seam in the paper, and he cautiously tore at it, glancing up every few moments to make sure Severus still approved of the actions. Every time there was a glance thrown his way, Severus would nod encouragingly. And so, slowly, tediously, Harry unwrapped the package. Eventually, the paper slipped off the item. Harry was holding a broom.

"It's a Nimbus 2000," Severus said, "even if that doesn't mean anything to you yet. I thought perhaps you'd like to fly on it."

"Fly, sir?" Harry questioned. After all, it wasn't like brooms were particularly aerodynamic.

"Yes, fly," Severus confirmed. "The broom is magical, and you would probably enjoy it, I think. Put it between your legs, with the broom end behind you." Harry did as he was told, as always, without question. "Now, focus on what you think it would feel like to start flying, and push off the ground."

Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration, and crouched low to the ground, holding the broom handle tightly. Then he sprang forward, both feet leaving the ground, but he was pulled back to earth, where he landed on his feet, and looked almost surprised that gravity had taken its natural course.

"Here let me help you," Severus said, standing next to Harry, with his hands on the broom, front and back of where Harry was sitting. Obviously, there was something wrong with the whole situation, probably stemming from Harry's suppression of magic. Severus was no broom expert. He could fly one, of course, but he didn't know anything about how it worked. He just did it. So there was probably something necessary for flying which Harry was suppressing. He murmured a few Latin words, which Harry didn't catch, and then stepped away.

"Try it again," Severus said, and Harry complied. This time, when he leaped from the ground, his broom took off into the air, and Harry yelped in surprise. He began to fly low to the ground, and always close to Severus, for which he was pleased. At least Harry showed that much intelligence on his first flying session.

Severus had spelled the broom to his own magic. Not an ideal solution, and not one he intended to keep forever, for Harry's magic needed to take over eventually, but for the meantime, as long as he was near enough, the broom would work off his magic instead of Harry's. The only question was in what sort of a space would he have to be before he would be out of range the the broom would fail? Harry was spiraling up, and Severus deemed that the safest way to determine the distance. If Harry exceeded the boundaries, he would fall vertically, and re-enter the magical field, unharmed.

But Harry never hit the boundary, before he came down of his own accord. He began flying in figure eights, and other patterns, experimenting with what he could do. Severus noticed that Harry was, in fact, quite skilled with a broom. Probably something he inherited from his father. Severus had no doubt that Harry would play for the Slytherin Quiddich team at some point. Obviously, Harry would not be able to play for some time, but perhaps someday. As little interest as Severus took in brooms and Quiddich, he did like to see his house beat Gryffindor at every turn.

"Alright, time to come down," Severus finally called to Harry. He landed expertly, and got off the broom. Harry handed it to Severus, who didn't take it.

"It's yours," he said. "You can keep it. I don't fly that much anyway." Harry looked at Severus and then his broom in disbelief.

"Thank you, sir!" he finally gasped. Severus nodded an acknowledgement.

.oO-Oo.

The weekend proved fruitful in Harry's progress in his school subjects, and his skills in flying. Severus had Harry meditating every night now, searching for his magic, and then trying to make it grow. After that, Severus continued to follow the schedule of Friday night, giving Harry his massage, effectively taking away most of the muscle soreness that would otherwise plague Harry after hours of flying.

There was no progress in Harry's magic performance though. And Severus expected as such. He was not disappointed in Harry's lack of ability, since he realized that it had taken years to reach this predicament. Perhaps it would take years to show Harry otherwise. The boy would have to show an uncommon resilience not to take years to be able to perform magic.

Perhaps Dumbledore, in the end, did not protect his weapon, but rather destroyed him for anyone.

.oO-Oo.

It was Monday evening, and Severus and Harry had just finished their supper (which Severus continued to take in his chambers, due to Harry's inability to eat in the Great Hall yet.) They had gone over Transfiguration and Charms - of course, more in theory than in practice.

"You do realize what tonight is, don't you?" Severus asked.

"No, sir," Harry replied.

"Tonight, you have a guest. Miss Hermione Granger is going to be coming. She's a Ravenclaw first year."

"Yes, sir." Harry fidgeted in his seat nervously, and Severus noticed.

"Is there something on your mind?" he questioned.

"I - I've never seen a girl before..." Harry muttered. "Are they - are they scary?" Severus almost smiled.

"Well, I suppose you might find her a bit scary in the beginning, but no, in reality, girls aren't scary," he assured Harry. He wanted to throw in a comment about kissing one would be scary, but Severus bit it back, knowing that it was probably in very bad taste and could be quite problematic for Harry.

"What is a girl like?" Severus blinked stupidly at the question. How in the world was he going to answer that?

"Well," he said, shamelessly stalling for time, "I suppose that they're really like any other person. They can be more emotional though. And sometimes they cry a lot for no reason."

"Why would they do that?"

"I suppose...well, sometimes I guess they just feel sad for reasons more complex that you or I could ever hope to understand, and then that frustrates them when we don't understand, and they get upset and cry." Alright, Severus knew he was grasping at straws and stringing words together, hoping to satisfy Harry's questions.

"Why are they girls?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Pardon?" Severus asked.

"What makes them girls?" Inwardly, Severus groaned. He didn't want to have this conversation ever, certainly not now, and not with Harry, not this soon. There was a knock at the door, and Severus thanked whatever deity there was for saving him from having to answer that question.

