An owl swooped low, and dropped a piece of paper on Severus' desk. He noticed it was an envelope - a muggle envelope - addressed to him. He opened it up, wondering what problem one of his muggle-born or half-blood students was going on about now.

Dear Mr. Snape,

I recently received word that you were made guardian of my nephew, Harry Potter. Whatever reason the Ministry might have had for this sudden change, it hardly seems appropriate that he have no contact with his relatives. I was hoping that perhaps we could have visitation rights, if wizards have such a thing.

I await your reply,

Vernon Dursley

Severus touched the paper as little as possible, repulsed as he was by touching it. The nerve of the man. Obviously he didn't expect anyone else to know about what had gone on. Well, two could play at this game. Severus sat down to write his reply.

Mr. Dursley,

Visitation rights is certainly understood by wizards. And of course you will be allowed to see your nephew. I will see to his transportation, and you can see him for the weekend. Expect him Friday night.

Severus Snape

.oO-Oo.

"Potter," Snape said, suddenly behind him after supper Saturday night.

"Yes, sir?" Harry asked, turning around to keep the man in his vision.

"I trust you have the extra potions you were to deliver to me?" He arched an eyebrow in silent understanding.

"Uh...yes, sir!" Harry said. "They're all brewed up, just still in the dormitory."

"Good," Snape said. "You need the extra credit, seeing what sort of abysmal grades you're getting in class. I want to see all of them on my desk by eight o'clock tonight. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered. Snape nodded at him and stalked off.

.oO-Oo.

Later, after supper, Harry found himself wandering up the staircases to the Gryffindor common room. He knew he had to give the sleeping potions to Snape. Snape wouldn't stand for anything less than every drop of it being handed over to him that night. But he didn't want to do it.

Just like every drug addict before me, Harry thought, and then winced at what his own mind told him. He sighed as he stepped into the common room, and then climbed to his dormitory. Thankfully, it was empty. He could just think for awhile without anyone interrupting. Harry went over to his dressed and opened the drawer where he kept the potions. They clattered lightly as he stopped the drawer from falling out on the floor.

He wouldn't have to give Snape all of it, a small voice told him. He could give him half of his stocks, say it was all of it, and then use the rest. He might even be able to continue to make it if he was sneakier about it. He could continue just the way he had since the middle of first term. The idea sounded very tempting as he stood there watching the bottles. Then suddenly he realized that watching them wasn't going to make them do any tricks. He rolled his eyes at himself.

He was being stupid. Snape was right. Taking the dreamless sleep every night like that was hurting him. Not only physically but psychologically as well. He was being a coward, hiding behind potions. And in that moment, before he lost his nerve, he scooped up the bottles and dropped them in his school bag. Harry ran down the dormitory steps.

"Where are you off to?" Ron demanded as Harry rushed past him.

"Getting those extra credit potions to Snape!" Harry called back. Then Harry disappeared through the portrait without waiting for a reply.

"He's really got extra credit potions?" Ron whispered to Hermione. "Since when does he do extra credit potions?" She shrugged, and Ron looked bewildered.

Harry, on the other hand, hadn't stopped running once he left the common room, but thankfully no one was around to see this horrible display of manners. He was determined to get those potions to Snape before he turned back and began to use them again. It was strange, he realized, the feeling of liberation he was getting from his decision. But that was until he realized that he'd have to suffer through his nightmares without it. He slowed his pace to a walk, and placed his hand protectively over his bag. He suddenly felt rather nervous about handing it over to Snape.

His moment of bravery was over, he realized. And then he felt like kicking himself. He was a Gryffindor, for crying out loud! He could do whatever he wanted because he had the nerve to do anything. Resolutely, he walked on a little farther. Then he heard someone move behind him and he whirled.

"Made your decision, I see?" Snape said and stepped from the shadows.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with more confidence than he felt. Snape nodded at him, and Harry got the impression that Snape knew everything that had gone through his mind. All the doubt and unsureness, the reluctance, and even reminding himself that he was a Gryffindor. Snape reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cloth bag and held it open. Wordlessly, Harry opened his own bag and began to put the concentrated potion into the other one.

