Harry work with a start the next morning. It was Sunday morning, and Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He had successfully avoided his nightmares that night, but he woke up tired. Swinging his legs out of bed, he noticed that no one else was up yet. Well, that was their business, he figured. It wasn't like they had nightmares to hide from. He shrugged and changed into jeans and a hoodie before stumbling down the dormitory steps.

The lights were horribly bright, he realized as he put his hand in the way. Even then, he was still wincing to see. No one was up. Fine! He'd just go find someone else in some other part of the castle if all his housemates decided to sleep. But the light in the hallway wasn't any better. Harry focused his gaze on the carpet, where the light wasn't so bright, and found his way to the Great Hall.

There were a few people there, he was glad to find. One Gryffindor third year, two Ravenclaws, and a Slytherin. He didn't know any of them, but he sat down at the Gryffindor table anyway, careful to sit a healthy distance from the only other Gryffindor in the room. He didn't want to talk to her, but he didn't want to be clearly rude either. He put some food on his plate, set the serving spoon aside, and then looked up at the head table.

Snape was there, watching him intently. Alright, he grabbed the spoon again and plopped another scoop of hot cereal into his bowl. He could have sworn that Snape smirked at him. Harry made a subtle face at the man, and began to eat. When he was halfway through the food, and his mind in an entirely different world, he heard someone clear his throat behind him. Harry turned, and saw Snape.

"Finally decided to pay the world around you your attention, Potter?" Snape drawled, but Harry could tell there was a slight difference in the tone. It wasn't quite as cold as it once would have been, and there was a slight note of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, scrambling to his feet, still nervous. He tried to meet Snape's eyes, but he found he couldn't. The lights were still too bright. So he settled for casting his eyes on the ground and hoping he didn't look guilty.

"I need to discuss those extra credit potions with you," Snape said. "They were awful enough that it might have to count against you." Harry raised an eyebrow discreetly, but didn't say anything. "My office, after you finish." And then the man left.

So after he finished, he darted down to Snape's office to see what was up. He had a pounding headache, and all he could think about was the way his heartbeat echoed in his skull. By the time he knocked on Snape's door, the sound felt like it was going to make his head explode.

"Come in!" Snape barked, and Harry winced, not at the words, nor the tone, but at the sound itself. He stepped in and closed the door quietly behind him. Thankfully, Snape always kept his chambers dimmed, so Harry finally could open his eyes fully.

"Drink this," Snape ordered as he thrust a potion into Harry's hands. Harry turned it over and looked at it. It was a thick silvery liquid. "If you think I'm trying to poison you, I would have done it long ago," Snape drawled.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It will make you feel better," Snape dodged.

"How do you know I'm not feeling good?" Harry continued.

"Because you can't stand looking into the light and you have a headache. Common withdrawal symptoms. Now drink it!" Without another moment's hesitation, Harry knocked the bottle back and swallowed it. Almost immediately, he felt better.

"Thank you," he said. Snape just nodded curtly. Harry looked around, unsure what to do. "It worked," he finally said.

"What did?" Snape asked.

"The lucid dreaming," Harry clarified. "It worked."

"That's good," Snape said. "It will be much better for you in the long run. Now go along. I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are."

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled and left.

.oO-Oo.

"Now, tell me what Snape was talking about," Sirius growled to a trembling Vernon Dursley. They were alone in Grimmauld Place, Friday night after they left the Death Eater meeting. Dursley made no motion to answer the question. "Tell me!" Sirius screamed as he slammed the over sized man into the wall.

Suddenly there was a screeching from the hallway. Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically and cast a charm to block out his mother's screaming.

"I have no idea what he was talking about," Dursley said with clenched teeth.

"Oh, yes, you do," Sirius chuckled, pointing his wand at Durlsey's throat. It wasn't that Sirius was amused. Not at all, and that was what made him all the more dangerous. "I might not like Snape - that's an understatement - I hate Snape, but he would never have adopted Harry and had you in his pocket if something wasn't going on!"

"I refuse to tell you anything," Dursley huffed. Sirius backed off. He looked resigned.

"Fine," he said. "Fine, you don't have to tell me anything." He left Dursley in the room and came back with two glasses with clear liquid which he set down. When Dursley didn't move to take the other one, Sirius motioned him with his hand.