"That, I believe," Severus said, getting up, "would be Miss Granger. Come." Harry slid off his chair and followed Severus into the foyer. Severus opened the door, and there stood Hermione, nervously playing with her hands, and in fresh, clean Ravenclaw robes.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said. "This is Mr. Harry Potter. Harry, this is Hermione Granger."

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, stepping into Severus' chambers. He closed the door behind her.

"Hi," Harry mumbled, looking at the ground, every so often glancing up at Hermione.

.oO-Oo.

She was so different from anyone he'd seen before. Granted, he knew he hadn't seen that many people, except in the Great Hall for the sorting feast, but this was different. He was talking to her one on one, not in a big room with everyone. She had long poofy hair, and she seemed very confident and assertive.

"Hi," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to the ground. He found it hard to look at her, with her gaze boring holes into his soul. Or at least that was how it felt. Suddenly he noticed that her hand was extended towards him. He just looked at it and her face, trying to figure out what to do with it.

"You shake it," Professor Snape said, very quietly, as he walked behind him. So Harry cautiously put his hand out, and Hermione grasped his firmly, giving one strong shake before releasing it.

"Pleased to meet you, Harry," Hermione said.

"You too," Harry said, almost smiling shyly, as he looked at her sidelong. There was an awkward silence as the two children just looked at each other, Hermione waiting for Harry to do something, and Harry not knowing what to do.

"Perhaps you could play a game?" Professor Snape suggested.

"Yes, sir," Harry said quickly.

"Here's the Exploding Snap deck," he said, handing it to him. "Have fun, and don't bother me unless there's a problem. I will be in my office grading essays. Including yours, Miss Granger." He walked off, leaving his office door open a crack.

.oO-Oo.

Severus had to cover for Harry a little bit. He didn't want to interfere with the boy's social life, but apparently, Harry was inept enough that he'd need a little help. And he should have expected such. It had been his experience that a game was a good way to get started, because it provided a common thing for the parties involved to focus on.

He left his office door open so that he could hear if anything went wrong with Harry and Hermione. That way, he could conveniently "finish" his grading, or get something from the kitchen.

He hoped that the instructions to leave him alone hadn't been too harsh on Harry. He didn't want to come off as some emotional Hufflepuff in front of Hermione, and he didn't want Harry seeking refuge with him when he needed to learn how to deal with other children.

So Severus sat down at his desk, and began grading the potions essays turned into him by the first year Ravenclaws.

.oO-Oo.

"Umm..." Harry said, staring at the door that Professor Snape had just walked through. He wanted his professor to come back and help him deal with...with this girl. He didn't want her to burst into tears. He wouldn't know what to do.

"There's a table over there if you want to start playing it," Hermione suggested.

"There's a floor here," Harry observed, still too nervous to use the furniture in front of anyone but Professor Snape.

"Alright," Hermione shrugged, sitting on the floor. Harry quickly sat down across from her, turning the deck of cards in his hands. They were silent for a moment.

"Oh," Harry suddenly said. "I'm supposed to start."

"Yes," Hermione giggled. Harry smiled nervously at her. As long as she thought it was funny, and she wasn't upset or angry with him, that was fine. So he started dealing out the cards like Nitty had shown him, and they began to play.

Slowly, Harry's nervous defenses began to come down. He began to play the game with Hermione, although every so often he would still snap back into his rigid safety zone. Hermione was handling it well, not commenting on any of Harry's strange behavior, and letting him take his time with things.

All too soon, Professor Snape came out of his office. Harry jumped to his feet, followed by Hermione. Harry hoped he hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe they had been too loud and his professor was upset at having been disturbed?

"It's getting late," Professor Snape said. "It's almost curfew, I want you to be back in your common room before then, Miss Granger. Here is a note from me if Mr. Filch should give you a hard time about being out." He handed her a slip of paper, and walked to the door. Hermione followed him.

"Good night, Harry," she said. "It was fun!" Then she smiled at him, and Harry felt his face flush.

"Good night," he said, trying not to sound silly. "It was." And he smiled back.

.oO-Oo.

After the usual bedtime ablutions, Harry lay in bed thinking. It had been a long day, all things considering. He had worked on his Transfiguration and Charms theory. Still unable to do the spells, Harry was getting frustrated with the classes. Professor Snape insisted on him learning the theory though, because the more theory he learned now, the less difficulty he would have later on when he could perform the spells. He hated every minute of learning the theory without being able to do it - to know there was something beyond his ability - but he did it anyway, the studying, without any sign of complaint. It was certainly the least he could do, to study something. Professor Snape never did anything else to him that was in the least unpleasant, really.

Then he and the Professor had had supper, and then the Hermione girl had come. And that puzzled Harry. It puzzled him as to why anyone would want to come to play with him, and he was also puzzled about her. She hadn't cried. In fact, she seemed very level headed. Cold, but not unfriendly. He wasn't sure he could imagine her crying, at least not easily. But the the Professor had said that girls just cried without any reason sometimes, and that he wouldn't be able to understand it.

Oh, well. He supposed he could write off understand Hermione to the same category as his spells. But he did like her. In fact, he really liked her. It wasn't that they had talked a whole lot. There had only been a few personal statements, and most of what little they had said had been about the card game. But he liked it that she didn't ask questions and didn't pry. She just accepted what happened, no questions asked. It was a relief to escape his past and his reality, even if he did like his current life. For a few hours, then, in the evening, he could forget that he needed to learn to do spells, or write an essay for potions. He could just be himself, Harry.

He could just be a child.