"There's one thing I forgot to tell you," Snape said, once the potions were successfully transferred. "When you're dreaming, ask yourself how you got in that situation, or got to that place. If it's not a dream, you will know the answer. If it is a dream, you won't be able to answer it at all, and your dream will come crumbling down around you."

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, looking at the ground. He felt ashamed of his fear of the nightmares, and apparently it showed on his face.

"It's alright to be scared," Snape said quietly, after glancing around to see that no one could hear them. "Just don't let the fear possess you. It's something Gryffindors are rather good at. Use it." And Snape turned and walked away abruptly.

Harry almost smiled as Snape walked away in his usual blustery manner, cape billowing behind him. The awkwardness that Snape gave off was humorous, he realized. Snape was out of his depth, dealing with him, and Harry actually found he liked throwing the man off a bit. He also turned and returned to his dormitory. No one was in the room, so Harry grabbed his book, Quiddish Throughout the Ages, and absentmindedly opened his dresser drawer. When he didn't hear the familiar tinkle of glass, he remembered.

"Blast," he hissed, and quietly closed his drawer. He didn't want to sleep without his potion, but he knew he would have to. As much as he would have just spent the night awake, he knew he couldn't continue that, and escaping sleep tonight would just make his position worse later on. He opened up his books as he lay on his bed and tried to read, but found that he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to the potions he didn't have. Perhaps he should make some more. No, his better mind called back, that would defeat the purpose, because he really did need to kick his addiction. He still winced as he called it that.

He slammed his book closed, and just then, Ron stepped in. Harry swung his legs out and sat on the bed as he tossed the book into the trunk at the foot.

"Upset about something?" Ron asked.

"Not at all," Harry said, faking sincerity.

"Really now," Ron replied. Harry didn't respond.

"I'm going to bed," Harry finally announced, as he quickly changed clothes for the night, and crawled under the covers. He curled into a fetal position and brought the covers close to his face, subconsciously trying to block out the rest of the world.

His mind was racing as he knew this was his first night in months without anything to block out his dreams. He was terrified, even though his rational mind tried to tell him that they were only dreams. That he had nothing to fear. But it didn't help bring down his anxiety. Finally, he began to try to focus his mind on other things and clear it like Snape had told him all those Occlumency lessons ago. Before he knew it, he was in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness.

He didn't have to wait long for his nightmare to strike.  Harry quickly realized he couldn't remember leaving Hogwarts, and just as Snape had promised, his dream hell came falling apart.

Harry sat up with a start, drawing his wand instinctively. It had worked. Snape's lucid dreaming advice had worked! He was more tired than when he'd gone to sleep, but he'd avoided the nightmare and the potion. Maybe as he got better at this, it wouldn't wear him out so much to fight the dream. As he caught his breath, he noticed a figure move in the dark.

"You alright, Harry?" Ron whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" Harry whispered back.

"You were having a nightmare," Ron said. "And you were - well you were begging someone to leave you alone. You've never had nightmares. Is Snape treating you alright?" Blast, he'd forgotten the silencing spell. Every night, without fail, he'd cast that spell over his bed, and then the first time his routine got disrupted, of course he'd forget the spell!

"Yeah, Snape's fine," Harry said. "It's just Voldemort."

"Okay," Ron said. "Good night."

"Good night."

.oO-Oo.

Severus easily procured a piece of Potter's hair, and dropped it into a mud brown potion. It sizzled for a moment, and then turned a murky blue. Essence of Potter, he thought. If you had told him a month ago he would voluntarily drink such a thing, he would have told you to report yourself to St. Mungo's mental facility. After making an appropriate face, Severus knocked the potion back and swallowed it in one go. It tasted as expected - terrible.

In a few moments, Severus felt his body morph into Potter's slimmer, smaller body. After checking in a mirror that all had gone well, Severus cast a notice-me-not charm, and slipped out of his chambers and onto the castle grounds. Once he was beyond the wards, he apparated to Private Drive. Was Vernon Dursley in for a surprise!

It was evening of Friday night, as he had promised. Dursley would be expecting the boy. Trying to assume Potter's mannerisms, Severus-Potter knocked on the door. In a moment, it opened to reveal the whale of a man that so regularly abused Potter. Severus-Potter had to use every ounce of self-control to not sneer at him. Unconsciously, Severus-Potter's hand moved toward his pocket where he felt his wand.