"I'm not letting you go till you tell me, and you're not going to tell me, so it seems like you're going to be staying awhile," Sirius said, taking a seat as he cradled his glass. "Drink up."

"How do I know you haven't poisoned this?" Dursley asked, eying the glass skeptically.

"If I wanted to kill you, there are much more efficient means at my disposal," Sirius said. Dursley nodded, and drank the liquid. When it was finished, Sirius jumped up from his seat and set his glass aside, his own drink forgotten.

"There! You drank it!" he screamed triumphantly.

"So it was poisoned!" Dursley barked back.

"No!" Sirius smirked. "Truth serum. Why was Harry taken away from you?"

"I don't know for sure!" Dursley sneered.

"Take your best guess."

"Fine, I was using the freak." Sirius stopped, digesting what was just said.

"Using how?" he said warily, drawing his want again.

"How do you think?" Vernon sneered.  Sirius blinked in shock.

"If you didn't have that potion in your veins, I wouldn't believe you," he said. "How could you?" Sirius grabbed Dursley by his shirt front and slammed him into the wall to the rhythm of his words. "How - could - you?" Dursley made no reply, whether because he had none, or because of the force being inflicted upon him, Sirius didn't know. "You - I don't even have words for you!" Sirius took his wand and pointed it threateningly. "Any fate I can come up with for you is too good," he hissed, sounding a lot like Snape, he realized, but he was too angry to care. "You raped my godson!"

And with that, Sirius began firing every spell he could think of at Dursley who writhed on the ground.

"I should have you castrated!" Sirius screamed.

.oO-Oo.

Harry was asleep in his dormitory on Friday night. His lucid dreaming had succeeded that week. Mostly. Once he was trapped in a dream so deeply that he couldn't break it. But his silencing charm had kept his room mates from knowing what was up.

He was Voldemort. It was strange - and scary - because even as he was Voldemort, he still retained a bit of his Harry-consciousness. Snape was standing before him. More accurately, Snape was almost cowering before him. Almost. Snape looked resigned, but submissive.

"You and I both know what I saw tonight," Harry said. No! Voldemort said it. Not Harry. Although it felt like he was saying it. Voldemort was very pleased. He was just thrumming with anticipation and a cruel delight.

"Yes, my lord," Snape said.

"There is no need to call me your lord anymore, Severus," Voldemort-Harry said.

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

"Don't you understand, Severus? 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." Harry felt his conscious reel in horror as he realized what it felt like he was saying.

"So it's all been a waste. Everything I've ever endured. Everything was a total waste."

"Exactly."

Harry forced himself to wake, and immediately slipped out of bed. This was one of those dreams that was real, he realized. He threw on his jeans and hoodie, left there for the morning, and threw his invisibility cloak about himself. Wand in hand, he slipped out of Gryffindor tower.

If his dream was true, Snape wouldn't be in his chambers. If it wasn't true, then Snape would probably be there. And if he were there, Harry realized, he'd certainly get the lecture of his life, but it would be worth it. As he hurried along, Harry imagined the scene.

"Potter! What are you doing wandering the castle at this hour? Don't you know it's 3 in the morning?"

"Yes, sir. You see, I just had this dream..."

"You're awake now! Go back to bed."

"Yes, sir!"

Harry would have smiled at his own image of Snape, sleepy eyed, scolding him from the doorway, but Harry was too convinced of his dream's reality to be inclined to smile at any fantasy he made up. When he got to Snape's door, he knocked quietly. Nothing happened. So Harry tried again. Still nothing.

"Alohomora," Harry whispered, and the door popped open. Harry slipped inside. Everything was pitch black. "Lumos," he whispered again and began to search Snape's chambers quickly. Without too much trouble, he found Snape's bedroom, and to his disappointment, but not to his surprise, Snape wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere to be found. So Harry decided that his dream had been reality.

So Voldemort knew about Snape being a spy. And he had been so happy about grinding Snape into the dirt with that knowledge. What killed Harry more than anything was that he knew that Snape was taking it hard. Just the look in the man's eyes was enough to know that. And Harry could only imagine what it would be like to discover that everything you'd suffered for countless years was turned to ashes in a moment.