"Come in, Harry," Dursley said, stepping aside. Severus-Potter, faking meekness, did as instructed. "So good of that Snape fellow to let me see you again. You know he didn't offer any argument at all for not letting you come here."

"I know," Severus-Potter said stiffly.

"Why did they let him adopt you anyway?" Dursley continued. "You didn't say anything, did you?"

"I need to use the loo," Severus-Potter said abruptly, guarding his eyes as he thought Potter would do, and he slipped away quickly. Once the door was closed, Severus-Potter slipped another vial of polyjuice potion out of his pocket and drank it down. Quickly, he transformed back into himself. It was the fastest way to undo a transformation - to make one of yourself. He'd never done it before, and his only thought was that "Essence of Snape" tasted very, very bitter. He tossed the bottle aside, and pulled out his wand, ready to make his debut to Dursley. He stepped out, and saw the man waiting for the person he believed to be his nephew.

"What - ? Who - ?" Dursley stammered stupidly.

"Severus Snape," he said as means of explanation as he leveled his wand at the man. "And I'm here to deal with you properly. Potter never willingly speaks of what happened between you, but I forced it out of him. And no one hurts Lily's child without answering to me. Is that understood?" He spoke in his most threatening tone of voice. It wasn't loud, but anyone who possessed even the slightest amount of self-preservation instinct knew to not cross up Severus Snape when he spoke that way. Dursley was clearly terrified.

"Just go," he said, trying to wave the stranger out the door.

"No," Severus barked back. "I'm going to see that something close to justice happens."

"What are you going to do?" Just as Dursley asked the question, and Severus was trying to formulate an answer, Severus' arm twinged. It was the kind of pain that signaled a Death Eater meeting - not an individual summons.

"I'm going to turn you into a bat and deal with you later," he said suddenly, and cast the spell. A very fat, black bat began to crawl towards him, squeaking madly. Severus picked him up and thrust him in his pocket. "And you'll be absolutely silent if you have any idea what's good for you," Snape continued. The chatter from his pocket stopped. And then Severus apparated, bat an all, to the Dark Lord's manner.

.oO-Oo.

Severus sat, bored, as he listened to the drivel of his fellow Death Eaters. It wasn't anything important that was happening, and he would much rather have been sitting in his chambers grading papers. He would have rather have been talking to Potter, he suddenly realized. Oh, this was bad, if he'd rather talk to the boy than sit here listening to the meeting. Just went to show how bored he was. Of course he didn't show any of his true feelings on the meeting, because it would have been very inappropriate to be bored while his lord was speaking of this, that, and the next thing. So he appeared to be raptly interested. Silently, he wished for the meeting to be over. Generally when interesting things happened at a Death Eater meeting, they were bad things. So he wasn't hoping for interesting.

The bat in his pocket hadn't made a sound since having been given the warning. Apparently Dursley wasn't always as stupid as he looked.

"And lastly," the Dark Lord was saying to his group, "we have a guest." Severus almost visibly perked up at that. This was one of those bad interesting things. He hoped this wasn't about Dursley. But then if it was, he would have no problem turning the man over to the Death Eaters. "You may come in and make your case to the group." Well, not Bat-Man, Severus thought wryly. As much as he hated puns, they always did have a way of occurring to him. The doors of the room swung open, and a man in a cloak walked in. His face was obscured from Severus' view by the hood.

"Thank you," a familiar voice responded when the stranger stood only a few paces from the Dark Lord. Then the man turned and slowly lowered his hood. Hisses broke out from the crowd, and wands were drawn.

"Now, now," the Dark Lord said in his soothing tone of voice, "wands away. Let him speak." His Death Eaters complied. Severus gazed in shock on the man in their midst.

"What are you doing here, Black?" he asked. Black looked at him and appeared almost sorrowful.

"You're a spy," he announced, and Black glanced nervously over the crowd. There was a low murmuring.

"Of course I am!" Severus said, standing and marching to the front of the room where he stood opposite to Black. "If you've come here to report something which is as well known as the weather, I would advise that you do it to a mentally incompetent audience!" The murmuring among the Death Eaters rose a notch.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, Snape," Black continued. "You work for Dumbledore." Severus rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders dramatically.

"Of course I do! How do you think I would be a double agent if I didn't work for two opposed sides at the same time? Really, Black, your intelligence, or lack thereof, will never cease to astound me." Black made no immediate reply but slowly walked a full circle around Snape, looking him over carefully.

"You misunderstand me," Black said. "I said you work for Dumbledore."

"And?"

"Dumbledore is the one you're loyal to. You're not loyal to him," he pointed at the Dark Lord, "or them," he waved an arm at the crowd of Death Eaters. "You're loyal to the headmaster."

"Prove it," Severus hissed at him. "You can't prove my loyalties one way or another."

"Harry," Black said, and Severus involuntarily took a step back. It took only a moment, and Severus regained himself.

"What about Potter?" he sneered.

"You adopted him," Black accused. Then he turned to the Death Eaters. "Your spy adopted the Boy-Who-Lived! Is that what one loyal to you would do? Is it?" The crowd was absolutely silent. A pin dropping could have been heard. "He didn't even tell you, did he?" Black whispered, though his voice carried. Severus looked beseechingly at his master. The Dark Lord only looked at him curiously. Then Severus glanced out over his comrades, scared of what he would see there. Bellatrix rose. She looked furious, no, murderous.

"Is this true, Severus?" she asked.

"It is true that I have adopted Potter," he spat, "but in no way am I loyal to Dumbledore." He made a face as though the very thought repulsed him.

"Then why did you adopt the boy?" Lucius asked. He seemed much calmer the Bellatrix, but no less dangerous.

"Dumbledore demanded it," he replied. "The old fool didn't believe that his relatives were good enough to him." There was a screech from his pocket, but he silenced Dursleys with firm slap to his pocket. "And, romantic that he is, he believes that I care for the boy because of the unfortunate childhood drama with Lily Evans." He was twisting facts, and outright painting the opposite image from the truth, but what else would a good spy, a good Slytherin, do? In reality, he knew it was his idea to take Potter in, and he did care for him because of his love for Lily. But he had to do everything in his power to discredit that. It felt like stabbing himself, though, to even say one word against Lily.

But a better concern was, why was Black standing opposite him at a Death Eater meeting? Why was Black trying to discredit him? Why was Black doing this? Severus certainly didn't know, but he suspected it might have to do with some misguided sense of love for Potter. His first thought was to blame the boy for not having explained the situation properly to Black, but then realized that Potter would probably have done the best job he could. In fact, Potter probably didn't know of anything his godfather had planned that night.

"Then will you hand the boy over?" the Dark Lord asked. Severus' mind was working as fast as it could trying to find some explanation.

"I can't, my lord," he said, hoping his voice was confident and quick enough to convince. "The boy is held within the safety of the castle. The wards prevent any teacher forcing a student off the grounds."

"Surely you can convince him to come with you willingly?"

"My lord," Severus said, stalling for time, "I have no plausible excuse to bring Potter off school grounds. He doesn't trust me, and would be suspicious if I asked for such a thing. Perhaps with the summer holidays, something can be arranged." Severus almost bowed, he wasn't sure out of fear or an act of respect, though he leaned towards the fear.

"Severus, Severus, my dear Severus," the Dark Lord murmured as he stepped close to the man. He reached out and with one finger brought Severus' gaze to his own. The only sign of a struggle was that Severus winced and closed his eyes. The Dark Lord had invaded Severus' mind and was tearing through memories and feelings never before revealed. Under normal circumstances, Severus was sure he wouldn't have broken. But with Black standing there accusing him of reality, he had a very difficult time keeping those thoughts from the forefront of his mind. When the Dark Lord released his mind, Severus gave a small gasp and looked helplessly around him. His master did nothing, said nothing.

"You said Dumbledore thought Harry's relatives didn't treat him right?" Black murmured to Severus.

"Congratulations," Severus sneered. "Your ears work. Halleluiah!"

"What did they do to him?" Black asked. "He never explained why he couldn't see me for Christmas except - that his relatives needed him." Severus plastered a blank look on his face, unwilling to give in to the torrent of words and facial expressions he could use to answer this question.