He picked up a pinch of floo powder and cast a spell on it to take him wherever the last trip had been. Harry knew he was taking a chance with this, but perhaps the last place Snape had gone was wherever he was now. Harry didn't have to know where it was. If it was protected by a secret keeper, he wouldn't even have to be given the address. Because he didn't have to know the address.

Harry stepped into the fireplace, nervous, still covered in his cloak. Better to not let Voldemort know too much, he figured. He might not be able to get his general presence by the overgrown snake, but it might buy him a few moments, a few dear and precious moments. With a flare of green flames, Harry stepped out into a drear and cold stone room. It didn't take him a second and he assessed the situation.

Voldemort - or rather, Tom Riddle - was assaulting Snape. So engrossed was he, that he didn't notice the noise or the light from the floo. Riddle had Snape against the wall and was running his hands over his professor's bare chest. Snape had a dead look in his eyes. He'd given up, Harry realized. Snape must feel that there was nothing left for him to live for, or to fight for.

Harry wasn't going to let it happen to Snape again! If anything, Snape's resignation strengthened his determination. Harry aimed his wand carefully and whispered "Stupefy" but nothing happened. He shook his wand and tried again, but still there was no reaction. He needed to do something, and fast, he realized. Harry whipped his cloak off, revealing himself.

"Riddle!" he screamed, aiming his mysteriously useless wand at his mortal enemy. "Back off now!" Slowly, Riddle turned to face him.

"Harry Potter," he intoned, sneering. "Come to rescue Severus, I suppose?" Snape looked horrified.

"Potter, you fool," he said through gritted teeth.

"Leave him alone," Harry repeated, both his voice and his wand shaking. "Leave him alone, I'm telling you!"

"And what do you think you have that will convince me to do that?" Riddle said silkily. "Your wand is useless here. Just like lead stops muggle x-rays," Harry gave Riddle a shocked look, "yes, of course I know of them, but just like that, there are dampers on your magic here when I put them up. Anything but my magic. And unless you can somehow use my magic, then well, I'm sorry, but you're out of luck! So I ask you, what can you offer me?"

"Myself," Harry said, without missing a beat. He couldn't think of anything else. If Riddle wanted someone, it would be him, not Snape. Snape was actually more vulnerable than he was at the moment, Harry realized. They were both broken, but Snape was in shock. It wouldn't hurt him, Harry thought, if it happened just once more. It wasn't like he was going to get any more contaminated if it happened at the hands of Voldemort.

"Yourself?" Riddle asked skeptically. "Do you really mean that?"

"Potter!" Snape broke in, clearly panicking, yet sneering at the same time. "Get out of here!" Harry looked at Snape, and recognized the same protectiveness that he felt. He shook his head sadly. There was no way he could leave Snape now. Even if he wanted to, Voldemort would never let him go.

"I hardly can stop you, now, can I?" Harry snapped, his tone acerbic.

"Yet you suggest it," Riddle said, taking a step towards his newest prey. Harry didn't back off. Although he wanted to, backing off would only demonstrate that he understood the lack of control that he had. It would only demonstrate his fear.

"Only to protect him," Harry said, pointing a finger at Snape. "Do what you must to me, but leave him alone. He's suffered too much at your hands already."

"Is that really your decision to make?"

"What is my decision is how I conduct myself."

"And you have decided to give yourself to me, in exchange for that one?" Riddle pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at Snape.

"Yes," Harry said, very committed. "Leave him alone and I will give myself over to you."

"What is to stop me from taking you and him?"

"Nothing other than your word," Harry said. He hadn't counted on being unable to work magic, and he had no leverage against Voldemort now.

"Despite what some may say, I am an honorable enemy," Riddle was saying. "If those are the conditions you set forth, those are the conditions I will abide by. What love won't do. Truly, what a weakness love really is. How quickly you become my willing victim." Harry scoffed.

"If you think this is willing, obviously we have a different definition of unwilling!"

"Perhaps," Riddle dismissed, standing within a few inches of Harry. "The Boy-Who-Lived, handing himself over to me." Harry looked over at Snape, who was livid now. At least that horrible look of apathy was gone, Harry thought. But Snape needed to go before Voldemort changed his mind.

"Legillimens," Harry whispered so quietly that no one could hear. His mind brushed Snape's, and Snape opened up to him. Harry carefully imagined Snape leaving by means of the fireplace, and then pictured him sitting comfortably in his chambers, safe from Voldemort. Snape just sneered at him, and that, Harry realized, stung more than anything Riddle was doing to him at the moment.

"Your uncle taught you well, I see," Riddle said, as he touched Harry black mop. "Not resisting at all."

"How - ?"

"He broke my mind," Snape said bitterly. There was silence for a moment. "I'm sorry." Harry just nodded. Snape hadn't meant to reveal his secret.

"Just go, Snape!" Harry finally snapped.  "Just go! Don't make this for nothing!"

"You've already made mine for nothing," Snape said, his eyes suddenly flashing. He stepped over to where his former master and his adoptive son were. "You should never have come! The least you could do is let me continue to protect you in some sort of a sick, twisted way!" Emotions were running high, Harry realized, because suddenly, Snape's voice lost its anger.

"Severus," Riddle said. "Don't you think you should do as the boy says? He did give himself up for you."

"He gave up the war for me!" Snape hissed. "Is that what you wanted, Potter? To condemn the world to whatever fate he assigns simply to save me once? I'm not worth that."

"I told you that anyone who knew and didn't do anything was just as guilty as Vol - I mean, Riddle," Harry said. "Did you want me to bear that guilt too? Just go, already!" Harry averted his eyes from both Snape and Riddle as his abuser lowered him to the ground.

He had given up the war for Snape, he realized. He'd not thought of that. In trying so hard to do that right, noble thing, he had in fact made a horribly wrong choice. He silently cursed his own stupidity. Perhaps sometimes it was better to be a coward, he realized.

He just wanted - he didn't know what he wanted. He wanted Snape to leave. And he wanted his own agony to end. He wanted to forget this mistake - forsaking the world for one person.

"Leave him be, Tom!" Snape screamed, laying a strong hand on the man's shoulder, still trying to protect Harry. But he didn't react to Snape at all. "Leave him be!"

Harry's breath began to come in ragged gasps as he struggled against his own emotions which threatened to overwhelm him. The grief, the anger, the despair. Almost without realizing it, he reached out for something mentally. It was unfamiliar, and Harry grasped it with the strength of a drowning man.

He didn't know what happened, but the world exploded with noise and red. He sighed once, and slipped into unconsciousness.

.oO-Oo.

When he came to in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, Harry's first reaction was to curl himself into a ball.

"If you think you're hiding from me," a familiar voice drawled, "then I'm afraid you'll have to use a more effective method." Slowly, Harry uncurled and saw his potions professor looking at him curiously. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"What happened?" Harry gasped, rubbing the back of his skull. He had a pounding headache and there was a lump there, so he must have hit his head on something.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Snape commented, taking a seat by Harry's bed. "Somehow, you worked magic in that room, despite the dampers. Do you have any idea how you did such a thing?"

"No, sir," Harry said. "I just - I mean, I felt something. It wasn't from me though. It was inside me, but it wasn't me. And I was desperate and then, well, I passed out."

"I see," Snape said. "How do you feel now?"

"Better than I've ever felt," Harry said sheepishly. Snape just nodded gravely.

"That was what I thought you would say."

"Will you just tell me what's going on?" Harry snapped.

"The Dark Lord is dead," he said simply. "You killed him, in that form. The question is how. You say there was a foreign presence in your mind, and the dampers would only allow the use of Riddle's magical signature. Therefore, it is only reasonable to assume that that presence in your mind was really the Dark Lord. You were able to use it against him, out of your desperation." Harry gave Snape an incredulous look. "Perhaps it would help if I explained a bit more." Snape sighed and began a discourse on the nature of dark magic, eventually ending with an explanation of horcruxes.

"The only thing that makes sense, Potter," he said, "is that you yourself were a horcrux. You purged yourself of it by using that piece of the Dark Lord's soul against him, and you also killed him in his flesh."

"So then - I didn't lose the war?"

"By whatever powers look down on us with favor, you didn't," Snape drawled. "But that doesn't make your actions any less foolish!"

"Is that why I was never able to block Riddle from my mind? Because he was already in it?"

"That is probable," Snape affirmed. "It is impossible to block someone who is already there." Harry nodded.

"So the war's over? We're finished? We're free?"

"Not quite," Snape said. "Don't forget that the Dark Lord may have had other horcruxes. Until they're all destroyed, he can always return."