"I believe this one can answer your questions," Severus finally said, drawing the bat from his pocket and canceling the spell. Vernon Dursley stood before them. "He's the boy's uncle. Black, do with him what you will." Severus silently added that any fate a wizard could give him would be too good. Even though the two of them were enemies, Black seemed to understand the unspoken thought. He nodded curtly. The Dark Lord stood looking on, apparently amused. Severus knew he was a dead man. He was surprised his master hadn't cast the killing curse the moment he had finished viewing memories. But he didn't want to see Dursley go unpunished, and if Black would see to it for him, then so be it. At least the man could redeem himself in some small way.

"My lord," Severus said with a nod of his head. "If you will. I'm ready." He stood tall with his palms facing out, ready to take his death sentence. The Dark Lord simply raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"Take a seat, Severus," he said. Severus stood there dumbfounded for a moment, but then regained himself.

"Yes, my lord," he said, and immediately took his place among his peers. There were whispers and murmurings, but they were like flies buzzing to Severus. Whatever the other Death Eaters had to say was no where near as important as the simple order to sit. There were more things at work than Severus understood obviously. And that infuriated him, since he knew everything from both sides at every moment. But apparently he didn't.

Black and Dursley stood assessing each other wordlessly. Finally, with a flick of his wand, Black motioned Dursley to the door.

"You're not going to just let him walk away, are you, my lord?" Bellatrix objected when the two of them began to leave.

"Hush, Bella," the Dark Lord purred, and the woman calmed immediately. "Sirius," he continued, "are you sure you don't wish to join us? Surely anyone who would let an innocent rot in Azkaban for twelve years does not deserve that same man's loyalty."

"You let your own lot rot in Azkaban too," Black spat.

"Ah, but I rescued them as soon as I was able," the Dark Lord said silkily. "It was most unfortunate that any of them had to be there. But I did everything in my power to help them. Can you say the same of Dumbledore?"

"No," Black said. "And I'm not loyal to him."

"Then who are you loyal to?"

"No one," Black said offhandedly.

"You mean you're loyal to the Potter boy," the Dark Lord suggested. "Let me assure you, I offer him a fast and easy death. What does Dumbledore offer? He'll use the boy. Make him into a weapon, mold him. Does he even see Potter as a person? Will he give him the dignity of an honorable death?"

"I - I don't know," Black stammered. Severus wanted to slap his forehead. Couldn't Black see what the Dark Lord was doing? He was simply using Black's own motivators and desires to make the Death Eaters seem a better option. It was all the Dark Lord ever had done. The worst part was how good he was at it.

"Sirius," the Dark Lord continued. "Please, do consider. I will let you go as a sign of my good faith. You may interrogate this man, and when you have learned all you can, I want you to consider what sort of a fate Dumbledore gave your godson." Black just looked stiffly at him, and nodded mutely. Then he poked Dursley with his wand and the two left.

"Meeting dismissed!" the Dark Lord said. "You may all go home." Severus tried to creep to the back of the room to apparate when Bellatrix raised her voice.

"And Severus?" she asked. "What did you find?"

"That he is loyal," the Dark Lord said without missing a beat. Severus' jaw could have dropped on the floor. "Sirius Black is mad," he continued. "There is no truth in what he says. Yet he would be a valuable asset. Severus, do stay."

"Yes, my lord," he murmured with guarded eyes. Definitely a dead man. When all the others were gone, his master stepped over to him and eyed him as he walked circles around Severus. Severus tried not to flinch or give any sign of being uncomfortable.

"You and I both know what I saw tonight," the Dark Lord said eventually.

"Yes, my lord," he said, swallowing nervously.

"There is no need to call me your lord anymore, Severus," he instructed, morphing into Tom Riddle. Severus winced.

"The only mercy I ask for is that it be quick," he requested.

"Don't you understand, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked curiously. "I've known all along about your loyalties. You're more use to me alive than dead. It doesn't matter what side you're on. I can still use you." Severus gazed at the man before him in horror.

"So it's all been a waste," he murmured sorrowfully. "Everything I've ever endured. Everything was a total waste." He felt a tightening in his chest.

"Exactly," Tom said, as he pushed Severus against the wall.